New and Experienced Climbers Over 50 #18

Carl Schneider wrote:

crawl up to a red light for 50 meters at 1K an hour. Just get there and stop! 

If the light is red anyway you don't save anytime being a jackrabbit.  You do use more gas and wear out your brakes quicker.

https://www.facebook.com/therealKrizzKaliko/videos/3189338311296588

Being pulled over by cop:  "You said I was going 75, dude?  No sir. I was not even!  I don't even go that slow on the backroads.  What do you think I'm a little bitty snail or something?  I'll go 75 when I'm 75, dude."

(My kid just happened to post this yesterday and it had me in stitches.  Wish I could find a URL to post the actual video). 

Carl Schneider wrote:

You've shared this shot before and I think it seems so classic to me. Of course I'm a newbie to climbing so this seems so strange to me. When I was that age all I was doing was smoking dope, surfing, listening to Zed Zep and polishing my car. What year was this? 

10,000 BC

Good job Dwaine, you killed the thread!

Speaking of talking your way out of a speeding ticket, in my case a whole lot bigger than 35 in a 25...

My wife likes fast sports cars. She also likes it when I drive. So, there we were going up CA14 between Landcancer and Mojave. The road was empty, we were talking, and I was paying zero attention to my speed. It was one of those cars where if you didn’t pay attention it would run away from you, and you wouldn’t even notice. Then I saw the CHP go by in the opposite direction, on the other side of the median. I took my foot off the gas and glanced in the mirror to see him pulling a fast u-turn through the sand. I also saw some sort of Japanese sedan thing gaining on me. He blew right by us at high speed at high speed. Whew.

The cop came beside us, no flashing lights, looked at me a signaled with a hand gesture "PULL OVER". Then he hit the lights, jammed ahead, and pulled over the other guy. There we were, rice burner in front, cop in the middle, and us in back. The cop went up and talked to the other guy first. Then he came back to us.

He leaned over and spoke to us through Barbara’s open window, passenger side. "I pulled you over for speeding, do you know how fast you were going?"

"No sir, I wasn't paying attention until I saw you. I realized I was going too fast, and I slowed down." Magic words.

The cop went up, used his trunk lid for a desk, wrote the other guy a ticket and gave it to him. It must have been a whopper. Now it was just him and us.

"You really don't know how fast you were going?"

"Like I said, officer, we were talking, I wasn't watching my speed until I saw you."

"I had you at 97 coming over the rise." I was surprised. He continued. "Okay, you sound fair enough. The other guy insisted he was doing 75, and he passed you." Then he stuck his face right up in the window to take a closer look at us. "I don't suppose you see a lot of dead people in your line of work?" He didn't wait for an answer. "You know, I really hate when I have to see what's left of a nice looking couple like you get scraped up out of the sand after their car went end over end across the desert because some tweaker cut them off!"

He continued his lecture as we sat in stunned silence. He finished by pointing out that we weren't on a freeway. Despite the traffic lanes being separated by a median, dirt roads intersect with the highway at regular intervals. "You see those trailers out there scattered around in the desert? Every so often one of those damn tweakers decides to drive out and get on the highway. Your car handles pretty well I bet."

"Yes Sir."

"Well, it won't handle so well going end over end across the desert after some tweaker pulls out right in front of you."

He ended up giving me a warning.

To this day I never do more than five over on that stretch of road.

Eric Engberg wrote:

If the light is red anyway you don't save anytime being a jackrabbit.  You do use more gas and wear out your brakes quicker.

Yeah, but you can still get there at a reasonable pace so everyone doesn't have to crawl.... You don't need to RUSH to a red light, but no need to dilly-dally.... 

Cosmiccragsman AKA Dwain wrote:

10,000 BC

EXACTLY? Wow! I was thinking 10,013, maybe 10,017-ish but I know there was a bit of a resurgence of the knee pad thing in 10,005 due to Thug Thorassen's ascent of 'Ug' 9c++++^(3+©).

I always felt the grading system was extremely complex in the Paleolithic era, even that late...

Kristian Solem wrote:

Speaking of talking your way out of a speeding ticket, in my case a whole lot bigger than 35 in a 25...

My wife likes fast sports cars. She also likes it when I drive. So, there we were going up CA14 between Landcancer and Mojave. The road was empty, we were talking, and I was paying zero attention to my speed. It was one of those cars where if you didn’t pay attention it would run away from you, and you wouldn’t even notice. Then I saw the CHP go by in the opposite direction, on the other side of the median. I took my foot off the gas and glanced in the mirror to see him pulling a fast u-turn through the sand. I also saw some sort of Japanese sedan thing gaining on me. He blew right by us at high speed at high speed. Whew.

