What was your most recent trip to the ER for?
Batten
Coworker added LSD to my Coffee. 1990
If I had known what it was at the time
it probally would have been enjoyable.
I thought I was having a stroke.
In retrospect it was quite a practical joke.
Batten
N42461
>Coworker added LSD to my Coffee. 1990
Explains volumes, that.
Most recent ER trip for me personally? Woodworking accident. No, not a table
saw. Chisle. A sharp sharp chisle. Took out most of the nerves to the left
index finger. You could see stuff moving around inside the second knuckle.
Blood everywhere.
nathan (and it was the second time I cut that finger..with a chisle...duh)
sweet
Tyto
Steve E.
"Batten" <jnba...@yahoo.com> wrote in message
news:9up92q$1s1md$2...@hades.csu.net...
I took a whipper on Yoda up at Rumney back in October. My leg nailed a nasty
edge as I swung back into the rock, ending my day about an hour early. I was
able to walk down the cliff so I figured I was okay. When I woke up the next
day I could barely stand so I went to get it x-rayed. $750 to have someone
look at it for 7 seconds and say "Well it isn't broken but we'll x-ray it
for you." The crux was getting insurance to cover it.
Steve
P.S.- Henry Barber was there and watched me fall! He offered to, and did,
set up a top rope for my partner afterwards. He was entertaining two
visitors from Australia who wanted to see Rumney.
themadco
www.fconnect.net/handyman/index.htm
"Batten" <jnba...@yahoo.com> wrote in message
news:9up92q$1s1md$2...@hades.csu.net...
>
>
>
Jesus
Thats a surprise. Henry usually just leaves his partners to die.
Batten
Mark D. Cato
--On Friday, December 7, 2001 2:21 AM +0000 Batten <jnba...@yahoo.com>
wrote:
>
> Coworker added LSD to my Coffee. 1990
>
> Batten
>
Swinging fall off of a top-roped climb. It was really overhung, and my
belayer lowered me into the rock-strewn path before I lost any momentum.
Stupid me, it was the second time I came off it that day, and he did the
same thing the first time. I kept lifting my legs the first time. I
landed on my side and got a little roughed up. We discussed it, and I
said, "Don't do that again!"
Second time, I came off a bit higher up. He starts lowering me! "Stop.
Hold me! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?" I tried to skip from rock to rock, but
eventually my foot got jammed up, and the rest of me kept going. By that
evening the swelling and pain was pretty bad; I thought I should go to the
ER. They told me it was really interested sprain. The doctor wondered how
I did it, what part of my foot jammed up and twisted first. I told them I
had some trouble recalling. "I was looking for the next rock I was going
to jump on, and moving pretty damn quick." I got a pretty odd look, not to
mention a spiffy brace and a $450 bill. Medical coverage would have
helped. That's how I found out the hospital takes credit cards.
mark
_____________________
Mark Cato
mdc...@andrew.cmu.edu
Geoff Jennings
Fell @ mile 22. Went in on a badly sprained ankle. Hurt like Hell.
Thought it might be broken.
Much less fun than LSD in the coffee.
Geoff
--
________________________
A man sits with a pretty girl for an hour, it seems like a minute. He sits
on a hot stove for a minute, it's longer than any hour. That is relativity.
Albert Einstein
"Mark D. Cato" <mdc...@andrew.cmu.edu> wrote in message
news:650638.3216713226@cfa-300.cfa.cmu.edu...
themadco
been with your life. I hope the next discussion you had over his belay
tactics were through a number 11 hex.
Ron
"Mark D. Cato" <mdc...@andrew.cmu.edu> wrote in message
news:650638.3216713226@cfa-300.cfa.cmu.edu...
>
Bob Cable
MarkW
"themadco" <ma...@themadco.com> wrote in message
news:9ur0b6$kuf$1...@news.chatlink.com...
> Cheap price to pay to find out your partner does not love you. It could of
> been with your life. I hope the next discussion you had over his belay
> tactics were through a number 11 hex.
Lol! Or perhaps better with a #6 tech friend swinging from a full length
runner at high RPM?
MarkW
Mark D. Cato
--On Friday, December 7, 2001 10:15 AM -0800 themadco <ma...@themadco.com>
wrote:
> Cheap price to pay to find out your partner does not love you. It could of
> been with your life. I hope the next discussion you had over his belay
> tactics were through a number 11 hex.
