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unabonger
Apr 25, 2006, 11:51 AM
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Registered: Aug 8, 2003
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I originally posted this some years ago on rec.climbing in response to a thread requesting stories about food and climbing. Let me know what you think.
Code Brown
Years ago one Friday night: An anonymous climber consumed several beers, then a giant burrito, and finally more beers. He swayed and stumbled home. Saturday morning, his alarm pierces the early morning darkness. Time to go climbing in the Rockies. He suppresses waves of nausea and rushes about, getting ready to leave with Schuyler, whose impatience is obvious. They brew a giant thermos of strong coffee for the drive up. He chokes down a stubbornly large super fiber muffin. In the bleary fog left from the previous evening’s festivities, the climber neglects his morning constitutional. No matter. And now, cup after cup of coffee serves to revive the climber, and by the time they've finished the drive and shuffled along the approach, he can appreciate the sublime surroundings, and is amused by the antics of the mountain goats and their young, jumping crazily from ledge to ledge with hundreds of feet of exposure.
The team executes four neat rappels down the granite cliffs. Now they are committed to climbing back up four pitches as the easiest way back to the car. The route is unfamiliar, but should be well within the pair's limits. Schuyler takes the first lead. With Schuyler 70 feet up, the belayer looks up, and WHOOOAA….Something is falling from Schuyler, as it comes close, he reaches out, and……BAM, he catches…THE CAR KEYS! A good luck omen, definitely, he thought, for if he hadn't caught them, they would have been irretrievably lost in the talus far below, protected from the current position by a hundred feet of loose, 5th class rock and talus. Schuyler, absorbed in his lead, appears not to have noticed, and our bemused hero tucks the keys safely into a zippered pocket.
With a contented sigh, he lets loose a satisfying trumpet of gas. The last vapors of the previous night’s mistakes escape and have give way to an alert and happy concentration.
The climber's amusement continues as he starts the first pitch, moving smoothly and marveling at the crisp mountain granite, soon he arrives at the tiny belay ledge. But…what was this? Urgph, his stomach rumbled, and his amusement turned to slight discomfort. The team started swapping and organizing gear. But something was wrong with our anonymous climber. More gurgles and cramps arrived. And gas. Too much gas.
The climber's discomfort turned to dismay, then pain as the first bad cramps hit. Groaning, he realizes the implications of his predicament: Pounds of foodstuff, probably poorly digested, still resided within him. Bloated by beer, topped off with a burrito as big as his head, lubricated by bran, accelerated by coffee. He felt like an overfilled sausage skin, with someone squeezing the middle. His harness will not allow for removal and proper relief, in any case, there's no proper place to release...
Something needed to give. Probably very soon. In a tight voice, he hands the lead to Schuyler again. "I'm feeling a bit queasy, yes, you should do this lead also...sorry dude."
The minutes ticked by, the cramps grew worse. Now, with Schuyler halfway up the pitch, the pain of holding back became greater than the shame of letting loose. With a groan, a teardrop, and clenched teeth, he opened the valve and let it go. And go it did. It kept going and going, filling his pants with a loose and smelly stew. At home this would've been a multi flush monster. Here, the squishy waste spooged down his legs, filled his underwear, squashed by his leg loops, and settled near his ankles, trapped only by the worn and failing elastic cuffs. Still the smelly mud was flowing, and like a chocolate icing out of a tube, it started dropping from his pants legs, brown gooplets sailing to the rocks below.
His vision narrowed to a dark tunnel, he gritted his teeth and clamped his hand on the belay rope and groaned in agony. After an eternity, and a few last spasms of the gut, the gusher stopped, leaving a disgusting and foul smelling mess smeared in his crotch, along the inside of his pants, and a goodly collection still trapped by the leg loops of his harness, turning his underwear into a defective sort of overfull diaper. The whole mess was seeping through his layers, staining his harness and chalkbag.
Schuyler, now arrived safely at the belay a hundred feet up, had no clue what had happened. The climb must go on, so our stinky hero worked his way up, and with a few meters to go before reaching Schuyler, started explaining. A frown, a sigh, and a strong motivation to finish quickly passed over Schuyler. Too smelly to share the intimate belay, the climber stayed below the stance, tied in out of arms reach, but within the nose's, from Schuyler.
