Back From The Black

Hoo-eee, there’s pavement, and daylight, and electricity, and… my ‘puterbox!!!

Hi Y’all (pulls pine needles and dried leaves from scalp)! Good to be back (removes smoked jeans and annealed undies)! Ya shoulda been there (just kiddin)!

So my Gathering of Climbing Dirtbags was a huge success, eliciting unintelligible moans of presumed pleasure from The Flatlanders who were enticed to visit the Great North Woods, despite their preconceptions of the dismal climbing to be found in these parts.

Little did they know.

But NOW they know. I served them up a smorgasboard of lithic loveliness which had them massaging their groins in anticipation, and later, drooling all over each other in their feeble attempts to describe their experiences (as though we weren’t all there to see how it unfolded.)

The Jon snagged the best line of the day, which he named Caravan (as is the prerogative of the First Ascentionist):

Thirty feet of really steep, thin climbing. The man’s got a head on ’em. Kudos, my friend.

Other stuff went down, including Holedondita, sent by Nate

and The Coffin, here worked by my friend John:

I tell ya, as a broken old fart, I was roundly impressed.

So despite its dismal failure as a fund-raiser, the weekend was a super get-together of climbers from the larger region. And despite my inability to participate in the climbing, I enjoyed scurrying around with my camera and watching folks enjoy the fruits of my months-long labors, cleaning the boulders and making the surrounds inviting.

I’m already psyched for next year’s gathering!