本帖最后由 w2 于 2010-12-13 15:39 编辑
ZT: http://www.rockandice.com/compon ... -a-climbing-partner
There’s nothing better than going on a climbing trip. The opportunity to travel is the greatest perk in any climber’s life. There is climbing in every country on earth … just point to some place on the globe, and if you’re a climber you automatically have a reason to go there. Think about it. It’s pretty cool. (No, seriously, think about it. See? Pretty cool.)
I’d say 10 days is the minimum amount of time for a climbing trip to be “worth it,” though I’ve also flown down to Hueco for just a weekend (twice). It takes at least three days just to get used to a new area. Then, you have to pepper in rest days (about three)—an inefficient waste of your time, like showering or meditating, that I loathe but do because it’s necessary. That leaves you with four days to try to send something, which suddenly doesn’t seem like a whole lot considering you’re on a 10-day trip, especially for a guy like me, who has a proven track record of needing an entire season to do just one route.
And while there’s nothing better than going on a climbing trip, there’s nothing worse than going on a climbing trip with a partner who sucks. A bad climbing partner can ruin everything! I’m a pretty friendly, open-minded guy. I’ll climb with just about anyone—I don’t care who he is or what he does or how hard he climbs. Just don’t be a dick, and we’ll get along. But I’ve gone on trips with certain climbing partners who have actually made me want to quit climbing altogether, which is a little like making the Pope want to give up Catholicism or my mom’s old cat give up peeing on me when I’m sleeping (he loved that). I would’ve preferred climbing with Hitler than some of these people—and even though that’s not true, it felt that way when I was in the trenches.
Anyone who can make something you truly and dearly love feel like torture (an experience I also have, strangely enough, while reading the rosy prose that we call mountaineering “literature” … only 10 times worse) has to have been sent from Hell with the purposeful mission of ruining your vacation, right?
It’s almost too perfect, too well planned. It’s almost as if his trip itinerary looks something like this:
Day 1: Forget harness at car. Don’t mention this until He [aka, Me … Andrew Bisharat!—Ed. (also me)] is tied in and racked up. Stand around apologizing profusely while still not going back to car to get harness. After getting harness and belaying him on first hard route of day, make sure he falls twice as far as he should. When he pulls up on rope to regain highpoint, don’t help him at all. Also, lower him at really erratic speeds.
Day 2: Start being really competitive with everything: climbing, who knows more things, etc. Be overly pedantic when talking to him about things you know he knows. “Scotch has to come from Scotland—otherwise it’s not Scotch. I know my single malts preeeettty well. Lagavulin 16 year is a great one. You really need to try it. Maybe one day you’ll get to.” That sort of thing.
Day 3: Injure yourself. Roll your ankle on the approach. Then make your injury his injury. “Oh, we can’t go to that crag that you really want to go to today. I don’t think my ankle could make it there.”
Day 4: Rest day! Research a wholelistic naturopath that’s four hours away. Visit (he drives) naturopath to fix up ankle. Make sure naturopath is also closed.
Day 5: Insist on only toproping, hang on every hard move, and then dismiss the route as being “Just OK.” Once on the ground, talk about your wildly outrageous climbing goals you don’t have a shot in Hell of ever doing. “Next season, I’d like to free El Cap. I could use a belayer. What are your plans?”
Day 6: Decide, for no reason whatsoever, to start mouth breathing and slurping your food as if everything you eat is hot soup. Chew loudly with mouth open. While he climbs, just stare at his back and say over and over in your head, “I hope you fall, you motherfucker.”
Day 7: Mysteriously forget and/or possibly lose chalkbag. Use his. Then, spend 1.5 hours toproping project. Tick up every single hold. Then don’t ever get back on route. Say you’re saving that one for next time you come back to the area, which in all likelihood will be never.
Day 8: Continue scorching his eyeballs with your headlamp when you talk to him at night. Don’t do the dishes.
Day 9: While cleaning on toprope, get one of his cams stuck. Really jam that sucker in there so it’ll never, ever come out. Be really condescending about it, like it’s his fault. “Why’d you place that number 3 in a number 2 crack?”
Day 10: Right when it looks like he’s finally about to send something, just sit down on the rope and pull him off the wall. You swore you heard him say, “Take.” Honest.
,笑倒我也……。 |