> Ron
You're right, Ron, I got off easy. I was climbing again in under a month
with no lasting damage. I did consider smacking the hell out of him. I
started trad leading recently, but I should have hobbled off and bought a
beatin' hex just on principle! He knew he messed up big-time, and he's
become a more attentive and responsive belayer. Now that I think about it,
I don't think he's ever belayed me when I've been leading (aside from the
rare gym route). Good job, subconscience!
On a related note, I think I'm occasionally too forgiving of partners.
I've met quite a few folk who I just wouldn't climb with, based on their
behavior, their tr set-ups, etc. But I've only told one person I used to
climb with that he was too dangerous. He's visited the ER at least once a
year since I've known him, and put a spare harness on his then-girlfriend
with quite a few errors. (She's still alive.) Still, the longer I've been
climbing, the more selective I get.
mark
> "Mark D. Cato" <mdc...@andrew.cmu.edu> wrote in message
> news:650638.3216713226@cfa-300.cfa.cmu.edu...
>
>> Swinging fall off of a top-roped climb. It was really overhung, and my
>> belayer lowered me into the rock-strewn path before I lost any momentum.
>> Stupid me, it was the second time I came off it that day, and he did the
>> same thing the first time. I kept lifting my legs the first time. I
>> landed on my side and got a little roughed up. We discussed it, and I
>> said, "Don't do that again!"
>>
>> Second time, I came off a bit higher up. He starts lowering me! "Stop.
>> Hold me! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?" I tried to skip from rock to rock, but
>> eventually my foot got jammed up, and the rest of me kept going. By that
>> evening the swelling and pain was pretty bad; I thought I should go to
>> the ER. They told me it was really interested sprain. The doctor
>> wondered how I did it, what part of my foot jammed up and twisted first.
>> I told them I had some trouble recalling. "I was looking for the next
>> rock I was going to jump on, and moving pretty damn quick." I got a
>> pretty odd look, not to mention a spiffy brace and a $450 bill. Medical
>> coverage would have helped. That's how I found out the hospital takes
>> credit cards.
>>
>> mark
_____________________
Mark D. Cato
School of Art
mdc...@andrew.cmu.edu
412/268-2409
Dave
It was around 6 pm if I recall correctly. I ended up only getting down
because of my four climbing partners who were awesome. I ended up in the
Yosemite Medical Clinic around 1:30 am. In the end I had ripped some
ligaments in my ankle and ended up flying home early from a road trip. The
medical bills were extremely expensive (yah insurance (they also covered my
flight)) and was on the couch/at physio for the next month.
Dave
--
"Batten" <jnba...@yahoo.com> wrote in message
news:9up92q$1s1md$2...@hades.csu.net...
>
>
>
guest
sprouty
says...
> Thats a surprise. Henry usually just leaves his partners to die.
>
sprouty
Steven Cherry
>> Thats a surprise. Henry usually just leaves his partners to die.
>>
>Maybe he's mellowed in his twilight years.
Maybe Batthead is just as asshole.
-steven-
--
<ste...@panix.com>
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Why post about something that you obviously know _nothing_ about.
Because you are another brainless moron repeating 20-hand news so
you can momentarily appear to have aquired an IQ close to that of
a titanium ice-screw. !#%%! YOU!
-- Debi Evans delurks with a bang, rec.climbing, June 1997
Steelmnkey
rocky landing on my head. 6" pancake of a strawberry on my right shoulder,
broken right elbow plus a whole bunch of rotator cuff damage in both shoulders.
I've been hurt more and worse mountain biking than anything I've got from
climbing.
G.
Chiloe
Sorry to see that this canard, misremembered from a one-sided story,
still festers in some hearts.
Henry's own account seemed quite plausible and sympathetic to me.
And it's interesting to compare _The Breach_ with Joe Simpson's
_Touching the Void_. The two accidents have a few parallels, but
the authors' reactions are night and day.
Adam
The best thing I ever did in terms of sport safety was giving up mountain
biking (which I sucked at, bad) completely in favor of climbing.
True, I've had my share of injuries from climbing - the usual tendon tweaks
and doinks and one major vertebrae issue that kept me out for a year. But
if I had kept riding, I would surely be dead 20 times over by now.
"Steelmnkey" <steel...@aol.com> wrote in message
news:20011209121513...@mb-mo.aol.com...
ted cookson
climbing...
Ted Cookson
Steelmnkey
>
>Word up!
