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scuffy b
climber
On the dock in the dark
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Very cool story and tribute.
Feel free to give us more.
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philo
Trad climber
boulder, co.
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Topic Author's Reply - Dec 9, 2008 - 11:50am PT
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Hankster said; "That place freaks me out. You just walk to the edge and need to take a dump".
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahah..oops. Damn now I need a handi-wipe.
Yeah Hank if anyone can teach the subtleties of a Black Canyon rim dump it would be me 'cause you know I'm full of it. I have a fitting cartoon on the subject. I'll see if I can dredge it up.
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philo
Trad climber
boulder, co.
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Topic Author's Reply - Dec 10, 2008 - 02:04am PT
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In those days we adhered to the adage that the best solution for pollution is dilution. So figuring that it would be at least another decade before anyone else would follow these adventures we simply used S.A.P airlines. "Sh#t and Pitch" as it was taught to me was the manner of disposal choice in those early years. In theory the "package" would explode on eventual impact and shower the largest area possible. Diffusing it's noxious cargo to the emptiness below. I realize that this was in the days before hoards of like minded adventurers made fecal trundling impractical. But before everyone "GOT P.C." (poop container) a well lobbed sh#t sandwich or a far flung fecal frisbee was a thangabeooty. So after all of these years if any of you ever happened to run across a package remnant addressed from me I would like to formally apologize for any unexploded ordinance there may have been. But as my kid's book say "everyone poops". You should have seen the look of curious horror on their little faces when I answered the inevitable question. "how do Black Canyon climbers poop Daddy"?
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Dec 10, 2008 - 11:31am PT
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Nice toons, Philo!
Have you posted your first climbing cartoon???
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philo
Trad climber
boulder, co.
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Topic Author's Reply - Dec 10, 2008 - 07:19pm PT
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Back in those days, owing to a diet consisting mostly of beans and expired food stuffs, we could easily tell how well each other was feeling.
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Dec 11, 2008 - 12:37am PT
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Was '87 a Blue Plate kind of year for you?
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philo
Trad climber
boulder, co.
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Topic Author's Reply - Dec 11, 2008 - 01:49am PT
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Many Black Canyon adventures and even more mis-adventures happened well before or well after ventures below the rim. Years ago the North Rim campground was the site of more than a few odd experiences and chance encounters for me. Back then I had a red hot but oh so high maintenance girl friend who didn't much care for climbing or, other than me, climbers. Did I mention she had a real nice car? I used to, on occasion, borrow her car. Sometimes with her even knowing about it. Well this was one of those occasions she didn't know about. Jim and I borrowed her car as neither of our klunkers would have survived the rigors of our intended mad dash there and back. Living in Gunnison meant it wasn't too big of a deal to just drive there before dawn and head down early. Not wanting to disturb the slumbering campers we parked in the outer loop turn around and went directly down under. Returning triumphantly topside with just enough time to have the car back before my lady's flight landed I was instantly hurled back into the abyss when I realized I had locked the keys to my sugar bear's car inside. Oh crap, oh crap! Can you say OH CRAP! Pacing frantically around the she wolf's inert Honda burbling about blue balls and black lists I was of no use in this dire circumstance. Jim was his characteristically stoic self quietly surveying the situation, analyzing, planning. As the sun sped towards setting my heart raced towards regretting the rest of my days. It was only when my rising anxiety had me looking for suitable glass smashing rocks that Jim could no longer tolerate the distraction. He was in the process of sending me away when seemingly out of no where up walked two young climbers likely drawn by the animated sounds of a love lorn man acting out the scene of being eaten alive by the dragon lady. Into this amusing scene came these young bucks who asked if either of us knew anything about the Diagonal Will route. Well the route had only been done a small handful of times and as I was the only person ever dumb enough to do it twice it fell to me to give the lads the beta. Good thing too as I had just found a rock with the correct heft. In the time it took me to describe in detail the intricacies of the route, raisins and all, Jim had enacted his plan and solved the problem. He oh so deftly removed the seals of the back passenger seat rear quarter panel window and popped it out. By the time I came scurrying back prepared to be berserk he calmly handed me the keys having already perfectly replaced the window. We got back in the nick of time and my sweet honey bunny was none the wiser.
