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2) Fuck All That Hardman Bullshit.
My first Pipeline adventure was a tapeless, ankle grinding
tour of hairy-chested destruction. Creating a tape cocoon for
my tender skin on the second ascent allowed me to concentrate,
instead, on rapidly my shoe was coming apart (I was startled
to discover that rubber sticks to granite infinitely better than
low grade, faded green suede). The Chicken wing can be delightful, if you are adequately
protected. After my first trip up Pipeline, I was quite impressed
with the road rash on the back of my arm (so much so that I went
home and took a photo directly). Had this been the extent of
my injury, I would have happily donned my t-shirt and done it
again. What is NOT pictured here is the gaping hole that Pipeline
produced in my back, just above the shoulder blade. It was a
nasty, weepy puss-hole that stained every goddamn pillow, bed
sheet, and shirt that I own. I toyed with several ideas for future protection. Neoprene
sleeves and thick shirts seemed a bit too bulky. I briefly entertained
the notion of butchering a diving suit into some retarded sling-thing
that would cross my shoulder and cover my arm. I even had the
great fortune of finding these very same diving suits ON SALE
for $30 at the local diving shoppe. In the end, I settled for
half a roll of tape and a slim turtleneck, meeting with great
success.
Anyway. I'm sure all the hardmen out there would shake their
head at the thought of using a whole roll of tape in a single
ascent of any route. Fortunately, I didn't have to push my way
through a crowd of hardmen to reach the base of the route. |