>
>True, I've had my share of injuries from climbing - the usual tendon tweaks
>and doinks and one major vertebrae issue that kept me out for a year. But
>if I had kept riding, I would surely be dead 20 times over by now.
I don't know about dead, but I'd still be broken-bone-free if I had.
Actually, I'm getting pretty good a nearly damage free endos. If I just didn't
have all those sharp little rocks and cactus to fall in, I'd probably have it
whipped.
G.
Jesus
says...
I had a new girlfriend and we had taken a ski trip to tell-you-ride for a
thanksgiving skitrip. Trouble was there was no snow. So I had the great idea of
renting mountainbikes. As we where going down a gentle hill and my mind was
wandering to the events of the previous evening :) I hit the only smooth 1/2"
high boulder in the dirt road. Batten goes over the handle bars, reaches out to
protect the face, removes square inches of flesh from the hands and subloxes
the shoulder.
Batten never rides a mountain bike again.
But I did get to ride one to the top of El Cap from Crane.
I had the first mountain bike in 1980.
Batten
Mad Dog
>I had a new girlfriend and we had taken a ski trip to tell-you-ride for a
>thanksgiving skitrip.
That's "to-Hell-you-ride" to you, buddy.
Adam
was 25 years old. I'd been a pretty heavy milage roadie living in the bay
area (early 90's) and then moved up to Lake Tahoe in 1993 when mountain
biking was really hitting it big. I snagged a job working as a mechanic in
a local shop (I knew how to service a road bike, so it wasn't much of a
stretch at that time).
Well of course, the road riding in Tahoe is worthless, so I took advantage
of employee pro-form and purchased a slick new bike with a manitou 4 shock,
all XT components, the works for about 40 cents on the dollar.
First ride, was with my boss and another employee, just on some fire roads.
Not much different than road riding so I kept up no problem on the uphills
and flats. Then came a long descent. My little digi speedometer said 28
mph when it happened.
Up ahead there was a small log, really not much more than a stick, in the
trail. I'd bunny hopped all kinds of things in road bike clipless pedals,
so I thought no problem.
Big problem. Somehow I managed to not lift enough and my front wheel
smacked it and ended up sideways. Me and the bike traveled about 100 feet
in distance, and the guy behind me said he had never seen a bike (manned or
not) go that high in the air. I didn't catch that part, I was too busy
using my jaw as a dirt brake.
Damage tally:
Tacoed both wheels beyond repair.
broken bars
bent shock leg
broken chainstay
But amazingly, no damage to me personally.
I managed to get another 2 dozen or so rides in before someone mercifully
took me climbing for the first time.
"Steelmnkey" <steel...@aol.com> wrote in message
news:20011209204143...@mb-mk.aol.com...
Jeff Gilbert
funky pinch with my right index knuckle under a crimp, thumb pinching
the top of the crimp. Cranked and POP! Spiral fracture down the
index finger. Two months before that spent time in the ER when my
partner whipped from atop the roof of Firecracker at Donner Summit and
busted his wrist, severe concusion..that was my second day ever
climbing.
jeff
Warren T.
After 20 years of motorcycles, climbing and other high risk behavior
(mostly induced by alcohol) without a trip to the ER, it took my 4
year old daugther to clip me from behind while ice skating...
Broke my left elbow.
ER and the X-ray session were a bitch but I discovered Vicoden. Now
THAT's medicine...
WT
Scott Presho
Bumping My Head
Even as a small child I remember bumping my head alot. My earliest
rememberence of this blurry series of cranial mishaps came even before
kindergarten. Eating ice cream at Grandma and Grandpa's house was always a
big treat, even back in the days when I was eating in a highchair. This
was also about the time I learned of ice cream headaches. Throwing my head
back and howling was enough to pitch me over backward onto the floor,
chair and all. As a toddler, I remember borrowing all of the elastic
headband things that my sisters used to hold their hair back. Pretending
to be an Indian, with all of these headband things strapped to my
forehead, I ran whooping through the house, just like the Indians on TV
would do. Since there were so many of these headband things on my
forehead, some of them inevitably slipped down over my eyes. Running
hither and yon, I tripped on some unseen object (probably my feet), and
crashed into the edge of the coffee table. The resulting, copius
head-wound-type bleeding ruined every one of those headband things, much
to my sisters chagrin.
There is in my memory a brief hiatus in the string of injuries I had
started with the infamous Head Band Incident (This is not to say they
didnąt occur so much as I just canąt remember them.). This lull ended
quite abruptly one fine June day in 1964 when I suffered a karmic fall
from a sycamore tree while trying to steal baby sparrows from the nest.
