CoreyTMorine
User Formerly known as BlueSpruce
I was just searching for a guys name and ended up in the ISA Archives, where upon i found this old post.
Misplaced messages?
[email protected]
Thu, 5 Mar 1998 22:22:35 -0600
Messages sorted by: [ date ][ thread ][ subject ][ author ]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So I get home from work, grab a beer and hop in the shower.
After a thorough, pitch cleansing, clean up, I grab another
coupla beers and procede to do some serious web surfing.
Well, I come across this sight and discover, to my mushy
brained deelight, some old time tree climbers talkin about
the biz. I, having no idea that the scope of this sight goes
wayyyy beyond a couple of old treeclimbers, procede to
enscribe a very muddled account of an "interesting" moment
in my own treeclimbin life, and some bleary questions that
seemed good to ask. (is that a run on sent?
Anyway, I
have since cleaned up that story, and present it here
because 1) I think it came out pretty damned well,
and 2) in the hopes that i will not be remembered as a mushy
brained treeclimber.
thanks Tom.
"A brief moment in time"
Or how I nearly bought a man a roof.
The crows always laugh at my foolish attempts;
CAWCAW Caawww. Mocking my slavery to "down".That is the
controlling force here, always pulling, beckoning. The
harness bites into my leg, -push off, grab limb,plantfoot-
the weight shifts to my foot and hand, but "down" is still
here, Waiting. The next cut is below my feet -rest on
harness,let go,push up with foot- the blood rushes to my
head.
The saw has always been somewhat of a mystery to me.
All other things are personified; the truck is like an old
horse, the rope is freedom, the harness safety. The saw
however gives no impression, it is empty.
Hnnnndadaaaddaa....Hnnnnnnnda, it chatters on, cutting into
the thick limb. There is a snap, the branch falls, tip
first, down. It lands like a spring, compressing itself,
then bouncing to where the bottom is perhaps 15 feet out
from the base of the tree. Plenty of room.
-Push off with foot,reach up with hand- Plastic wrapper
crinkling as it slides out of my shirt pocket. I look down
just in time -drop saw,lunge- the saw jerks its safety line,
the Kudos bar falls into my hand. Wheew, thats my snack.
Its strange what happens when a person is scared for a
while; it plays havooc with your blood sugar. Sugar seems
to balance the fear, the more frightened you are the more
sugar you need/use. If you should happen to run out of
sugar? Well then things get ugly. Palms begin to sweat,
can't hold onto anything, you shake and break a sweat,
vertigo is much more likely to hit, and your sure the next
time you swing out the rope is going to break. So I tuck
the food safely back into my shirt and button the pocket .
Still here? Right on, this is a fun part. Theres some
branches about 30 feet down from here. To get down there we
-push off hard with feet, let out rope fast, look down- the
ground blurs as we fly out over it. The air is cool as it
moves across my face. Freeee,Waahooo. Our flight is a steady
orbit around the tree, falling/flying gracefully downwards.
Here come the branches -tighten up the rope, brace feet-
our course moves inward, towards the tree. -Feet contact,
bend legs,slow,stop- Ha, the crows seem to have quieted.
We make quick work of the branches. The only thing
left is the top, easy stuff. Climbing a limbed tree is kind
of a pain, with no branches to hold onto you have to grab
the trunk, which is too big to get a good hold on. No
worries though, the rope is already up there, just keep
taking it in as we go and there's only a few feet to fall.
Set your spikes hard -left foot, in. right foot up and in,
take in rope, move hands up. Left foot, right foot, take in
rope, move hands....- The 40 feet goes pretty quick.
I love it up here, the sky open and empty, nothing
crowding in. City buildings off in the background blue and
small and two dimensional, a blured haze around the hills a
long way off. A speck, that must be a bird, moves off in
the distance, this is what he feels.
Loop the waist belt around the tree, and clip it in
to your saddle. Then make sure your spikes are set evenly so
you don't sway. O.K. I always get a bit nervous here, the
top is the most dangerous part. The thing that always sticks
in my head is the idea of the top rolling into my saddle
after its been cut. I don't even think it could happen, but
still I can't get that image out of my head. Back to work:
A good 35 feet to the house, I'll drop it towards the back
and have plenty of room to spare. Wind is negligable, lean
looks good, right. Hnnnnddadaddahnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnndadadada.
