Lost Alpinistas and the big Bud Light

The big day finally arrived! Unfortunately, I was going to be a little late. Oh well, he lived close! I pulled up in front of Stacy and Dorraine's beautiful new home and got really excited! An enormous boulder sat right in the driveway, and I could see big boulders on the right side of the house! This was going to be fun!!

Sometime after 3pm, Richard, Patsy, Eli, David, Jim, Donna, Stacy and I set out, or rather, up. You see, Stacy's hill was about the size of Mount Everest, or maybe half that size, but still, considerably larger than a hill.

Stacy had cut a path - with a chainsaw - at the bottom of this hill, then invited us over to help trample it down. The term bushwhacking comes to mind when I recall the approach. All said and done, though, we reached Stacy's Peak shortly before sunset. Moments later we heard voices and saw the shrubbery rumbling about as Jane and Curtis made their way... and after them, Peter and Jessica did the same. All present and accounted for. Thus begin all the best adventures!

Jane and Curtis went for a top rope on the side of Stacy's Peak. Peter, Patsy and Jessica went to Bushwhack Crack, the rock on the main trail, while Stacy, Eli, Richard, David, Jim, Donna and I waited to do Stacy's Peak.

While Eli lead Stacy's Peak, the rest of the party ducked for cover. Virgin territory has its disadvantages. Once a top rope was set up, I tied in and prepared to go. "Watch the rope on that top flake, or you'll be free-soloing", shouted Eli. I was cautioned. But up I went, pulling off all the "good" holds while using an assortment of four letter words. Almost over the crux, I ventured a look around the corner of that top flake, seeking ANYTHING to hold. What I saw instead, though, left me paralyzed with fear for a few minutes (or six!). Frayed rope ... how I wished it was only the "frayed knot" from Curtis's jokes. After a little conversation with the guys, it looked like the rope would hold me until I got back on solid ground. Arms now pumped to the max, I asked to be lowered (and said a small prayer!). As my feet said "hello" to the deck, the sun said "goodbye" to the Alpinistas!

We weren't too upset by dark, though. After all, we're Alpinistas and we've seen a few dark descents in our time! And besides, Jim and Donna had generously offered to sandwich us between them, since they had lights - and it would only cost us 50¢ each!

The conversation was lively as we made our way back down the trail, our headlamps and flashlights bobbing a path down the hillside. Our own noise was soon replaced with that of a large helicopter, though. The chopper circled a few times, searching the darkness with its powerful floodlights, before settling in and shining it's floodlights right on our path. Don't misunderstand me ... the light was a welcome torch in the darkness, but at times it was downright blinding! We waved at the chopper pilot and even joked about it being there. Looking down the "hill" we could see cars and people starting to mull about Stacy's. What was going on? Was someone lost? Hurt? What was all the excitement? The chopper moved as we did. Were we in trouble? Was the poison oak that Stacy had cut down protected? Were we going to be arrested, or worse, would it cost us for this light? Could this be the 50¢ light? Cool!

The vanguard arrived safely back at Stacy's and had the pleasure of explaining to the occupants of the two Sheriff's cars, the search & rescue van (with the S&R dog) and about fifty of Stacy and Dorraine's neighbors that we were not the LosT Alpinistas !

The last of us just waved and shouted up at the chopper, "We said BUD Light, BUD Light ... not Flood Light !!"

After the excitement had died down a bit, we BBQ'ed and relived the adventures for Cathrine, Dorraine, Colin and Irina.

So, when Stacy invites you over to climb, remember what Nancy Reagan taught us, and just say NO!