Discussion Topic |
|
This thread has been locked |
survival
Big Wall climber
A Token of My Extreme
|
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Apr 15, 2009 - 09:25am PT
|
dee ee and Brian both come to the party....whoa.
WE GOT ALL THREE FIRST ASCENTIONISTS ON THIS THREAD PEOPLE!!!!
See what a curious old school dog out in NM can do with a little probing???
Todd, thanks again for bringing your photos and your insight to the story.
Brian, Can you scan and post the story you wrote for us?
I am willing to try it with your permission, but I've not scanned big text pages before.....
Thanks a million guys.
|
|
drljefe
climber
Old Pueblo, AZ
|
|
|
Apr 15, 2009 - 09:40am PT
|
Thank you. Incredible.
Todd, any photos of the cave/room/bowells?
That sounds really cool.
The beauty of ST right here.
|
|
Todd Gordon
Trad climber
Joshua Tree, Cal
|
|
|
Apr 15, 2009 - 09:51am PT
|
All three FA members on the post;...it's like a phone conference.....It was a strong team of youngsters;.....We can get together today and talk about gray hair, liver spots, geritol, our children's challenges, and our home morgages.....
Dee Eee styling at Momument Valley, Ariz.....
Dr. Povolny and Steve Prakken Many Farms , Ariz.
|
|
survival
Big Wall climber
A Token of My Extreme
|
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Apr 15, 2009 - 11:17am PT
|
"All three FA members on the post;...it's like a phone conference.....It was a strong team of youngsters;.....We can get together today and talk about gray hair, liver spots, geritol, our children's challenges, and our home morgages....."
Indeed Todd, indeed.
When I get together with the old gang, it is very much like that. We always have a gas reviewing some stuff from BITD, but there's a lot going on in the present too. Have to cover all those bases as well, gray hair, less forearm/more ass, kids, ex-wives, aches and pains, bills, etc.
Luckily, we all like to look forward as much as back, so there's always a good dose of planning the next adventure too!!
I hope Brian and Dave are going to return...
|
|
dee ee
Mountain climber
citizen of planet Earth
|
|
|
Apr 15, 2009 - 01:45pm PT
|
When I arrived at Todd's Hogan with my dog Washoe Todd warned me about "Mr. X." X was a local dog, fierce, brazen and a known puppy eater (that's what survival means to a dog on the res, after all they don't get any dogfood). He dominated the local canine population by rule of terror. I didn't know what to expect but I wanted Washoe to steer clear of the monster.
The morning after my arrival (seen in above snowy photo) here comes the beast to check out Washoe. He is mid sized (same as Washoe), a dirty yellow color, scruffy, mangy, ribs showing, he looks pretty badass. He comes over like he owns the place because, well, he does. They instantly go at it, barking, growling, snow flying, a 30 second tornado of dog fur. Washoe kicks his ass! Mr. X is forced to bow down before the city boy. After that they got along pretty well!
|
|
survival
Big Wall climber
A Token of My Extreme
|
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Apr 15, 2009 - 05:52pm PT
|
Ha!!
All hail Washoe the bad*ss!!
It's the little historical fillers that never make the big book.
|
|
guido
Trad climber
Santa Cruz
|
|
|
Apr 15, 2009 - 07:22pm PT
|
Wow! great story, thanks for the historical enlightenment.
|
|
Olihphant
climber
Somewhere over the rainbow
|
|
|
Apr 17, 2009 - 11:06am PT
|
That was a joyful journey. A prideful accomplishment! Awesome pictures. Thank you for posting this up Survival!
|
|
Crimpergirl
Sport climber
Boulder, Colorado!
|
|
|
Apr 17, 2009 - 11:23am PT
|
Wow. I wanted to long to click on this thread! Very cool stuff!
|
|
Olihphant
climber
Somewhere over the rainbow
|
|
|
Apr 17, 2009 - 11:47am PT
|
It is really wonderful when the stories (histories and herstories) and pictures get shared like this. It must be a lot of effort but keep it up.
|
|
survival
Big Wall climber
A Token of My Extreme
|
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Apr 17, 2009 - 12:47pm PT
|
I'm so glad you all are enjoying this. Me too!!
I was stoked to see an older story about a desert cliff, and then the first name I saw that I recognized was Todd's. Plus the coolest name!
That's all it took to get me started. And to get all three of those guys to pitch in, is all gravy.
|
|
Zander
Trad climber
Berkeley
|
|
|
Apr 17, 2009 - 01:00pm PT
|
Thanks for his thread all
Zander
|
|
TKingsbury
Trad climber
MT
|
|
|
Apr 17, 2009 - 01:09pm PT
|
AMAZING TR! Wow!
really interesting elements for sure
Any pics of the worm hole stuff or the round room? sounds really crazy!
This is what makes this site great!
Cheers!
|
|
MisterE
Trad climber
One Step Beyond!
|
|
|
Apr 17, 2009 - 02:13pm PT
|
Great story, Todd.
|
|
SteveW
Trad climber
The state of confusion
|
|
|
Apr 17, 2009 - 05:15pm PT
|
Awesome, Todd!
Woohoo! You guys rock!!!!
|
|
Mungeclimber
Trad climber
sorry, just posting out loud.
|
|
|
Apr 17, 2009 - 06:11pm PT
|
I'm just gonna say that I wish I were so fortunate.
double radness, with a chimney bump...
|
|
survival
Big Wall climber
A Token of My Extreme
|
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Apr 17, 2009 - 07:57pm PT
|
I tried to scan the article, but somehow my lackatechno scanner storage photobucket interface got all tangled up in my bummafukkacord......AARRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!
