Indian Creek is Cool, but...

"SO YOU GET TO THIS GNARLY UNDERCLING STANCE, AND LIKE, SPREAD OUT SUUUPER WIDE, AND STICK THIS KINDA SLOPEY GASTON THING WITH YOUR RIGHT, AND REALLY PERCH ON YOUR LEFT FOOT LIKE THIS, AND SLOWLY MOVE YOUR HIPS OVER WHILE YOU STAND UP AND INTO THIS DESPERATE FINGER LOCK WITH YOUR LEFT. DUDE IT'S SO AWESOME. OH MAN, YOU GOTTA TRY IT.."

A couple weeks ago I scrambled to the top of a 30' crag, preparing to drop a TR on a hard route and hang some draws on it. I could not see my partner at the base, but the acoustics were good. In an "indoor" voice I established vocal contact with him and told him I was dropping the rope. He misjudged the angle of the route and where he was standing, and he let himself get clobbered by 50+m of rope--a direct hit.

A minute later I told him more junk was coming, and gently suggested he get his dumb ass out of the way. I wadded up my puffy in the rope bag and tossed it down. It hit "flat" on a flat rock surface, the equivalent of a belly flop, and made a surprisingly loud noise. A young female climber on a nearby 5.9 was spooked by the noise--to her, it sounded like it might be a body. Her bro partner loudly explained to her that I had already dropped a rope on my partner without warning, so who knows WTF is going on over there. I'm sure she was reassured by the expert explanation.

Ryan Watts wrote: Weak tendons maybe but if you wanna climb 5.8 in the mountains your stabilizer muscles better be JACKED

Clifton Santiago wrote:Jingoism is alive and well. All y'all that live in the intermountain West and moved there to pursue a more open, liberated and semi-alternative lifestyle peppered with danger sports and all the associated commercial accoutrements to reinforce your identification with, or facsimilification of, a Patagonia catalogue spread, thou be best served not throwing stones. There is a special kind of narcissism that pervades these types of threads- the idea that my pursuits or interests are somehow unique, and being unique, uniquely mine to define and moralize. The joke is you are the late-comer, the guy/gal trying to close the door behind you. The talent, foresight, spirit, and commitment required to even make your adopted thing a thing has already moved on. You are the johnny-come-lately sucking on the shriveled teat of a leftover adventure, yet can't stop yammering about your idealistic first encounter with canned fun, and how it's only gotten watered down in the six months since you got here. There are 27 climbers FROM Boulder. There are 12 climbers FROM SLC. The rest are lucky people whose circumstance and/or inclination led them to realize participation in an intoxicating sport inspired them to identify with the surroundings of said intoxication, and idealize and tribalize it.

5.samadhi wrote: Is that the 11 thousand foot gnar youre talking about or some weak shit?