The cop came beside us, no flashing lights, looked at me a signaled with a hand gesture "PULL OVER". Then he hit the lights, jammed ahead, and pulled over the other guy. There we were, rice burner in front, cop in the middle, and us in back. The cop went up and talked to the other guy first. Then he came back to us.

He leaned over and spoke to us through Barbara’s open window, passenger side. "I pulled you over for speeding, do you know how fast you were going?"

"No sir, I wasn't paying attention until I saw you. I realized I was going too fast, and I slowed down." Magic words.

The cop went up, used his trunk lid for a desk, wrote the other guy a ticket and gave it to him. It must have been a whopper. Now it was just him and us.

"You really don't know how fast you were going?"

"Like I said, officer, we were talking, I wasn't watching my speed until I saw you."

"I had you at 97 coming over the rise." I was surprised. He continued. "Okay, you sound fair enough. The other guy insisted he was doing 75, and he passed you." Then he stuck his face right up in the window to take a closer look at us. "I don't suppose you see a lot of dead people in your line of work?" He didn't wait for an answer. "You know, I really hate when I have to see what's left of a nice looking couple like you get scraped up out of the sand after their car went end over end across the desert because some tweaker cut them off!"

He continued his lecture as we sat in stunned silence. He finished by pointing out that we weren't on a freeway. Despite the traffic lanes being separated by a median, dirt roads intersect with the highway at regular intervals. "You see those trailers out there scattered around in the desert? Every so often one of those damn tweakers decides to drive out and get on the highway. Your car handles pretty well I bet."

"Yes Sir."

"Well, it won't handle so well going end over end across the desert after some tweaker pulls out right in front of you."

He ended up giving me a warning.

To this day I never do more than five over on that stretch of road.

That almost makes me think about telling you about that time I went out hanging around with a mate from work. 

Drove to his place in my big brown 308 Holden Statesman I bought from my brother a few weeks before. It was a cool car.

Anyway, we headed out on a Saturday night after work and parked up a quiet country road, put on the radio and smoked a significant amount of really good 1980's dope.  

We were sitting and smoking for a long time and I had no thought at all about how to get home, I was just enjoying the vibe. It came time for me to drive so off I drove into what appeared to me to be a huge black abyss of a hole in front of me. I was so stoned all I could really see is black.  So I'm cruising along in blackness, feeling like the car's floating and I say "Wouldn't it be funny if we got pulled over by the cops right now?".  I giggle a bit, get distracted by something in the mirror and then slowly comprehend that the something in the mirror is blue and red and flashing. 

So they pull us over and I get out and they're asking questions. Where am I going? Can they see my license?, etc.The cop's got my license in front of him and he asks my birth date.  I tell him it and he looks at the license and says "That's not what it says here".  

So right now is where I start second guessing everything.  

I say again "fourteen four sixty two". 

"That's not what it says here"

I'm getting really confused now about everything and can't understand why I don't know when I was born. Then they asked me the license plate number of the car. I have NO idea. 

Then one of the cops says they have a record that this car with these plates is blue, not brown, and it is owned by a car dealership. I explain a bit forcefully (because I'm scared) that I bought the car from my brother just a few days ago and it's sort of like obviously brown but I don't know if it's been painted...

So now I'm confused about when I was born, what colour the car is, and if I own it and am wondering if I'm going to get arrested for stealing a car etc etc.  By now I'm getting a bit argumentative, because I'm way too pretty and innocent and smooth to go to prison and my mate's trying to cool me down and get me round the back of the car and say "dude, chill". So this sort of thing goes on for what seems like ages...

FUNNY thing is. Really fucking funny thing is... they just all of a sudden basically say "no worries, so anyway, catch you later" and we're free to go... So off I go in my brown 308 Holden Statesman to drop the mate off and slink home wondering what the fuck actually happened...

(The pic is of a car like what mine was like but it isn't mine...)

These are great stories.  Carl, that one was a gas.  Kris, for some reason I thought you would not be a speed freak.  (I thought you and Jan were different species.)  

I was sharing some responses with Tony, and opining that I'm not going to get any sympathy here.  Jan's prior post satisfied Tony that you are all good people and he now feels justified in driving exactly as he always has.    He did say, "Lori, you weren't fair...you didn't mention WHY you don't do well in cars."  Ok...I don't do well in FAST careening cars, but, for a buzz kill... what Kris said above.  I was in an end-over-end accident where we rolled clean across the 101 freeway, from the slow lane all the way to the center divider full of ivy--somehow landed upright, but with cars and cops on the scene swearing they thought we were goners.  It wasn't a tweaker who clipped us, but someone did, and happened fast.  I did not have a seat belt on, so it was sort of like a slo-mo movie scene.  It's funny how that today, when Tony is driving a certain speed down the 62, that scene suddenly intrudes upon my consciousness, and I clutch the door handle.