The ensuing broken left femur and lacerated chin provided me with the
experience of six weeks on my back in traction, and another four weeks in
a cast that extended from my armpits down the length of my left leg to
just short of my toes. Not letting a little thing like this keep me down
(literally), I was eventually up and lumbering around in this plaster
leisure suit. In retrospect, I imagine I looked something like a cross
between the Mummy and Frankenstein. The resulting pressure on my abdomen
from standing in the cast was diagnosed as the cause of a mysterious bout
of vomiting, so I was required to stay off my feet. This two and a half
months of forced immobility resulted in a pair of severely atrophied
limbs. After removing the cast, the doctor thought it would be a good idea
for me to start riding a bike in order that I might avoid wearing braces
on my incredibly skimpy legs. So I did, and quickly collided with the back
of my Aunt Bettyąs maroon, Ś64 Dodge Dart that was parked in front of our
house. The patching I got from my friend, Doctor łDamned Two-Wheel
Vehicles˛ Johnson, came complete with a nifty pressure bandage wound
turban-like around my head.
I started first grade walking on crutches with this serious looking
pressure bandage wrapped around my head. It made for a lot of Śfuną
kickball games and childish ridicule. I continued riding the bike I had
borrowed from Lonny Bitzer. It was too small for me, but it had two
wheels, so I eventually got pretty cocky on the thing. Too cocky, in fact:
Taft, CA. is pretty well known for very few reasons. One of them is the
size of the tumbleweeds that occasionally roll through town. One of the
larger of the species found its way onto our street one fall day. It
looked pretty spindly, so I decided that I would ride my borrowed bike
Evel Kneivel-style right through it and send it shattering into a million
pieces. Tumbleweeds are, it seems, pretty resilient. This one launched me
like a rocket straight up into the air. I remember being pretty high up,
the street seeming to get narrower below me. Surprisingly, I recovered
from the ensuing landing fairly quickly and got back on my bike, muttering
six year old oaths at the demon weed as I wobbled away.
I have, after much contemplation, come to the conclusion that the reason I
was able to shake off this pair of post-femur breaking launch and splash
down episodes was due to the high pain threshhold I had gained from The
Nurse at The Hospital during The Traction Episode. She spent much time,
and seemed to gain fiendish delight in, torturing me in the name of
medicine while I lay helpless with a fractured femur and festering chin
stitches. She was a wicked, rough old bitch who had me do pull-ups on a
bar suspended over my bed while she changed the sheets underneath me. She
wouldnąt answer my buzzer at night, causing me to pee on myself. Upon
discovering this aberrant behavior, she would sternly reprimand me for
being so łmessy˛. Iąve heard children wondering where the legs go when
Dorothy and Toto land Auntie Emąs house on the Wicked Witch of the East.
Glenda and those munchkins have us believing that sheąs dead. Well, she
isnąt. Sheąs very much alive and still working at Memorial Hospital in
Bakersfield, California because witches are immortal, you know.
As a child I was always experimenting with cause and effect relationships;
like what happens when you put a board on a fulcrum with a rock on one end
and then you jump on the other end. łIt hits you in the head.˛, was the
observation I made during this experiment. Several stitches over my right
eye was the resulting prognosis made by my friend, Doctor Johnson. Many
years later, while studying physics, I happened upon a description of
Newtonąs Third Law of Motion: łWhenever one body exerts a force on a
second body, the second body exerts a force on the first body; these
forces are equal in magnitude and oppositely directed.˛ I pondered this
concept only briefly before coming to the conclusion that if Newton had
been beaned by a six pound chunk of quartz instead of just an apple, he
might have deleted the ł...these forces are equal in magnitude...˛ part.
I was never really big on playing sports, but that never stopped me from
being enthused about the game of hitting rocks with a pick axe handle to
see how far they would go. Neighborhood friends also found great
satisfaction in this seemingly harmless pasttime. Stevie Kranyak was
particularly adept at batting rocks, and was in fact, the first switch
hitter I ever knew. I found out about switch hitting by standing on the
wrong side of him as he pasted a line drive all the way across the street.
