I can't believe it.
I have been kicked in the nuts. I can't hold them back.
It is 1998. I am in Camp 4, now known as Sunnyside in Yosemite National Park. It is about 11 p.m. on a moonless night. I sit on a picnic table eating fig bars and drinking beers. Suddenly the fig bars are gone. A raccoon scurries away with its prize, my snack. I give chase and take them back. Five minutes later, one foot to my left the raccoon appears, grabs the bag of fig newtons and once again makes for the forest. This time I am enraged. I grab a golf ball sized rock and throw it and from 35 feet smack it right in the head with a loud crack sound. Pure luck. I get my snack back and lay down in my tent. Suddenly a golf cart comes ripping through camp, running through clothes lines, knocking over garbage cans and making hell for the back side of Camp four. I get out of my tent in time to see two men in the golf cart, one has his fist raised and a bottle of jack in the other, blond hair streaming, howling like a loon.
I hear from another tent, " Bachars back. "
The rangers came to every goddamned tent wanting to know who the fuck stole the maintenance cart. This went on until 2 A.M. when I finally sleep. It is hot, and my head is outside the tent, my body outside the sleeping bag.
I awake to a sound like a demon alien.
The raccoon is back, two feet from my face, hissing and screaming...
John came through the next morning and said ' sorry about that, thanks for keeping mum. '
Jesus wept.
John Bachar was simply the greatest and best climber of my generation.
Perhaps ever.
He didn't just push the limits, he established them.
If you are ever in Joshua Tree find Bacher Cracker of the Desert. At no point is your body any more than three feet off the ground. If you can hold on and make five feet of movement I will give you a one hundred dollar bill. Ban if I lie.
His routes are legend. The Bachar-Yerian is to this day a feat of amazing accomplishment, established in 1981. Climb it and there is good odds you will end up in a magazine.
I have had the blessing of meeting and even climbing with many famous and legendary climbers. I climbed with Randy Leavits and Bob Camps. I socialized with Ron Kauk and Jim Bridwell, and met Lynn Hill and Greg Childs, but there was only one John Bachar.
Rest in peace, my brother. You know you were a huge inspiration to many. Many men have a life, but not every man truly lives.
A modern day pirate, he lived free and died fast.
Thank you sir.
http://climbing.about.com/b/2009/07/06/ … g-fall.htm
http://vimeo.com/5483898
I have been kicked in the nuts. I can't hold them back.
It is 1998. I am in Camp 4, now known as Sunnyside in Yosemite National Park. It is about 11 p.m. on a moonless night. I sit on a picnic table eating fig bars and drinking beers. Suddenly the fig bars are gone. A raccoon scurries away with its prize, my snack. I give chase and take them back. Five minutes later, one foot to my left the raccoon appears, grabs the bag of fig newtons and once again makes for the forest. This time I am enraged. I grab a golf ball sized rock and throw it and from 35 feet smack it right in the head with a loud crack sound. Pure luck. I get my snack back and lay down in my tent. Suddenly a golf cart comes ripping through camp, running through clothes lines, knocking over garbage cans and making hell for the back side of Camp four. I get out of my tent in time to see two men in the golf cart, one has his fist raised and a bottle of jack in the other, blond hair streaming, howling like a loon.
I hear from another tent, " Bachars back. "
The rangers came to every goddamned tent wanting to know who the fuck stole the maintenance cart. This went on until 2 A.M. when I finally sleep. It is hot, and my head is outside the tent, my body outside the sleeping bag.
I awake to a sound like a demon alien.
The raccoon is back, two feet from my face, hissing and screaming...
John came through the next morning and said ' sorry about that, thanks for keeping mum. '
Jesus wept.
John Bachar was simply the greatest and best climber of my generation.
Perhaps ever.
He didn't just push the limits, he established them.
If you are ever in Joshua Tree find Bacher Cracker of the Desert. At no point is your body any more than three feet off the ground. If you can hold on and make five feet of movement I will give you a one hundred dollar bill. Ban if I lie.
His routes are legend. The Bachar-Yerian is to this day a feat of amazing accomplishment, established in 1981. Climb it and there is good odds you will end up in a magazine.
I have had the blessing of meeting and even climbing with many famous and legendary climbers. I climbed with Randy Leavits and Bob Camps. I socialized with Ron Kauk and Jim Bridwell, and met Lynn Hill and Greg Childs, but there was only one John Bachar.
Rest in peace, my brother. You know you were a huge inspiration to many. Many men have a life, but not every man truly lives.
A modern day pirate, he lived free and died fast.
Thank you sir.
http://climbing.about.com/b/2009/07/06/ … g-fall.htm
http://vimeo.com/5483898