TR for the Bighorn Micro Clave and a Trip to Chas's

"Wolfgang" wrote

While it is certainly true that there are a lot of people who never
get TO, let alone off, the beaten path, there are millions of others
who routinely do **** that makes my hair stand on end. Your
observations on the multitudes of the fearful and inept you encounter
frequently enough to codify their behavior says at least as much about
your habits as theirs.


Most certainly true .... and I "think" I recognize the anxiety in others
because I so often experience it in myself.

I'm not sure exactly what you are saying, but, for the record, I am FAR from
a "tough guy, macho dude." Especially the last few years, as my body fails
me, I find fear to be a constant obstacle to be overcome. I often fail to
fish a stretch, for instance, because I'm aware of my weak wading and weaker
knees and simply am scared. Or, I quit climbing, years ago, for the simple
reason I was too damn scared to do it anymore after a bad fall. Or, I don't
drive down the really muddy, nearly flooded out, canal levies on duck clubs
like I used to. The fear of drowning or even simply having a long, hard
walk back to help stops me. I'm a whush, always have been, don't mean to
seem to imply otherwise.

I do believe a whush is in a good position to understand "whushiness,"
however.

I may be wrong, but I think I'm as entitled to my opinions, developed from
my observations, about ( your words not mine ) "the fearful and inept"
...... as you are to your opinions about me, based, I think it fair to say,
on less actual observation. Neither of us really harms anyone with our
ramblings, so why not ramble?

I think there is a good chance we are both more wrong than we wish to think,
and right more than the other wants to admit.

Oh, and Colin Fletcher who, I believe, was the first person to publish a
description of the details of taking a **** in the backcountry. That
undoubtedly led to better overall backcountry sanitation and, thus, far,
far, outstrips the consequence of any of my personal outdoor activities.

Beat out by a good crap, most of us ain't nearly as important as we'd like
to think G

Larry L:
I often fail to fish a stretch, for instance, because I'm aware of my weak
wading and weaker
knees and simply am scared. Or, I quit climbing, years ago, for the
simple
reason I was too damn scared to do it anymore after a bad fall.

These are common factors that I guess go along with aging and the
recognition that durability is almost as much a myth as invincibility.

I've spent lots of time hiking, camping, climging, skiing,fishing, and
hunting alone. Much of it, I admit, kept me out of the house during a bad
first marriage. But the fear of injury when alone was always there. And in
those days, I would rather have died outdoors doing some higher risk
activity than in the house. The contest was never with companions or others
who had been there before me. It was always with myself, pushing to make
one more goal or one

Fear of injury is always present in humans with normal make up. In combat,
I was far less afraid of death than of injury. I've known quite a few
bona-fide combat heroes who have told me that they felt the same way. The
guys who claimed to have not experienced fear were either mentally ill or
never there to begin with.

Here, wading the flats, it has become much easier to limit the depth to
which I wade. I'd rather not be a statistic and I'd be very embarrased to
admit to dropping and reel to recover from stupidly stepping into a rip or
race.

So if the canyon walls are too sheer and the rock too brittle, the water too
deep and/or fast, I take some comfort in the fact that when younger I dared
such things, but even more in the fact that today I no longer feel the need
to push myself to dare them and still enjoy the trip out.


----
Stev Lenon 91B20 '68-'69
Drowning flies to Darkstar
Save a cow, eat a PETA

http://web.tampabay.rr.com/stevglo/i...age92kword.htm

"slenon" wrote

The contest was never with companions or others
who had been there before me. It was always with myself,


That's exactly how I felt about climbing.

I've been very happy with myself when I backed off a move that logic told me
was too physically risky, even though I was afraid of seeming the coward to
"friends". And, I've been very proud of myself for quieting the physical
fear, forcing the trembling to stop, and making a sanely protected but very
difficult and scary
move.

I've been very displeased with Larry when he came down off a climb that was
reasonably safe and within his ability because he gave into physical fear.
And, I've been ****ed at myself for making a stupidly risky move because I
gave into the fear of peer pressure more than logic. I've never felt good
around mirrors after giving into fear, regardless of what type fear.

I never came even close to "bleeding edge" rock climbing, but I did push my
own limits very hard, and I feel good about having that in my past.

But, as I age, and give into fears that I would never have had when younger,
I am finding it somewhat emotionally difficult to deal with .... but it's
what I now am, ..... I can't pretend to be
otherwise.

Larry:
I've been very displeased with Larry when he came down off a climb that
was
reasonably safe and within his ability because he gave into physical fear.
And, I've been ****ed at myself for making a stupidly risky move because I
gave into the fear of peer pressure more than logic. I've never felt
good
around mirrors after giving into fear, regardless of what type fear.

