[at-l] Re: Oingo and Boingo, was at-l] The debate,

[janl2 at mindspring.com (Jan Leitschuh)]

>  rcli4@comcast.net wrote: 
>>>Oingo and Boingo, as you call them, have probably hiked more miles
>>>then most people on this list. You might want to sit and ask them
>>>questions about how it is done, most likely  they could teach most of
>>>us something.  I know they helped me finish the long trail.  I would
>>>sometimes sit and think "This is just to damn hard," Then I would
>>>think "Man Sloetoe,s kids done this, I can too."  They are among the
>>>very few humans I have a great deal of respect for.  Role models come
>>>in all sizes.  These kids are two of mine.

>> 
>> Clyde,
>> Toey and I are old (well, middle-aged) friends. I love his sons. They are
>> fantastic.


Ah, the medium of the internet...

Actually, when you get to know THEE Clyde, you'll see he wasn't taking 
it personally but using your comment as a springboard to compliment 
the boys on their hiking skills and experience. Like the author 
perhaps, the comment was a little rough around the edges with a good, 
solid core.
;-)

I used the same "kid-remembering" technique, when the Long Trail made 
us beg. ( It was both our first long hikes of any time and distance).

  Actually, we most certainly made it harder than it needed to be by 
driving our middle-aged knees and unfit selves along a work-ethic 
schedule, in the droughty heat. In any case, after living the 
experience, it was hard not to respect two young kids (for they were 
9-ish then) who had hiked the same ground.

Here is a taste of the terrain, from my '02 Long trail journal. We 
were climbing the compelling Mt. Manfield:


"These are rocky, high trails. We bypassed the foul-weather route a 
while back, and are attempting the infamous Forehead, with it's 
stomach-turning drop-offs and ledges.

"Empty the side pockets of your pack," advise the guidebooks. "Tight 
squeezes ahead."

After a few tight, tight squeezes in high, high places, we climbed a 
tall ladder only to confront the Mother of All High/Tight Squeezes: a 
narrow cliffside cleft of rock to squeeze along or a gap/hop over a 
drop-off into space: your choice.

THIS is a Trail? Aren't there LAWS about these things?

"I didn't know I had a fear of heights until I got up here," said 
Clyde sincerely. "I didn't know it would be dangerous."

After pondering the situation for awhile, from all angles, we decide 
to take off our packs, go singly, and pass the packs across the void. 
Anything dropped here, including us, will be gone - forever. Clyde 
wedges himself into the cleft of rock and shimmies across, back to the 
mountain. I try the higher route, hopping the void. Both work, 
packless, since we have better control of our centers of gravity.

We laugh with relief on the other side. Ha! Piece of cake! Ha! Ha!

"I was squeezed in tighter than a June bride in a feather bed," said 
Clyde, with the giddiness of a survivor.

"Yeah, and you weren't thinking about the IRS or your cash flow, were 
you?" I tease my Type A, hard-driving partner. "That's being in the 
moment, eh?"

"If I fall off here," he says, "the IRS can have anything that's 
left." Ha! Ha!"
;-)

And here is another "agog/aghast" impression from later that same day, 
descending Tha Mutha Mansfield. Bear in mind, I hadn't yet climbed the 
Whites. But still... Mansfield and Appalachia Gap can hold  their own 
with Wildcat, the Kinsmans and Katahdin.

Later that same day:

"We continue this ongoing broadcast of "The Jan and Clyde Show LIVE 
from Mount Mansfield," but first a word from our Sponsor, Traction.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, without Traction, the Jan and Clyde Show 
would be flying through empty space before deconstructing itself back 
into the molecular components from whence it came. Thank you for your 
support."

Yes, we came down two very slick, butt-sliding little washes. Alpine 
rock slides, they were. They looked almost like creek sluiceway stood 
on angle, so shiny and smooth. No problem, except they ended in blue 
sky. Wide open spaces. No nanny to catch me at the bottom of the slide.

Given the pitch of the slide, I doubted the ability of my Montrails to 
grab enough ground to keep me hurtling off the lip at the bottom, and 
off the edge of the world. Rubber on stone. Was it enough? Would it hold?

As it happened, it was, and it did - suspense over, were you worried? 
- but it was clear that, in a rain, that little stretch on the 
backside of Mansfield would be non-negotiable.
And how would one ascend? The mind boggles.

T'was as vulnerable a moment as I've felt yet in a lifetime knocking 
around mountains. Nothing but traction between me and a hurtle.

My dear friend, Mr. T. I am grateful for his patronage."


  Here is Clyde's version:

"This is turning out to be a great day. The assent is steep but not 
difficult."
;-)
Isn't that great? That's SO MAFMan.

And guess what made the greatest impression on him later that day? 
(hint: it wasn't traction):

"On the way up a woman with two dogs passed us. She has the 
best-looking body of any woman I have ever seen. She is muscular 
without being manlike. Her voice is feminine and pleasant. I generally 
don't pay much attention to people's physical attributes but this 
woman was perfect. She said she climbed this mountain nearly every 
day. I am sure she done more than just that. She looked like she lived 
in the gym. Even Jan remarked on her physique."
> http://www.trailjournals.com/entry.cfm?id=35757


;-)
Is it any wonder why this crazy family of hikers continues to meet at 
Rucks, Gatherings, internet, Trail Days, deck-raisings, etc in between 
hikes?

As Zorba the Greek said it's "the full catastrophe!"
Here's to "full catastrophe living!"

FullCatastroShoe

PS From Jon Kabat-Zinn's book: "I keep coming back to one line from 
the movie of Nikos Kazantzakis's novel Zorba the Greek. Zorba's young 
companion turns to him at a certain point and inquires, 'Zorba, have 
you ever been married?' to which Zorba replies (paraphrasing somewhat) 
'Am I not a man? Of course I've been married. Wife, house, kids, 
everything . . . the full catastrophe!'

"It was not meant to be a lament, nor does it mean that being married 
or having children is a catastrophe. Zorba's response embodies a 
supreme appreciation for the richness of life and the inevitability of 
all its dilemmas, sorrows, tragedies and ironies. His way is to 
'dance' in the gale of the full catastrophe, to celebrate life, to 
laugh with it and at himself, even in the face of personal failure and 
defeat. In doing so, he is never weighed down for long, never 
ultimately defeated either by the world or by his own considerable folly."

Worth repeating: "...or by his own considerable folly."
;-)