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philo
Trad climber
boulder, co.
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Topic Author's Reply - Dec 11, 2008 - 01:55am PT
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Steve Grossman asked if 87 was a blue plate year for me. Actually Steve 1987 was the...
Which gave me ample time to doodle.
That year several of us had squirreled away enough coin and free time to partake of an extended North Rim bivy. The plan was to be there for over a month straight (or I should say continuously) and climb everyday. Well the storm king was in a foul mood that Spring and he apparently didn't care much for us either. We did get up a route or two between storms but most of the time we were worried that we would need swim fins and snorkels for the approaches. I had never before seen the Gunnison River so violent and unrelenting. Swollen to beyond mere measure you could on occasion here the crashing of mini van sized boulders being forcibly evicted. It was all overwhelming and extra extra spooky!
While there all manner of interesting folk came by. Hanging out at our Black Canyon advanced base camp helping add to the burgeoning heap of recyclable containers. We had the ranger on the pay roll so there was no grief from the local heat about our squatters camp in a National Monument. I say advanced base camp as everyone knows that the real Black Canyon base camp is Newberry's Store in Cimarron Colorado. And Uncle Jimmy was one of the more regular guests. Eventually the frustration of sodden dissatisfaction led all but five of us to abandon ship so to speak. Besides my self our clan included Dave Henritze, Jim Nigro, Chris Beque and Rich Perch. We were the 'High & Wet".
In the cartoon above you can see Chris in the sleeping bag. He was having a lot of back problems. His car is the Honda something or other. He had his bike with him as he was usually the healthy one. Nigro, who's square back VeeWee is the closest drawn car, was off in the loo as he was having um back problems. I am pretty sure I mentioned somewhere that we ate a lot of beans. Dave, who's remarkable dog Sneffles (rip) can be seen chewing a tree, has the Chevy Luv Slug next to the Nigromobile. I don't remember where Rich parked his vehicle. My rig is the old Toyota wagon in the back. I had done a Polish conversion to it in which I removed all but the driver's seat so I could sleep in it with all my gear. Which came in mighty handy in the Spring of 87. In that ransacked ride I carried a small TV that plugged into the cigarette lighter. There we were in camp lounge chairs, from left to right, me, Rich with the umbrella and Davy all watching cartoons in the light drizzle. Perch had this rainbow paneled umbrella that during the commercials he lazily twirled while whistling mindless jingles. I was regrettably down wind when the burrito blues reared their ugly retro-musicality. This was not an incognito SBD to be passed then passed off. Oh no this was an LAL. Loud and lethal. This prideful effart was likely heard over the roar of the river by tourists on the other rim. Rich, with out missing a beat or twirl quickly lowers his spinning shield of protection between us and keeps whistling Dixie. Look away, look away.
OK, OK so I know what your probably thinking about now. Five vehicles! What couldn't we have car pooled?
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Tez
Mountain climber
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Dec 11, 2008 - 10:08am PT
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Philo - thanks for posting these. They are great and it really made my day.
-Todd
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philo
Trad climber
boulder, co.
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Topic Author's Reply - Dec 14, 2008 - 01:03am PT
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When Jim Nigro and I topped out on our one day free ascent of the Diagonal Will route we were haggard and stretched paper thin. As usual the dehydration felt like breathing sand. Skin having been exposed to the blaring sun that day was now pink and somewhat crispy. Having done the approach in the rock shoes that were still on our feet we were well past feeling them. Situation normal all systems go.
Even though I had topped out here once before I quickly became disoriented. We stumbled haphazardly midst the pinon and juniper for what seemed like hours. Finally well past dark with many a false start behind us and on the verge of utter exhaustion we tripped upon the trail. AAAHH the trail. Soon the road. That sweet rutted two track with the wonderful dips where cool air pools up like oasis. I always slowed and lingered in those pockets of refreshingly chilled O2. Now we know we can hobble down this stretch with closed eyes. We are home free. We'll be back in the camp we left this very morning in no time. We know exactly what to expect at every turn. Everything.