I finally gave up in trembling frustration.
I was mad. Luckily this here 'lectric picture radio is still in one piece.
|
|
noshoesnoshirt
climber
dangling off a wind turbine in a town near you
|
|
|
Apr 17, 2009 - 08:24pm PT
|
Holy crap Todd, you rock.
|
|
Todd Gordon
Trad climber
Joshua Tree, Cal
|
|
|
Apr 17, 2009 - 10:07pm PT
|
Brain don't care;.someone should scan the Ascent article;....I would but I'm too stupid......he's probably out lookin' at the senior's menu at Dennys anyways;.........but should we write him off now.........not just yet.......He's in his 50's, but when he takes off his shirt, he's got he abs of a 16 year old......
Brian in his heyday;.......climbing rocks and drilling teeth...
|
|
Todd Gordon
Trad climber
Joshua Tree, Cal
|
|
|
Apr 18, 2009 - 12:12am PT
|
Here was another fun day out with Brian
The Whale
Ancient legend has it that young Navajo bucks used to have contests to see if anyone was studly enough to shoot an arrow over the top of the huge sandstone formation near Rock Point, Arizona called "The Whale". The name "The Whale" refers to two formations; the tallest and the bulkiest being the head of the whale, and the short distance away the tall sharp pointed spire forms the whale's tail.
We were too intimidated to climb the whale a snout or front face, so we decided on a route up the sloping backside of the head. The excitement of the first ascent of such a major formation coupled with the fact that it was my 28th birthday had me super-psyched for the adventure.
Dirt tracks led directly to the base of our proposed route, with a Joshua Tree belay-off-the-bumper approach. Standard free/aid first pitch up the ?Cutler? layer lumps led to a hanging belay at the end of the first pitch; belay from one pin and a bolt.
Brian gets pitch two and I caution him to carefully avoid a refrigerator-sized block precariously balanced directly above me, as he cranks up a cool 5.10 hand crack in a corner. Hanging belays leave one feeling so vulnerable to failing rock; can't really move out of the way to dodge anything coming down.
Upon following, I really don't need to be so careful of loose rock, for there is no one below to worry about. When about even with the massive loose block, I palm the top of it with my right hand for balance as I jam with the left. As soon as I touch the block, it rocks off its dirt pedestal like a huge fallen statue. Before I could even think, the stone has rolled over my foot on it's way to earth, and my whole leg instantly goes numb and into temporary shock.
The big-ass boulder exploded into a million pieces, sending dust and rock in all directions flying like an explosion. The burnt smell of brimstone fills the air, and I scream for tension as a wave of shock-induced nausea hits me like a freight train.
I refuse to look down at my foot, for I'm afraid there will be no foot left to even look at. I'm convinced there's only a stub left and the mental image of this sends my mind catapulting into freak-out. Not only is my foot probably 200 feet below in the talus, but I also heard the trundled boulders landing on my car, which is parked at the base; this is a nightmare!
Calming my nausea and gritting my teeth, I convince myself to pretend to be momentarily brave and glance down at my foot. Hey, what do ya know; it's still there! I limp up the pitch on full high-E-string tension and we decide to finish the climb with Brian leading the rest of the pitches.
The buttress we were climbing has narrowed to a 6 foot wide fin consisting of steps both vertical, then horizontal, with not much for protection. Brian surmounts the first step from a shoulder stand, then walks horizontally to the next vertical step. He gets up more steps via free or aid and is soon wedged in a giant gully near the top. Following the fin pitch, I bat-man up each vertical section, keeping the rope centered on the ridge. If the rope were to pop off the ridge to either side, I'd pendulum from here to Forest Lawn.
The summit was deluxe; the view and vibes worth a million dollars. The light now quickly fading, we start our complicated descent after only a brief moment on top. Rappelling down was exciting right off the bat, considering our first rap anchor was a single piton. Brian did the second rappel, which left him at the end of the rope, hanging in space, no ledges in sight. After much wiggling and thrashing, he was able to touch his feet to the wall, and get a huge pendulum going, which took him around a corner to, thankfully, a belay ledge. By now it's well after sunset, and we take out two rock drills and simultaneously drill anchors for our last rappel. Looking down, we can see a few silhouettes of lean human figures milling about; black forms moving in the night like coyotes. Finally touching down to the beautiful earth, we rejoice in our lives and our survival, and exchange words with a few Navajos who had been watching us for many many hours. Seems they came over to investigate after they heard the huge rock fall.
By now, I can't walk at all, and Brian carries me to my car, or what's left of my car. In the dark and in the evening cold, I see a football-size rock has gone through my side window, and landed on the front seat of the car, directly on top of my walkman cassette. The passenger door is peeled over like a sardine can, the front windshield shattered, and another unidentified projectile seems to have smashed the front fender into the wheel.
After I muscle the smashed fender off the wheel, we drive to the Rock Point Trading Post to get much needed and deserved drinks. Stumbling and limping in, we pay the cashier for the drinks just as a fight breaks out between two drunken Indians who have just stepped into the trading post. We don't give a sh#t about any fight, and as we zombie back to our cars, we look back to see one of the Indians spitting teeth into a trashcan outside. It looked like he was spitting popcorn out of his rubber mouth. I sure know how to have a good time on my birthday.
(Taken off of joshuatreeclimb.com)
|
|
|
SuperTopo on the Web
|
Let us know!