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"and that includes all those dirtbag climbers going up el capitan ..."
Another old story. I was walking around on the top of El Capitan one evening, and I was camped about a mile away. As I am standing there near the edge, these two dirtbag climbers came dragging up from the face. They each had huge haul bags, I am guessing 70 pounds each. One guy's hand was all gashed open with dried blood all over him.
I'm kind of standing there and staring, and they dragged up and slumped down on the ground to talk. They hadn't talked to anybody for five or six days that they had been on the face. The one guy had cut his own hand with his own knife, and it was so bad that explained why they were a day or two late to top out. All of my first aid kit was back in my camp, so I couldn't offer them anything except for clean water. It was about 8:30 p.m.
Then they asked me which way the trail was to head back down into Yosemite Valley. I pointed them in the right direction [What if I hadn't been there?] and told them where they would find the next stream that way. The guy with the cut hand felt like he had an infection going in the cut hand, so his buddy got to carry more than the lion's share of the heavy haul bags. I couldn't figure out where they were heading to by starting at that hour of the evening. They said that they had to hoof it down to the Valley that night, because their ride home was leaving there first thing in the morning.
I asked them if they had headlamps. They said they did, but that they had used up the batteries while on the face. So, off they went.
Dirtbag climbers shooting for the Darwin Award?
--B.G.--
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