Years later, my fiance died on a hairpin turn on Rattlesnake Road in Pilot Hill... (out past Auburn)... driving home around midnight.  The thing is, he landed in a ravine where he wasn't found for days.  I thought he had left me.  The other thing is, his claim to fame was his driving skills--I mean, he bragged about the number of miles he had driven, and how sharp he was behind the wheel.  Bulletproof.  I was always worried about that particular turn, there were no lights on that road, no guardrails, just a one lane road, so my fiance drove me over there one day and we parked and walked around to have a good look.  He said "Even if you drove off this road right here, you'd land in that tree below. This would be no big deal."  Two years later that's where he flew off the edge... for months after that I would climb down to the bottom of that ravine, sit by the tree where his car landed upside down, and pick through the leaves and debris to find more stuff of his...his glasses, wallet, a note...

I remember his best friend Matt, catching the first flight up there, and holding me all night.  But the one I wanted was gone.  

The rest of that story, and ones that could follow, would be a foray into life-after-death discussions... which probably aren't gonna fly here.  Oh,hell... then again they might.

If there are themes in my life one is that life can change in a heartbeat and you can be left with wreckage.  You think you're a great driver, until you are not.  You think you are safe, until the moment everything changes.  My daughter and her husband are dealing with this right now.  No amount of pleading could get Allan to give up the motorcycle.  I don't know how he is alive, but he is--with years of rehab ahead.  

Tony is older now... I wanna keep him around for awhile.  Really, I'm being selfish, I don't want to grieve again... I really don't.  I know he's cocky.  I know he thinks he's fast and sharp.  But there's something about that first night after someone is gone...the one person you want to hold you, and to talk to, is the one who is forever gone.  I've done enough of that.  

PS.  In fairness, I should mention that I've walked into the house after a long day of climbing when Tony was on the edge of his seat, staring at his cell phone... fearing that the next call might be a bad one.  So I know it goes both ways.   

Lori, Kris is exactly as you imagine him now.  However, drive from Hidden Valley to Ryan and look for the dead Joshua Tree about 100 feet off the right side of the road and go look at all the Porsche debris at the base.  That was put there by Kris going way too fucking fast.  Ask him about that one if you want.  Me, I've pulled a huge number of high speed runs (stunts) and never fucked up.  Again, ask Kris, or Guy.  

Just a few years ago Guy and I were driving out of the Kern River on the lower Kern road.  I was in my WRX and we came up on a 370Z.  He pulled over at around 90 and I passed him doing about 100.  This is a road with most of the corners marked at 25 or less.  This was in spring or 2018 when that winter's high snowfall was melting off and the river was so high that had we gone in we would have been instantly dead so we weren't really worried about going in there.  Guy never complained!

Lori- I was born with the need for speed and lucky for me I didn’t kill my self at a young age with some of the stunts I got away with. Loosing my drivers license when I was 25 was the best thing that ever happened to me. To many tickets on the Honda 500-4 … some of my bike buddies got me and the bike to the track- you didn’t need a license to race. So there I am blasting away thinking I’m the next Kenny Robert’s and someone on another Honda like mine goes underneath me in a hi speed turn going at least 25mph quicker!!!! Right then and there I realized that I didn’t know Jack Shit about going fast because I was a street racing idiot. When you track race you learn things you would never get away with on the street- how to “drop” and “pickup” your front wheel so you can change direction quickly for example. So today I’m only comfortable riding at a rapid rate with very few people- Jan Mc being the only one on this forum.  Because he has raced before and will know what to do when the car starts to get out of shape and will make the right decisions.

It’s best to just slow down- the road constantly throws curve balls your way.

So Lori what car is Tony driving when he is trying to set a record on the 62? A road I’m familiar with.

I’ve been down it with Kris in the Porsche and I think he didn’t go below 100. :) so it’s a “quick” road with blind corners.

Carl- 1975…. Not a “sticky rubber” climbing boot in sight. Nice “Ford” you had- V8?

