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angry
Sep 25, 2005, 6:08 PM
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Registered: Jul 22, 2003
Posts: 8405
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When we speak of trip reports, thoughts of epic climbs, far off places, or possibly sports bras come to mind. This trip report is all of those things and more. It is simply lacking the epic climbs, far off places, or sports bra's.
It all started last week when I got an email from a local rock warrior I'll call House. She has joined the peace corps and is leaving to go to Turkmenistan this week. The email simply said "I'm leaving, lets get drunk" and there was a time and address in Ft. Collins.
The party was friday, and I'd only eaten breakfast that day. I love House's parties, I only see the people who come while at these parties. They are primarily sport or gym climbers and I get really hammered, talk a lot of shit, and don't see them again until the next party. Anyway, I got a good drunk on. I found a few girls to bug and spit Obub lyrics to. It totally wasn't working. Stumbling around barefoot, drinking lots and finding women I didn't know and making up stories about how good of friends we were.
By midnight I was puking on the apple trees. After that I'm told that people were going to asfixiate me with marshmallows but I wasn't that asleep. I certainly don't remeber the headlamps in my face.
Saturday morning and I'm still drunk. I'm seeing double and we're off to Vedauwoo. We stop and eat some McShit, I figure to pay for the previous night, we've got to climb wide and puke for pennance.
The whole drive (thankfully I'm not driving), I'm wrestling my stomach down. We pull into Vedauwoo and James see's Scarpelli sitting by his car. He rolls down the window and screams "I don't see how anything you can get your hands inside can be harder than 5.9!!!" I'm sick, drunk, hungover, and now I'm scared for my life.
We stop to use the restroom at the Nautilus. The parking lot is typically filled with climbers. I roll out of the truck and stumble over to the outhouse and proceed to puke my guts out. James is laughing his ass off at me. This makes me laugh my ass off too, the laughing makes me puke more. So to anyone who used the Nautilus bathroom this weekend, I'm sorry. There are thin walls and everyone nearby got to listen to the sounds of my upchuck. Meanwhile James got butt-ass naked in the parking lot to change clothes.
"Ok, I'm ready, lets go climb WORM DRIVE (11b OW). We drive to where I assumed worm drive was and something looked really familiar. "Oh shit, we're at the Short Wall" I walk up to the wall and see the girl belaying some unknown climber. This is funny because she's the girl I've been sort of seeing for the summer. And she made it known to me that she'd be unable to climb with me on Saturday. Now I see why. Anyway, they are on Jays Solo, an OW sandbag on the same order of magnitude as Generator Crack. I'm not the jealous type, and besides, I don't know the whole story. I couldn't care less at this point, my head is still spinning.
I throw my shoes and look around. I see Shogun, it's supposedly 10c and it looks cool. Big hands and left leaning. I jump on it and fire away, 3/4 of the way up, I'm sweating alcohol and my head is spinning. Worse yet, I can't feel my hands contract. "Damn, I should have brought a rope" Thankfully, you couldn't knock me off a 10c handjam with a firehose. I top out and fall over. Fucking delirium tremens. I need to either sober up or drink more. A while later, James aid climbs Jays Solo and I TR the thing. It looks like my OW training is working. It's fucking easy, I'm actually doubting that it's a sandbag now, but I remember being a 10c climber and only being able to get off the ground.
She and the random guy leave and give us instructions to Worm Drive. After all this I'm finally starting to sober up. I somehow find worm drive but James is gone, no idea, he's dissappeared. Well, by coincidence, she and HIM are there. After they are finished I bum a belay. My plan was to onsight the thing. Stack stack stack, feet at eye level, groan, and blam!! I'm past the crux. I feel sick, plug in a piece and lower off without even attempting to finish the route. Brilliant, send the hardest part of the route and go home. I'm a roped boulderer. Fuck, I'd have sent that shit if I hadn't been drinking.
I get out of there and find James asleep in the truck, we drive away, slowing to moo at some hefty girls walking down the road.
A few boulder problems (Alice, To the Moon) and we leave. Shit, what a weekend. And today I woke up to rain, no naked edge for me. God hates me.
(This post was edited by angry on Jun 1, 2009, 9:46 PM)
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craftedpacket
Sep 25, 2005, 6:47 PM
Post #2 of 5
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Registered: Mar 9, 2004
Posts: 187
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I have been forced to do a lot of things while hung over....but cant imagine trying to climb....especially trad.
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mistajman
Sep 25, 2005, 7:41 PM
Post #3 of 5
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Registered: Apr 15, 2005
Posts: 136
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Cool story! I used to live in Laramie and know exactly how it feels to climb an offwidth extremely hungover!
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