His follow through pasted me to the ground, adding to the bump that my
Aunt Bettyąs Dart had permanantly afixed to my forehead and drawing yet
another draft of blood. My father, apparently afraid of the pointed
questions now coming from the staff of my friend, Doctor Johnson, figured
that this latest opening in my flesh could be mended with a butterfly
bandage. He was right and the resulting scar caused by Stevieąs scathing
swing and my inattention to his left-handedness is probably less obvious
for this first aid than the stitches my friend, Doctor Johnson, would have
cussingly installed.
As time went by, the usual cuts, abrasions, and contusions a healthy boy
will incur during normal play were interspersed with the unusual events
that only someone cursed with a bump-prone head can appreciate. I faintly
remember walking to school one day, totally engrossed in a book, when a
telephone pole stepped in my way and cold cocked me in the forehead. My
cousin Liane found this to be particularly amusing. She was walking right
next to me and could have warned me, if her pentient for witnessing such
amusing sights hadnąt interfered with her family-held duty of warning me
of such imminent danger.
The next catastrophe that befell the region above my torso was after we
had moved to the other side of town (which really wasnąt much of a move
given the diminuititve size of Taft). I had acquired my own Stingray bike
and was steadily increasing proficiency in itąs operation. Iąd learned how
to ride long wheelies, and it was this very activity that was the reason
for my next demise. That, and the fact that I failed to put lock washers
on the nuts of the front wheel axle. Dropping off the curb in a full
wheelie right in front of my house, the front tire popped off and rolled
across the street. The now-bare forks bit into the pavement, and
milliseconds later so did my chin. It was, in fact, the first part of me
to touch down. I remember hearing my friend Glenn, who was riding next to
me, say, łOoooo!˛, as though he knew the excruciating pain I had just
experienced. I got up off the ground in a bell-rung stupor, blood dripping
onto my shirt, and headed for my house. Seeing my sisterąs boyfriend
coming out of the front door, I managed a feeble, łHelp?˛, before
pitching face first into the lawn, out like a light. When I awoke, I was
on my bed. My sisterąs boyfriend was holding a towel to my chin. My
sisters were running around frantically giving my mom reports on my
condition while she calmly put on her make-up in another part of the
house. I suppose that for her these events had become pretty mundane.
I heard my friend, Doctor Johnson, even before he entered the emergency
room. He came in cussing, cussed while he stitched me up, and I could
still hear him cussing long after he had left. That night, with a jaw that
would only open a matter of millimeters, I sat down to a steak dinner
prepared by my mom. Fortunately, the baked potatoes mashed up pretty well
and I was able to take some sustenance that evening. łWhy steak?˛, I ask
myself to this day.
Even as an adult Iąm not immune to connecting my head to immoveable
objects with a certain degree of force: I have never been very good at
finding things in big stores. One day I was walking through a hardware
store diligently trying to find some object by looking down each aisle as
I walked by. I never did find what I was looking for, but I did find one
of the concrete-filled metal support poles that held up the roof. It
nailed me right on the Dodge-Dart-pick-axe-handle bump, completely
blinding me and sending me to the floor. All I remember as I went down was
some unseen guy saying ,˛Ooooo!˛, as though he knew the excruciating pain
I felt at that moment. (There is no way he could have known the pain I
felt at that moment.) I blindly picked myself up off the floor as this
still unseen person asked me if I was okay. I lied that I was fine and
started taking a few wobbly steps as my vision began to return. Stumbling
around the hardware store, bell-rung and vision blurred, I tried my
darndest to remember why I was there. To this day I do not know what it
was I was looking for. I have probably since purchased it for Iąm certain
there was a need for it, but even if this is the case, I'm sure I never
related it to the TKO I suffered at the hardness of that concrete-filled
metal pole.
Climbing has been a consuming passion of mine for more than half my life.
An odd sport to indulge in considering my track record. I'm a fair
climber, but even the best can't always avoid the objective dangers: Phil,
Mike and I retreated from the West Ridge of Forbidden Peak in the
Washington Cascades due to my not wanting to lead what had to be lead (ice
glazed rock) with what little equipment we had. We rappelled the coulior
leading to the start of the ridge. As I stood at the mouth of the coulior
waiting for Phil to pull the ropes, a glittering object with a
hummingbird sound appeared before my face. I had only enough time to turn
sideways as the fist-sized chunk of ice nailed me in the forehead. Though
a glancing blow it was, it still knocked my sunglasses off my face and
sent me reeling to my knees in the snow. The physical damage was
superficial and we continued with our descent.
Back at work that Monday, my boss asked me what happened to my face. I
related the event to him. His response was only, "Appropriate name for a
peak."