Yes, but you mention falls in your previous post. Like you, I climbed for
myself, not for endorsements or recognition. I was privileged to climb in
some great areas and because of that, doomed to take some serious falls.
Unless one is a rock gymnast, and I was not, that peeling off moment when
gravity claims its own power is guaranteed to make you question your own
sanity. And the impact at the end of the fall is never as easy on your
spine as you hope. Then there is the nagging question of the rope on some
edge and the hope that protection will stay in place.

I could never do the free climbs. I've helped carry off those who did. It
bothered me but not as much as seeing myself lying as they fell. The peer
pressure is tremendous among climbers and we always wonder if we could have
made the crux move that someone else led.

But, as I age, and give into fears that I would never have had when
younger,
I am finding it somewhat emotionally difficult to deal with .... but it's
what I now am, ..... I can't pretend to be otherwise.

It is annoying to look back and find that we were different then. To me
it's become a question of durability. As you say, as we both know, while we
may acknowledge the fears, our bodies are also doing a damned good job of
telling us when we have to quit. It's no longer the path that troubles us
as much as the nasty little realization that there may be an end to the
path.

Having said all that, it would be good to sit and spin climbing and other
yarns with you. I've read much of what you've posted since I arrived and do
believe we'd enjoy fishing and yarning together.

----
Stev Lenon 91B20 '68-'69
Drowning flies to Darkstar
Save a cow, eat a PETA

http://web.tampabay.rr.com/stevglo/i...age92kword.htm

"slenon" wrote

good to sit and spin climbing and other
yarns with you.


I seem to run into lots of "used to climb" fisher guys This summer I
bought some Patagonia flats pants ( really comfy in hot weather and I like
doing biz with them, their eco-policy is top rate ) at Blue Ribbon. True
to my grumpy nature I was bitching about the price and made a comment
something to the effect " I can remember when Yvon Chouinard was a Camp 4
bum blacksmithing pitons, now he's probably a billionaire because of
gullible fly fishermen" Turns out John Jurachek who was selling me the
pants used to climb.

The fall that stoped my climbing was a loose rock deal, I was resting, after
the move of a short climb. I felt funny, looked down, and simply wasn't
attached anymore, my toe holds had just popped out.. After about 15 or so
feet ( it was bolt protected I was in little danger) I instinctively stuck
out my right foot trying to catch a ledge about 2 inches wide. You've been
there and can guess what two inches of ledge did to that foot after 15 or
more free falling feet ...bent it nearly off my leg .... crutches for a
long, long, time, limp to this day. And I never felt comfortable again,
on the rock, "What if this hold popped off, what about that one on the next
move?"

I'm not far from Yosemite ( usually great rock), but the fall was in the
winter at Pinnacles Nat Mon.(known for crappy rock ) I still have a bag
full of biners, stoppers and chocks, pitons ( yep I'm that old ) a pair of
EB's, a pair of PA's .... I keep thinking of leaving them at the base of
that dome by Tenaya Lake with a note "free to good home" when I go to fish
Hot creek and Crowley, but I'd probably get arrested for littering G

And I never felt comfortable again, on the rock, "What if this hold popped
off, what about that one on the next
move?"

Truly a scary tale. I can imagine the anatomical damage. And the tendency
to anticipate that happening again would make it hard to take a risk or set
foot on rock.

My falling stories aren't that bad. Mostly rock rash and assorted scars,
scrapes, and avulsions. The fall that really got to me was on army laid
rope. Several pieces of questionable protection zippered out and I honestly
think I left footprints in the dust at the base of the route before that
damned laid rope snapped tight and pulled me up again.

But I quit mostly because of age, older injuries, and location. I finally
found I wasn't using my gear and sold most of it. Saved three pitons ( I'm
that old too ), an Army oval steel biner, a couple aluminum locking biners
and a rurp that took a hard fall and stayed put. They sit on a shelf in the
front room next to my slide rule and my flint and steel kit from my black
powder days.

The climbing - fly fishing juxtaposition may have to do with an appreciation
for nature. The climbers I learned from were interested in the whole
outdoor package, camping, hunting, fishing, mountaineering. Then I ran into
the rock jocks as they became more apparent. Seeing somebody carry power
tools to bolt routes just sickens me. Yeah, they can outclimb me, likely
even without their tools. And maybe they can outfish me too. But they
don't appreciate the rock, the land, or the fish. Trophy climbers, just
like trophy hunters, fishers, and road sign shooters are from a different
ethos.

You have a great backyard if you live near Yosemite. I was going to
interview at the federal hospital there but I met Gloria and came east
instead. Such is fortune!

----
Stev Lenon 91B20 '68-'69
Drowning flies to Darkstar
Save a cow, eat a PETA

http://web.tampabay.rr.com/stevglo/i...age92kword.htm