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edgelounger
Nov 7, 2002, 8:35 PM
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Registered: Aug 19, 2002
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We are mountaineers with hairy ears who sleep in caves and ditches We wipe our ass with broken glass and laugh because it itches We are mountaineers with long beards who dress in painters britches We stick our dicks in burly cracks we're crazy sons' of bitches
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hangerlessbolt
Nov 7, 2002, 9:35 PM
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Registered: Dec 2, 2001
Posts: 7255
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A Perfect Summer Night When all the work days Blend into a haze And reality is nowhere near That's when I remember In early September The Josh nights are warm and clear And I'm not alone I pick up the phone and issue an eager proposal A partner in need Is a partner indeed "If your leading I'm at your disposal" An evening run Under a setting sun A burger and some fries Gear in the pack Thrown on my back Watch the full moon rise Desert floor Relaxation's door It's here I feel at home Long shadowy trees Cactus at my knees To the base of the climb we roam I start the climb With safety in mind I check out my harness and knot Headlamp lights my partner He know's he's smarter He lets me lead...(a lot!) In the first few moves I focus on my shoes Fancy footwork on thin face I clip the first bolt Pull a bight of rope Thinking how blessed is this place Only the moon and bright stars No people and no cars Two of us on this dark wall I get to the crux My partner wishes me luck With tensed muscles I fight a fall I pull all the moves Thank 5.10 for the shoes I clip into the bolts with my runner I take in the slack Staring down into black Hard to believe we're at Josh in the summer From far below Comes a headlight's dim glow A lonely growing light Hanging far above This place that I love A perfect summer night -Hangerlessbolt & Toobigtoclimb
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wildtrail
Nov 7, 2002, 10:09 PM
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Registered: Jul 6, 2002
Posts: 11063
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DAY DREAMS IN YOSEMITE By Stephen D. Schaefgen His eyes fell upon a place Its magnificent beauty swept away time. Time slowly, slowing in train of thought While the heart remains racing. Eyes open, mind wandering, blissful and tempting The sounds heard and the air aloft In a teasing, tantalizing embrace. This is where He had started and this is where I finish. My mind will carry on forever My heart will never leave this place.
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geoteck
Nov 8, 2002, 12:09 AM
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Registered: Sep 6, 2002
Posts: 145
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Wow. Way too much time on your hands (yet I must now take the time to read these )
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machiavellian
Nov 8, 2002, 12:56 AM
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Registered: Aug 12, 2002
Posts: 509
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Ah, the refreshing feeling of something sharp under one's fingers. The feel of your muscles straining as you force yourself to fly through the air towards the next mono. Suddenly you realize that you are not going to make your hold and will fall. This concerns you not for you know your rope will pull tight, eventually. Now you are swinging 15 feet below your last clip yet you don't care, for part of the joy is climbing back up and trying again. [ This Message was edited by: machiavellian on 2002-11-08 04:46 ]
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machiavellian
Nov 8, 2002, 12:59 AM
Post #6 of 11
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Registered: Aug 12, 2002
Posts: 509
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Climb to reach new heights, fall to see what you missed on the way up. When dancing like a swan, when climbing like a swan on crack.
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mike
Nov 8, 2002, 1:38 AM
Post #7 of 11
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Registered: Aug 20, 2002
Posts: 1461
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Eight Alpine Poems by Doug Robinson (In "Climber's Choice") I If you are more at home In the mountains than anywhere You are a mountaineer No climbing is required Being among the peaks it will rise spontaneously With no other motive Or justification Than itself. To be a mountaineer Is first to love the mountains Then to climb them. Technique Can never replace Devotion. II With all that evolving spread out behind us We dance this frost fall morning away On the sunward sides Of granite boulders III Stone down Boulder running Falling light Slab sailing Wind building Rock freckles dusking Cloud pushed star dying Dark Light Random rain High dark south-wind sailors Morning sleep Rain wake Heather clump back nestle Cool fresh face rain Short burst of sun warm In a week you will be home IV Best of vantage points Those high mountain days V No pencil comes out Poets struck dumb by twilight: Yosemite Point VI Waking these early morning hours With mind abroad on the Sierra night, Dreams of granite glory Keep coming up. Yet they drown each time In return for present beauty. My head is filled and scoured By tumbling creek Or trailing shooting stars to fluorescent death. Against fresh feeling Ego hasn't a chance. A perfect pentagon of stars hangs in Contact Pass. Ego dissolves into darkness Soluble in starlight. VII On the best of days A clean animal Running down streams of white light Through the clear wilderness VIII These high mountain days Emerging from music to dance, Re-merging to rhythm. Not a thought.
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camhead
Nov 8, 2002, 3:10 AM
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Registered: Sep 10, 2001
Posts: 20939
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there once was a climber named Paul who, onsight, would freesolo big walls in a crack was a snake Paul freaked out and yelled "TAKE!" and launched into a thousand foot fall
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wildtrail
Nov 8, 2002, 3:13 AM
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Registered: Jul 6, 2002
Posts: 11063
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Very good, Pual. There once was a guy from Nantuckett...
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kriso9tails
Nov 8, 2002, 11:30 AM
Post #10 of 11
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Registered: Jul 1, 2001
Posts: 7772
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There once was a man from Nantucket. He went for a dyno and stuck it. His friends were all pissed Because they had all missed, So the one who had sent just said "suck it." I'm so deep it hurts.
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kriso9tails
Sep 2, 2008, 9:27 PM
Post #11 of 11
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Registered: Jul 1, 2001
Posts: 7772
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In reviving a really old thread, It might make sense to start new instead, But since I'm not that bright It seems more than alright To wake stupid old posts from the dead. Oh god help; my brain is being eaten alive by limericks. From climbers who've only just started, To those of us dearly departed, Does this sport make much sense? Maybe we're all just dense. Sometimes I think climbing's retarded.
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