It’s a sign of spring I suppose, this flurry of glee tossed on the tiny tibloc. If one uses one’s imagination, then one can possibly divine that “some” feel an adequate comfort level with the device. And those in the tibloc camp can also hopefully conjure that others may have little like for those “dastardly” gadgets.
If person A finds them likeable, and person B, NOT, then the uniniated can try the tibloc for themselves and either join the device into their canyon quiver, OR NOT.
One dark day a few years back I got to go down and then up and then down and then up on some unplanned ascents. In my quiver were some tiblocs, ropeman’s and some other gagets. Rescue systems are one thing, handy pothole grabbing another and (effective and efficient) straight up ascending for more than a few feet, quite another.
In my universe of “unplanned” general ascents I’ve found the tibloc is no longer a tool of choice. Always, I carry a Petzl Croll, and either a “ridged” ropeman or a ushba “upper” ascender. If I know I’m going to be in potholes, or wish to practice in rescue mode I may use other devices. The ropeman is carried inside my pack in an effort to minimize sand inflitration and damage.
After watching Hank, a few years back, I evolved to a caving harness system for planned ascents. The planned ascents have totally reshaped my view on unplanned climbs that I ocassionally still have to make. (Made three in two days last spring with a crew of ten willy teens.) A quick set up, with an easy NO SLIP stroke that I don’t have to watch each time I “step up” is a necessity for me. Proper set up, safety and efficiency – along with threshold strength and energy – are the keys to climbing a rope in a canyoneering setting.
Sounds like the tibloc is the cat’s meow for some. I can accept that. Hopefully some of you can also understand and accept that some of us wish to live in a tibloc free mode.
But then I guesss it depends on whose context, whose universe, whose experience, whose background, and whose point of view is being offered.
If you “like” the 5-10’s use and wear them, if not, then don’t and the next time someone tells me I can’t correctly canyoneer without the 5-10 canyoneer well then I’ll tell them by golly, I better swallow another tibloc and try and jump into that shoe – so I can conform of course to the “correct point of view.”
Yes, Speaking of views – North Wash, dark skies, thunder, rain, rain, rain, delay, and more delay, and then drive/march off in the pitter patter “to do a canyon.” This past weekend was memorable. Thanks to so many of you.
Nightly, fires, owls, barking frogs, the Irish Man in the Sky, Mercury ablaze and then in our final hours of the weekend in tight canyon, a magic paper thin curtain of sand falling on 8 of us, off an 80 ft. tight wall, this as we concluded a tight dark corridor – the thin ribbon of light captured the event – that lasted some 20 seconds and then as soon as it started, it concluded. The gravity that pulls us to the desert and canyon corridors, magic abounds.
Hank, Matt, Ryan, Jim, Kristina, Rick, Carol, Dave, Zack – the rookie canyoneer medical students I was with – oh the crowd at north wash was enormous – 5-6 BIG groups – but we all fit into the natural scheme of things, especially when the Mountain Club crew’s snoring matched the hoots and barking frogs. There are many fine folk in the canyoneering community and in that bunch there are plenty of points of view; ropes, shoes, bags, ascenders, and oh, even aaron ralston.
But Hank, thank goodness for those frogs, for in all their sitting, squatting and snorting, they likey had more insight that I, as I sat at the still fire late saturday nite – the banter on gear and talk of conquest – and then another frog and contemplation of nature and natural wonders. Thanks for the walk bud, away from the fire, away from the five tens, and talk of gear; look, Mercury a million stars, and bleep, another barking frog, whose sound was really in context, in my universe, on that magical night in the desert. Hey, Maybe next time (as to gear) I’m “directed” about, I could swallow, well, a frog?