Doyle Tarwater
> climbing, the more selective I get.
>
Wow, and to think I'm going climbing with Mark this weekend for the
first time!
Anyway, the last time I was in an ER as a patient was 1977! Lucky,
huh? I was in my Minnesota paddling days, trying to paddle everything
in four states. We were doping a farm river, where farmers had
strungs barbed wire across the river for some strange reason. So we
had to lift the strands up to get the canoe under. Getting tired of
this I used my paddle to push up on a three wire section, separated by
a branch. The wire pivoted and ripped my left ear through. Hurt like
hell. Bled like a faucet. We finished the paddle, I rode the bike
back 20 miles to get the car, and hours later, back at the U, I was
showering and felt the huge gap in my ear. So I went to the medical
school ER and they stitiched me up. I have the tender scar still.
When I froze my foot and it got infected climbing my 20 K in Nepal, I
never saw a doctor.
Steve
My family and I were doing a cross-country road trip from California
to upstate NY. We were visiting friends in Atlanta, and while driving
down the freeway on December 22, a tub falls off a truck in front of
us. My wife swerves to avoid it, we fishtale 5 times, then roll
twice. Ford Explorers SUCK. SUVs are top heavy, but there is no
reason we should have lost control. My old 4Runner handled way
better. (If you have an pre 2001 Explorer be careful, I think there
is soemthing inherently wrong with the design.)
Anyway, I had just read a post somewhere about loose objects becoming
dangerous in accidents, so I bought a cargo net and had everything
lashed down securely. I am so thankful I did because my 8 month old
son came through without a scratch. My wife got a half dollar sized
chunk of her elbow taken off (windshield?), and it looked like it got
hit with a baseball bat. I wrenched my back. We both wrenched our
necks.
Then I remembered we had our dogs in the back. Almost every window
was broken and the rear hatch was open. One of them took off into the
woods. After our trip to the ER, we looked for her and couldn't find
her. On Christmas day instead of egg-nog and presents I got to send
my wife and son off on a plane to NY. I spent 9 days trampling trough
the woods looking for my dog, and finally, thanks to calls from 4
different people who spotted her and saw my flyers I got her back.
Then 2 days in a rental truck during New Years and were all back
together. All's well that ends well.
-Steve
SirBatten
pro...@hotmail.com says...
Battens Ford Explorer Story
Batten gets this great idea he will be able to drive up to Bishop, replace a
seismometer for Caltech, and have all afternoon to Boulder in the Buttermilks.
Driving about 10 miles out of Mojave in the Labs new SUV - Explorer class,
Batten encounters a camper shell sitting in the traffic lane.
Batten is going 70mph at 5am.
Batten nearly died that day.
Did not roll it, but sure was up on two tires!
Batten is white as a Sheet.
Peace Love and Ford SUV's
Batten
Julie
> On Christmas day instead of egg-nog and presents I got to send
> my wife and son off on a plane to NY. I spent 9 days trampling trough
> the woods looking for my dog, and finally, thanks to calls from 4
> different people who spotted her and saw my flyers I got her back.
> Then 2 days in a rental truck during New Years and were all back
> together. All's well that ends well.
(Excuse the waste of bandwidth, please:) Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!
JSH, 5.8 dog lover.
Rob Williams
On a related note: 11 p.m. and I'm driving to Skull Hollow to meet up
with friends for climbing at Smith. I round a curve in the road and
look deep in the eyes of the 5 deer in the middle of the road in front
of me. Hard braking and swerving caused a drivers-side leading roll
in slow motion. Just went up on its side. Zeke, my golden retriever
in the back, jetted as soon as I opened the door. No way, no how was
he coming near me or that truck. Poor guy. Neither of us were
injured. Popped the truck back on its wheels (kudos to a local in a
high-rise dodge) and drove it home--after a weekend of climbing.
Rob
Julie
> Zeke, my golden retriever
> in the back, jetted as soon as I opened the door. No way, no how was
> he coming near me or that truck. Poor guy. Neither of us were
> injured. Popped the truck back on its wheels (kudos to a local in a
> high-rise dodge) and drove it home--after a weekend of climbing.
What, without the dog? Sheesh!
JSH
Guillaume Dargaud
OK, if we want to make other people have bad dreams with accident horror
stories, I have a good (?) one:
I got married with Jenny 18 months ago (yes, this is relevant) in France
while we were still living in Rome. So we had all our wedding gifts in the
car. Plus all my photo gear and much more.
