Whiskey Wednesday: Ice climbers
Holy shit it’s been a while yeah? We are lame, you’ve heard it before, we’re sorry, we’ll try harder blah blah blah. You don’t care about our excuses, so I won’t give them to you.
The crew here would like to pay some respect to ice climbers. We went ice climbing. Well Bronco and Limit went ice climbing. I walked around like an idiot with 6 jackets on and my snowboarding pants and sneakers freezing my ass off while a spectacle of mini-epic proportions unfolded before my eyes.
As you all may have guessed, Team P and C has a special aversion to the cold. We like it comfortable. Sticky rock, climbing in t-shirts and belaying in jackets. That’s ideal right there. We like placing gear and clipping bolts. We don’t do the soloing thing too much, and run outs are alright on the right terrain. Anyway. Ice climbing doesn’t seem to have any of this which is ESPECIALLY troublesome for a bunch of bumblikins like us.
Here’s a list of things that happened yesterday:
1. We bumblefucked our way up the snowy hill trying to find a way to get to the top rope anchors but as the newbies we were got scared and couldn’t get to them.
2. A red-bearded fellow started his solo mission up the tiny falls we wanted to climb (which is terrifying to watch by the way…)
3. We spent at least an hour just banging the ice tools into the ice from the ground
4. We spent another hour just screwing, unscrewing and testing ice screws from the ground.
5. During the red-bearded fellows descent we throw our rope up to him and ask if he’ll put it into the anchor for us.
6. Red-bearded fellow takes off his crampons…(what?!)
7. Red-bearded fellow slips at the top and slides down a long rock ramp from the top falls another 10-15 feet, lands on his ass in the only spot not full of jagged icy death rocks with bewildered look on his face.
8. I resolve to never ice climb ever.