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"Because it's there."

McKenna said:
I've been waiting for Perg to get home before posting this pic. I ran across it while doing some research on climbing the other day. Bloody hell, even looking at it makes my toes tingle. Eep.

http://images.zwani.com/graphics/funny_pictures/images/funny-pictures115.jpg
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Ah, life on a big wall. Sleeping, eating, pooping, having sex with thousands of feet underneath you, always tied to the wall somehow. Wild. I have not yet experienced "big wall" climbing...but I will.
 
Peregrinator said:
Ah, life on a big wall. Sleeping, eating, pooping, having sex with thousands of feet underneath you, always tied to the wall somehow. Wild. I have not yet experienced "big wall" climbing...but I will.
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You wanna be the Sherpa or the wife?
 
Raidho said:
That hanging tent?

That is so more hardcore than I'd ever want to be.

*shudder*
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We call those "portaledges." You're still tied in directly to an anchor, like you always are in climbing. I've heard they're quite comfortable, except when it's pouring rain and really windy...
 
Peregrinator said:
We call those "portaledges." You're still tied in directly to an anchor, like you always are in climbing. I've heard they're quite comfortable, except when it's pouring rain and really windy...
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I prefer to save my suspension for disbelief.

I'm getting motion sickness just thinking about it.

I want to climb, one day. But this? I'm glad that other people do it so I can see the pictures.
 
Raidho said:
I prefer to save my suspension for disbelief.

I'm getting motion sickness just thinking about it.

I want to climb, one day. But this? I'm glad that other people do it so I can see the pictures.
Click to expand...

Well said.

Fair enough. Not everyone is into doing climbs that take more than a day. It's a form of mountaineering, really. I've never done it myself.
 
Peregrinator said:
Well said.

Fair enough. Not everyone is into doing climbs that take more than a day. It's a form of mountaineering, really. I've never done it myself.
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Not familiar enough with it to know the nuances, but yeah, I think I'd excuse myself from an invitation from that activity.

I'm more of a hiker, though. I don't know the first thing about climbing.

All the more possibility to learn, though.
 
Raidho said:
Not familiar enough with it to know the nuances, but yeah, I think I'd excuse myself from an invitation from that activity.

I'm more of a hiker, though. I don't know the first thing about climbing.

All the more possibility to learn, though.
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That's where I started. Climbing is an extension of hiking for me, a way to safely visit more forbidding terrain. It's really just a set of tools used when traveling in the mountains.
 
Peregrinator said:
That's where I started. Climbing is an extension of hiking for me, a way to safely visit more forbidding terrain. It's really just a set of tools used when traveling in the mountains.
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My problem is that I simply want to do *everything*

Walking outside was my main form activity for a long time, which extended into hiking when I realized there was cooler stuff to see inside a forest.

Hiking is extending, once again, and I absolutely long to see as much as I can before I kick the bucket. Discovering hiking was the tip of the proverbial iceberg for me.

It's proven to be an incentive for fitness that I hadn't had before.

I want it all, and I want to be in shape to do it.

What makes it even worse is the pic threads here. The more I see, the more I want to do. Thanks for sharing your stuff.
 
Raidho said:
My problem is that I simply want to do *everything*

Walking outside was my main form activity for a long time, which extended into hiking when I realized there was cooler stuff to see inside a forest.

Hiking is extending, once again, and I absolutely long to see as much as I can before I kick the bucket. Discovering hiking was the tip of the proverbial iceberg for me.

It's proven to be an incentive for fitness that I hadn't had before.

I want it all, and I want to be in shape to do it.

What makes it even worse is the pic threads here. The more I see, the more I want to do. Thanks for sharing your stuff.
Click to expand...

That's the slippery slope that draws you upward into the mountains, baby! Enjoy it!

Glad I could provide a little inspiration.
 
Linked to me by atmas:

COPYRIGHT 2008 National Review, Inc.

O the mind, mind has mountains ... --Gerard Manley Hopkins

I WONDER about the choices we make to get on the margins of reality. There are many realities, and many vanishing points, but the one on my mind right now is mountaineering.

I recently spent a week in Alaska trying to learn how to be a mountaineer. I did not succeed very well, and the details are not very interesting. I finished the course (I was enrolled in a course) thinking that perhaps I am better off remaining a slightly-above-average mountain dilettante. An occasional rock climber. A good skier (preferably on teles, sometimes where there are no lifts). And always within a half hour of a dinner that requires a tip. Real mountaineering tends probabilistically--for the odds, ask an actuary--toward death. As also toward the loss of fingers and toes. I like my fingers and my toes and, ceteris paribus, prefer realities in which I have ten of each.

But I find mountaineers seductive, in the sense of admiring them and occasionally wishing to be one. What appeals to me is not the courage (some would substitute "foolishness") of risking death for a trivial end. It is rather the way they use words.

They use them efficiently and compassionately, and with a great deal of intelligence. Which is how you'd want to hear them if you were lost above 8,000 meters, your mind and body were not working right, and a voice from somewhere--a radio, a rescue party--were commanding you to live and explaining how.

I also like the way mountaineering cuts through the metaphors that accrete to "existential questions." Or I guess death is what does that. Mountaineering's contribution is to help one imagine death vividly.

I am not a mountaineer, and there are many vanishing points. If I had once been stranded on a precipice of life, death, and thought, and if later I found myself in radio contact with someone so situated, I might talk like this:

Reality is real, and you are part of it.

This is called "metaphysics."

You don't know how you got here and you don't know where you're going. If we're being rigorous (and we could get very rigorous, but that would take lots of words), you don't even know who you are, or who I am, or what you are and I am, or what reality is. No one else knows, either. We are stumbling through the dark, to what end we know not, and he who claims to know is mistaken at best.

This is called "epistemology."

You should freely choose to treat others as you wish to be treated, instead of shoving with hands or words. But if you press me hard on what "should" means, I won't be able to say much.

This is called "ethics."

Metaphysics, epistemology, ethics. These three are called "philosophy," and thus is the sum of their content. The rest is something called "prudence," and it can't be explained very easily. But part of it is this:

Be careful not to get lost here. Use your head and your heart and go try to be happy somewhere. In whatever reality looks promising to you. Don't waste your time poking around the limits of your realities, the limits of all possible realities, looking for what can't be seen.

And don't worry too much. When someone tells you he's seen past the limits and the news is bad, remember epistemology, then shrug.

Some mountaineers cannot escape the mountains. They enter by choice, but the mountains become a tomb (literally) or a prison (metaphorically). It is hard to live in conventionally comfortable realities as a mountaineer. The pay isn't good. Free markets tend not to reward trivial ends. Mountaineers are in this sense like philosophers.

All the same I am grateful for what they have taught me. I am grateful too for those who venture toward the margins--notwithstanding this is lonely, and exhausting, and sometimes dangerous--in order to remind floundering intelligences that they are lost, and to suggest a way home. The way will be familiar ("circularity"), but a rescued man tends not to complain.

One day we got stuck in camp. White glacier below us, white fog all around us, white snowflakes driven here and there by incalculable forces known as "the wind." Visibility was a few dozen feet. The only color we could see was the bright orange of our tents and the bright green feathers on the chest of a small bird.

"Lost," said one of our guides. "Can't see in the fog. Circling above us because he can see the tents. Probably freeze to death."

We nodded.

"Poor little thing." (This was muttered quickly, with compassion.)

In my mind I said a prayer for the bird, talking as I do when someone might hear. Eventually it gave up on the tents and vanished into white.
 
Nevermind, it was de' ja vu, to much Glenlivet.
 
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