We had our honeymoon climbing in the alps in spring, so we had all our
climbing gear in the car (rock+ice).
We were scheduled to go climb Cho Oyu a month later and our financial
contribution to the expedition was to buy gear (mainly down suits) in France
for the other members (all romans). So we had tons of bran new clothing and
gear in the car.
I stopped in Nice on the way back to pick up a radar amplifier for my job
(27000$) and we drove back to Rome, happily married...
50km from home there's a sudden traffic jam. The small Fiat Tipo is loaded
but I break fine. _Very_ hot day, I'm wearing shorts, bare chest and Jenny
is in underwear. Even with all the stuff we had in the car I had left a
small window in the back so I could use the rearview mirror... I can see a
guy coming at 150km/h one km away, on a perfect straight line. He's not
slowing down. He's NOT slowing down. I barely have time to yell to Jenny:
"He's not slowing down, hang on" and "bang!" he thrust our car onto the 5
ones ahead while exploding in flames like in a bad Hollywood movie.
We jumped off with minor burns, cut our feet on the glass and... watched 8
cars burn to cinders. I think he was on his cell phone. He wasn't even
wearing his seat belt but came out with only a bump on his head. Our car was
crushed to the size of a small desk (did all the down jackets dampen the
bang ?).
In the ambulance with jenny and that moron I was trying to decide wether or
not to just outright kill him. Maybe because he kept saying: "I'm sorry, I'm
sorry..."
We spent the rest of the night half naked with bandaged feet at the police
station starting to _long_ list of burnt gear...
Anyway, you know how insurances work in Italy ? They pay back only the car
and medical expanses. Nothing else. And I have a good lawyer too...
We took the train back to Paris the next WE and blew up all our savings at
the Vieux Campeur to rebuy ALL our gear. Can you imagine: 2 days non stop
shopping and pilling up gear in the world's biggest climbing store ? That
was almost funny. The woman at the counter was like: "but didn't I see you
here 2 weeks ago with your wedding list ?". She cried when she heard the
story and gave us 20% discount !!!
We were still stiff and bandaged when we took off for Cho Oyu but we bagged
the fucking summit. As I was choking on the lack of O2 on the summit
plateau, I kept bringing up desperate last threads of energy imagining what
I'd to to the guy if I I had him in front of me right that minute...
You want pictures too ?!? Scroll down this page to the bottom:
http://rome.atmos.colostate.edu/Family/Wedding.html
Shit, that hurts writing this stuff...
Just remember, all of you, that I've lost more friends in car accidents
(some falling asleep coming back from climbs) than to the mountains...
--
Guillaume Dargaud
Colorado State University - Dept of Atmospheric Science
http://rome.atmos.colostate.edu/Climbing/ChoOyu.html
"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately. To front
only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had
to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." -
Henry David Thoreau.
Mike Garrison
>
> On a related note: 11 p.m. and I'm driving to Skull Hollow to meet up
> with friends for climbing at Smith. I round a curve in the road and
> look deep in the eyes of the 5 deer in the middle of the road in front
> of me. Hard braking and swerving caused a drivers-side leading roll
> in slow motion. Just went up on its side. Zeke, my golden retriever
> in the back, jetted as soon as I opened the door. No way, no how was
> he coming near me or that truck. Poor guy. Neither of us were
> injured. Popped the truck back on its wheels (kudos to a local in a
> high-rise dodge) and drove it home--after a weekend of climbing.
My sister rolled her truck over one time with the dog in the
back. Ever after the dog would happily ride up front, but
was mighty reluctant to get into a kennel in the back.
Jim Leininger
with only minor injuries, not including your prodeand your gear!!!
The pictures and trip report are great, congratulations on the
summit!!!
Geoff Jennings
For those in the US, renters or home owners insurance is good for covering
your gear. I've got it. It's worth the piece of mind when you park your
car with a $1000 Kayak, $4000 worth of dive gear, and $2500 worth of
climbing gear.
Geoff _I still haven't bought furniture.
--
________________________
A man sits with a pretty girl for an hour, it seems like a minute. He sits
on a hot stove for a minute, it's longer than any hour. That is relativity.
Albert Einstein
"Guillaume Dargaud" <dar...@sung3.ifsi.rm.cnr.it> wrote in message
news:3c39...@news.ColoState.EDU...
ed." -
> Henry David Thoreau.
>