whats the worst thing you've done to your partner while climbing?

We were at a belay in a tight squeze chimney and i couldnt help but let one rip, my partner nearly passed out.

I actually showed up to meet them

Monty, several of my partners have done that before, except Seth.

Your partners might just return the favor...

Okay Dudley... sorry but i have to share this one. Imagine pure death wrapped in spoiled bacon rotting in the sun for months converted into gaseous form. That's what he unleashed unto my poor, unsuspecting olfactories at a semi-hanging belay with no warning (save the subtle giggle only a brief moment before hell broke loose). That beast of a death sentence could have knocked buzzards off a sh1twagon. Simply horrid... i'll be sure and post an update when i get him back. ;)

Having your partner shat all around you from above cause they "had to go" before finding and making a belay........falling feces.....

having 'milk-duds' shaken from a pant leg from above....

it's funny what it turns into if its held under pressure long enough.

i spent about 6 hours leading an OW while my wife was belaying in an icy pit in february. it was so cold that she put my down jacket on our dog. it got dark when i hit the anchor and she didn't have a chance to get on it. then, when we were schwacking down the hill in the dark, she fell into a cactus. then, when we got to the car i grabbed a pair of pliers and pulled a hundred cactus needles out of her bum.

also, i climbed the petit with a partner. we simul-climbed the thing, i lead. he was really sick. he puked on the approach and i told him we sure as hell weren't bailing. while we were climbing he had several cases of explosive diarhea. no stopping though, he was crappin' on the run! what a good sport he was.

i went climbing with a buddy of mine one day and he was really hungover but i made him go anyways, he didn't lead anything that day so on our last climb while he was cleaning the lower half of the route i smacked him in the balls with the rope, he was really pissed off but i had him on belay and he coulded do anything about it.

Daryl Allan wrote:Okay Dudley... sorry but i have to share this one. Imagine pure death wrapped in spoiled bacon rotting in the sun for months converted into gaseous form. That's what he unleashed unto my poor, unsuspecting olfactories at a semi-hanging belay with no warning (save the subtle giggle only a brief moment before hell broke loose). That beast of a death sentence could have knocked buzzards off a sh1twagon. Simply horrid... i'll be sure and post an update when i get him back. ;)

dragged him up the approach to castleton while he was hungover. he barfed at the base.

Gave him a golden shower at the top of sons of yesterday.

How did this become a scat thread? Guess the OP steered that way, but that's all so trivial. I did something genuinely bad...something that if I think about, causes shame 28 years later.

MP community forgive me, for I have sinned.

With southern California hard men Rick Lynsky and Pat Brannon, I was on a valley wall that's a big trade route today but sick work back in the day. It was an unseasonable June of 100-plus degrees and our white granite road stretched seven days in the long concave part of the Big Stone's SE face.

We didn't bring enough water. We stoically sweated and sipped, and stretched the quarts to cover the days. It was long, slow, and bad. In the black of night five, feeling a Vegas summer heat from the radiating rock, I fumbled through the haul bag, sipped from a fresh bottle, sipped again, and drank some more.

Next morning, it was distressing to all that one of our handful of remaining bottles was mysteriously half empty. That night, we divied up the final three two-liter bottles. Lying in my borrowed ledge, I sipped, again, again, and chugged. A few minutes later, the bottle was empty. OK, I'm a high school a wrestler. I've gone all day without water in plastics and sauna sessions. I won't tell them I'm out of water. I'll deal with the last day and we'll be off.

But that afternoon, on my last lead a few pitches from the top, I got off route, strung out on a thin seam, took a ripper, and dangled, panting, dry, and spent. "I can't finish. Someone take over."

"Hey, we're wasted too! Let me send up your water bottle and you can rest some and get back on it."

Shit. Nowhere to hide. "It's empty! I drank it all last night!"

"You what?!"

"Yeah!"

Rick became all business. "Can you tension to that little ledge and belay?" "Yes." I did. He jugged and cleaned, eyed me on the ledge and said: "You're baggage." He and Pat finished the last two leads. I jugged in the fading light, pulled over an edge, and tumbled into Todd Gordon, who had hiked up to meet us with gallons of water and six-packs of all description. The water quenched a desperate need but didn't satisfy my emptiness. Not close.

ahhh, golden showers.... i gave my partner 'dirty diana' one on the bastille crack back in '94. she just laughed, can you believe that?

Daryl Allan wrote:Okay Dudley... sorry but i have to share this one. Imagine pure death wrapped in spoiled bacon rotting in the sun for months converted into gaseous form. That's what he unleashed unto my poor, unsuspecting olfactories at a semi-hanging belay with no warning (save the subtle giggle only a brief moment before hell broke loose). That beast of a death sentence could have knocked buzzards off a sh1twagon. Simply horrid... i'll be sure and post an update when i get him back. ;)

thanks for sharing that great story shawn.

slim wrote:ahhh, golden showers.... i gave my partner 'dirty diana' one on the bastille crack back in '94. she just laughed, can you believe that?

its nothing like a tossed salad.

Legs Magillicutty wrote: Is that something like a tossed salad?

hehe. poop.

so, i think a fair question now is - How much penalty slack do you give your leader after they've pissed down route onto you?