Funny how everyone drives with such a different mindset.  Only mindset that really bothers me is the "Fuck you, you're not passing me" mindset.  I don't mean the granny in the left lane doing the speed limit - that's only mildly annoying, I mean the MAGA hat wearing hunter in his old pickup, probably out of work, who sees me coming in my Prius, and won't let me pass on a two-lane highway.  Even when we get to a hill where there's a short stretch of second lane just for passing, he floors it and cuts me off in the left lane.  Then when we get to a section where the highway is not so twisty and there's actually a dotted line, soon as I'm up next to him trying to pass him he rolls down his window, gives me the finger, while flooring it, with a car that has just come over the rise toward us.  I hit the brakes and was just able to get back behind him before the car passes us.  This was two weeks ago.  Some folks will do anything to "Own the libs".

My mindset is everyone should go whatever speed they like.  It's not a damn race.  If you want to go fast, fine, I'll keep out of your way.  If you want to go slow, fine, keep out of the way of people who want to go faster.  

GO

That said, I do see why people cruise in the left or middle lane.  If you move right, you're guaranteed to come up on someone going much slower than you, and you likely will not be able to get around them if there's moderate traffic until all the cars left of you pass you.  This leads lots of people to stay left unless the traffic is very light.

No climbing for me, but I've slightly reduced the counterweight on my hangboard training, and added a third set with slightly smaller holds.  Still no sign of the tendonitis flaring up, so things are heading in the right direction. 

GO

Street racing is st0000pid. Too many  variables.  Somehow I survived it.    I did get to see my best friend in two pieces on fire.. 

This one is for you Gable….

We are coming back from Courtright on Sunday about 5pm…. Driving one of the farm roads. My friend in his Izuzu Trooper goes to pass a 67 chev convertible- it’s lowered with the VW sized wheels- I don’t they allow cars like that back east- any way typical low rider going 50, with 4 large men riding in it. Trooper goes to pass but low rider with big V8 power speeds up and with oncoming traffic we back out. I see smoke coming out of Trooper drivers ears and we go to pass again- same thing happens- we get blocked. Trooper driver has done some stockcar racing before and is now waiting and watching… the grape fields roll past, orchids roll past. We finally get to a place where the field is plowed- Trooper driver gives it the beans, Chevy goes full power and stays along side. Chevy driver is grinning and his pals are getting a big laugh out of all this when Trooper driver looks over- flips him off and then executed a perfect stock car “walling” and hits the low rider clean off the road and into the plowed field!!!! We made our escape onto the 99 and headed south. 

Fun times!

Lol! Such great stories!

Lori? You and Tony each need to respect what the other is and isn't comfortable with...when you are together. And accept that the other might do things that you deem scary....when you aren't there. 

That would mean you never soloing when Tony is around, and Tony using his driving skills to keep you feeling comfortable. This is very akin to climbing partnerships, not forcing the partner into something they are not comfortable with. Risk has to be mutual, if both of you are at risk. Driving and climbing aren't dissimilar in that. Beyond that? It's courtesy to someone you care for, and respect, to find the balance.

I got to go out on the LEO training track, with the two instructors, in cop cars at high speeds. I brought my son along (he was newly hired as an EMT with the local paramedics), and let him do the driving. They didn't let the civilian driver spin the other car, but we were in both the cars when they showed that tiny, gentle, bump maneuver off. 

Otherwise, my kid did a great job driving the track, swerving through obstacles, slamming on the brakes with no warning, all with a cop beside him urging him to put the pedal to the medal, go faster next time! A very extreme far cry from any typical driving course. Super fun!

Sadly, that wasn't offered the next year, so even though I again won the prize, I didn't get my chance to drive a patrol car like a berserker.

Best, Helen

Guy Keesee wrote:

I’ve been down it with Kris in the Porsche and I think he didn’t go below 100. :) so it’s a “quick” road with blind corners.

Carl- 1975…. Not a “sticky rubber” climbing boot in sight. Nice “Ford” you had- V8?

If you put up with that you couldn't have been too uncomfortable with me at the wheel.

I recall a time when we were going up the Kern Canyon road in my GTI. You were driving 85/90% and someone came up behind us hot and heavy. You said "Cool, he knows the road," and let him by, expecting to make better time with him in the lead. As he passed we saw that it was some painter's pickup all beat to hell, ladders on the rack and all. WTF? Probably some dude who lived in Lake Isabella or Bodfish who worked in B'Field and did the road five days a week.