Everything that is except a table cloth. "What the Phuck is that a table cloth?" That was Jim yelling. We finally found our way back to camp sometime after midnight and now Jim was beginning to wake sleepers up with his verbalized consternation. There it was, a table cloth. A table cloth in our campsite on our camp site table. A red and white checked italian restaurant style table cloth on our table! With neatly arrayed condiments. ???? Jim and I never used a table cloth. We were content to eat tuna with pitons. We were content in the dirt. By now both Jim and I were apoplectic that some touron-osaur had copped our site in our absence. We proclaimed our displeasure loudly. "Don't they know we are heros?" "We just went down and climbed one of the all time nasties (and though we are spent beyond reserves and a stiff breeze may knock us over) will take on any of you slackers!" By now little lights start popping up all around as we throw our hissy fit. We hear laughing from several directions and rustling from our absconded camp site. Thats when I notice It. If you thought Jim seeing the table cloth was bad you should have seen me when I laid eyes on the freaking canvas circus tent some @#%*%@ erected all over my site! What was the world coming to! I was ready to chew the head off the first jerk wad I saw. Oh pity them! When to my fatigue baffled surprise out of the tent pops none other than my sister, bathrobe slippers and all. She had planned to and succeeded at surprising me. I mean really a Coleman circus tent and a checked table cloth were nearly more than we could handle. If not for the left overs, beer and homemade apple pie she served us things might have gone badly.
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ydpl8s
Trad climber
Santa Monica, California
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Dec 15, 2008 - 12:09pm PT
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Philo,
I was just going through some old slides and found a couple of great shots of Mr. Nigro from 1980, looking his debonaire self, with a female college chum that I tried to set him up with. Jim always said to me that "girls are too much trouble, they take too much time away from your climbing"
I'll post them up when I find time to get the slides scanned (after Xmas). Last I heard of him he was an Exum Guide up in the Grand Mammaries of Wyoming. Have you kept in touch or heard anything of him?
Moss
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philo
Trad climber
boulder, co.
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Topic Author's Reply - Dec 15, 2008 - 12:50pm PT
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Daily Moss, daily. He is here in The People's Republic of Boulder. I have had him on the payroll of my company several times. Though why I question as he still isn't worth a Kopek. I look forward to the pics. Have a fantastic Holidaze. philo
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Tarbuster
climber
right here, right now
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Dec 15, 2008 - 02:57pm PT
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"That sweet rutted two track with the wonderful dips where cool air pools up like oasis."
I was just merrily reading along & SNAP!
... that sentence pulled me out of my head, lit up my senses and transported me straight into the outdoors, right to the rim of the canyon.
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eeyonkee
Trad climber
Golden, CO
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Dec 16, 2008 - 09:40am PT
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I continue to do between one and three Black Canyon climbs a year. It's what I revolve my climbing season around (one or two in the Spring season and one in the Fall is about right). Seems like every one of them would classify as an adventure. Sheesh, just hanging out with my French climbing partner Laurent all day is an "adventure". Too bad for you, I don't have the writing skills of Philo.
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ydpl8s
Trad climber
Santa Monica, California
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Dec 16, 2008 - 10:42am PT
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Philo,
"isn't worth a Kopek" haha...great. Yeah, if it isn't about climbing, his head isn't into it. Please say hi to him for me next time you talk to him, even now I can see that big sh*& eatin grin that might rival Gilbey's.
Moss
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philo
Trad climber
boulder, co.
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Topic Author's Reply - Dec 16, 2008 - 09:39pm PT
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Tarbuster, that is fantastic particularly since you didn't have to pay extra for luggage.
Eeyonkee, come on post something more up. Give it a shot man what have you got to lose?
These stories have been fun for me to share.
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eeyonkee
Trad climber
Golden, CO
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Dec 17, 2008 - 09:00am PT
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Ok Philo, here it goes.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times ...er, how about
Call me Ishmael.
No, that doesn't work either. Let's go with
It was a dark and stormy night.
Hmmm, if I could just come up with that killer opening line, the rest would practically write itself, I'm thinkin.
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philo
Trad climber
boulder, co.
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Topic Author's Reply - Dec 17, 2008 - 09:34am PT
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Thanx MisterE
Eeyonkee how about "We were all sitting around the group W bench..."
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SteveW
Trad climber
The state of confusion
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Dec 17, 2008 - 09:53am PT
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Hey Philo--I didn't know you were a Pollock too!
(my mother's maiden name was Gruhowski). . .
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