Of course leading was now out of the question for the muddied climber—any movement might have dislodged brown splatter from his ankle openings upon the hapless belayer. Content to slump against the wall, he belayed Schuyler without incident, two more pitches to the top. Blessed was the feeling when he reached the backpacks, and despite the now cold temperatures, he stripped naked, and attempted a cleanup operation using a stick and a liter of water (thirst was strong, but disgust stronger). With only small success, he now faced a walk of several miles back to the car, on a popular tourist trail. His sole clothing was a cheap blue plastic tarp, originally used for a convenient ground cover when gearing up or having lunch. Now it was a smelly and ill-fitting skirt.
They reached the parking lot, and Schuyler reached for his keys. Our hero remembers them, tucked in his fanny pack. He uses them as leverage to bargain his way out of having to ride in the bed of the truck for the cold ride home. “If I find them, can I ride in the front?” “Goddamn dude. I guess so.”
Neither of them ever again left the house with such impatience.
Dedicated to the late Schuyler Crane. I miss you, man.
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booger
Apr 25, 2006, 1:24 PM
Post #2 of 12
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Registered: May 23, 2003
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:lol: :lol: :lol:
Fan-tas-tic!
:lol: :lol: :lol:
And always heartening to know... somebody has done it worse!
(I had my own 'code yellow' last spring, but climbing with a fever, not a hangover).
Any-who...
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heiko
Apr 25, 2006, 1:50 PM
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Registered: Mar 3, 2005
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:lol: :lol: Trophy!
What can I say... show me a serious multi-pitch climber who hasn't at least been very very close to his or her own 'Code {insertcolorhere}'.
Personally, I'm still looking for a pair of light 3-season climbing pants with a nice comfy drop-seat :lol: :lol: :lol:
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majesticmoose
Apr 25, 2006, 2:00 PM
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Registered: Feb 22, 2006
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:lol: :lol: :lol:
I almost soiled myself reading that. Trophy for you.
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alwaysgoing
Apr 25, 2006, 2:12 PM
Post #5 of 12
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Registered: Sep 22, 2005
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:lol: Great funny story to start out the day!!!!
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mr8615
Apr 25, 2006, 2:18 PM
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Registered: Mar 4, 2004
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Wow, if you can't laugh at yourself, err... some anonymous climber... well, you know the saying. Well written, I'm impressed with your tact while sharing such a possibly gross story. Nice job.
Mark
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tradmanclimbs
Apr 25, 2006, 2:21 PM
Post #7 of 12
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Registered: Apr 24, 2003
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learning how to hang it over the edge is crucial :shock:
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felixthekraut
Apr 25, 2006, 3:21 PM
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Registered: Feb 15, 2006
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Very enjoyable story, thanks for sharing!
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climbrox391
Apr 25, 2006, 4:03 PM
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Registered: Aug 17, 2005
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This is one of the best things I've read on this site! Truly hillarious. Almost had a code vomit (too many colors to list) on my belayer from a hangover one tme, I think most can relate to this mishap in some fashion.
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boss
Apr 25, 2006, 4:12 PM
Post #10 of 12
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Registered: Sep 29, 2002
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I nearly sharted while reading that :lol:
Boss
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unabonger
Apr 26, 2006, 10:31 PM
Post #11 of 12
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Registered: Aug 8, 2003
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In reply to: I'm impressed with your tact while sharing such a possibly gross story Mark
Haha! I always try to follow the rules of ettiquette when discussing the scatalogical.
Like the man said to the junkie in Trainspotting "Sometimes a man just has to cut loose". Then the man got splattered with feces.
UnaNonymous
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wjca
Apr 26, 2006, 10:40 PM
Post #12 of 12
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Registered: Jan 27, 2005
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In reply to: His harness will not allow for removal and proper relief, in any case, there's no proper place to release...
I bet he doesn't wear a harness without droppable leg loops anymore.
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