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edgelounger
Nov 7, 2002, 8:35 PM
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Registered: Aug 19, 2002
Posts: 109
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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
Post #8 of 11
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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
Post #9 of 11
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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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