The Joshua Tree crash was a mess. There was a public meeting at the ranger station in 29 that evening regarding the idiotic proposal to make the road through the center of the park into a one-way loop a la Red Rocks. I drove up from L.A. to attend, stopped in HVCC to check in with a friend to be sure I had a site, and blasted off for 29 Palms via Sheep Pass and on down. All I remember before the crash was pulling out of the campground onto the road, and going up through the gears shifting just below red line each time. So, I was going waaay to fast. Back then the road surface was irregular and, unlike the modern version, it wandered some with weird changes in direction (not turns, just weird adjustments, as if the surveyor was drunk). I must have hooked up the right front tire on the edge of the pavement. When I came too I remember taking inventory of my limbs and was relieved to find them all still attached and apparently unbroken. The targa top was gone and everything around me was smashed. The dash lights were still on and I went to turn off the ignition but then I realized that the whole scene reeked of gasoline so I thought better of that, and climbed out of the wreck. There were no tire tracks in the sand between the road and the tree. The motor mounts were broken, so when they winched it out of the desert the motor got dragged along underneath the car. My only injury was the kind of concussion you get when your brain gets smacked around the inside of your skull (as opposed to a blow to the head), and even that wasn't serious. No swelling or anything, just a headache for a few daze.

The tree's not dead (last time I saw it), but the bark up to about three feet from the base is all scarred up. If you poke around in the sand around the base, you might still find chips of faded blue paint. Like Jan said, it's about 100 feet off the right side of the road if your heading towards Ryan from HVCC, about halfway down that stretch.

That happened during a time in my life when I was engaged in a lot of self-destructive behaviors, soloing for all the wrong reasons, driving fast cars too fast, getting into crazy shit with women, etc. Basically, I didn't have a risk envelope. I was lucky to live through that phase. It's not something I dwell on much these days. Sometimes I think I have self inflicted PTSD. Is that possible?

This thread has an interesting way of pulling crap out of some of us. Oh well, there you have it.

Guy Keesee wrote:

Carl- 1975…. Not a “sticky rubber” climbing boot in sight. Nice “Ford” you had- V8?

Yeah, it was a V8. I didn't even know climbing was a thing back then... Actually would have been later than 75. I was born in 62 and I was about 19 at the time.... 

Guy Keesee wrote:

This one is for you Gable….

We are coming back from Courtright on Sunday about 5pm…. Driving one of the farm roads. My friend in his Izuzu Trooper goes to pass a 67 chev convertible- it’s lowered with the VW sized wheels- I don’t they allow cars like that back east- any way typical low rider going 50, with 4 large men riding in it. Trooper goes to pass but low rider with big V8 power speeds up and with oncoming traffic we back out. I see smoke coming out of Trooper drivers ears and we go to pass again- same thing happens- we get blocked. Trooper driver has done some stockcar racing before and is now waiting and watching… the grape fields roll past, orchids roll past. We finally get to a place where the field is plowed- Trooper driver gives it the beans, Chevy goes full power and stays along side. Chevy driver is grinning and his pals are getting a big laugh out of all this when Trooper driver looks over- flips him off and then executed a perfect stock car “walling” and hits the low rider clean off the road and into the plowed field!!!! We made our escape onto the 99 and headed south. 

Fun times!

LOL.  Yep, same kinda deal.  Course I don't imagine I could've pulled a "walling" maneuver on the pickup truck in my little Prius even if I knew what that was.  :)  And wouldn't if I could, since chances are I would've driven him right into a tree on that little mountain highway.  And with my wife and four year old in the back seat... nope.

Still - great story.

GO

Wow. Y’all just keep on sharing your stories, I had no idea that the way to a climbers heart was through his/her car. I am kind of amazed to read all of this. I will indeed check around that Joshua Tree, I know just the one. 

I was out climbing this morning and made the spur of the moment decision to go back to C.S.Special.  Thats a Houser route with Ed Ehrenfeld and Bob Molloy (have we talked about them?). To the left of CS Special is a Gaines route and to the left of that is a 5.9 which I found to be a lot of fun.

It’s a pretty amazing rock and that lower boulder start had me completely baffled the first time, and it still does. Maybe I made a little inroad on it but still no cigar.   As I climb these old routes  it’s almost like I can hear the talk, banter, laughter, machismo? that must have been happening as they went up. 

While I was digging in with my fingertips and toes at the crux on that nearly vertical slab all I could think was “What the FUCK were these guys thinking? How did they do this?”  The first bolt is 20 feet at least, and a fall off of that rock could be catastrophic.  I mean there’s no safety there.  

Some days I find it hard to feel any sense of accomplishment when I climb a route like that, on a top rope, and with SO much friggin’ effort, knowing who actually put up these routes, ground up.  Today was one of those days where I thought “SO? That was no big deal.”    Except to me it was.  3 laps on that and I was done.  (19 on the Whoop which means I was working hard.)