The notch falls out of sight in the brush below. Damn, the
cleft is aimed a bit to close to the house. Hnnnnnddddhnnda.
There, that should work. Hnnnnnnnnnnndadadahnnnnnnnndndnnnn.
The saw rips through the back of the tree in a few quick
seconds. Its starting to go, good, take a bit more off of
the hinge. Hnnnnhnnd. WIND! ????! Noooo, don't come this
way, -drop the saw, push the top- OHMYGOD................
Its funny, when something like that happens, there is
this brief instant that I have no recollection of.When my
brain does come back online it is not working like it was a
second ago. For instance, there are no sounds, only colors.
Colors so bright and vibrant they seem to peel back from
whatever object they happen to be covering, revealing a
shimering, silver lining beneath. Also everything slows way
down, like we are living in a thick, clear fluid. The top is
suspended in air off to our right and down a little bit. In
front of us is the trunk, like a rough hewn dinner plate.
Already the sap is starting to beed up along the cambium
layer. The top has moved a little bit farther down, its
almost horizontal now, falling outward in a perfect
parabola. It occurs to me that the top, as a frame of
reference for Newtonian mechanics, is completely useless.
Because it is in freefall. There is sawdust all over me,
like my clothes developed an acute case of the measles.
Well the top has fallen a little farther now, how many
shingles are on that roof anyway. I wonder this because the
top is perfectly transposed over the roof, apparently
heading straight for it!!! Please god, not the house. Don't
let that monster fall through this mans roof. Things speed
up a little bit now, the top falling away from us, becoming
smaller and smaller. Like a film from the spaceshuttle, a
sattelite released into a black sky, the only evidence of
motion being its steadily diminishing proportions.
I don't remember when I knew the top was going to miss the
house. There was no instant relief, no moment when the
preasure suddenly vented Anyway, the top is now on the
ground. The only evidence of this near disaster is the tip
of a branch, which somehow did land on the roof. I'm
shaking like an poplar leaf, my palms are all sweaty, and
its difficult to hold on to anything. The ground is suddenly
very far away. Damn, did I secure that rope well enough?
Where is that Kudos anyhow?
Misplaced messages?
[email protected]
Thu, 5 Mar 1998 22:22:35 -0600
Messages sorted by: [ date ][ thread ][ subject ][ author ]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So I get home from work, grab a beer and hop in the shower.
After a thorough, pitch cleansing, clean up, I grab another
coupla beers and procede to do some serious web surfing.
Well, I come across this sight and discover, to my mushy
brained deelight, some old time tree climbers talkin about
the biz. I, having no idea that the scope of this sight goes
wayyyy beyond a couple of old treeclimbers, procede to
enscribe a very muddled account of an "interesting" moment
in my own treeclimbin life, and some bleary questions that
seemed good to ask. (is that a run on sent?
Anyway, I have since cleaned up that story, and present it here
because 1) I think it came out pretty damned well,
and 2) in the hopes that i will not be remembered as a mushy
brained treeclimber.
thanks Tom.
"A brief moment in time"
Or how I nearly bought a man a roof.
The crows always laugh at my foolish attempts;
CAWCAW Caawww. Mocking my slavery to "down".That is the
controlling force here, always pulling, beckoning. The
harness bites into my leg, -push off, grab limb,plantfoot-
the weight shifts to my foot and hand, but "down" is still
here, Waiting. The next cut is below my feet -rest on
harness,let go,push up with foot- the blood rushes to my
head.
The saw has always been somewhat of a mystery to me.
All other things are personified; the truck is like an old
horse, the rope is freedom, the harness safety. The saw
however gives no impression, it is empty.
Hnnnndadaaaddaa....Hnnnnnnnda, it chatters on, cutting into
the thick limb. There is a snap, the branch falls, tip
first, down. It lands like a spring, compressing itself,
then bouncing to where the bottom is perhaps 15 feet out
from the base of the tree. Plenty of room.
-Push off with foot,reach up with hand- Plastic wrapper
crinkling as it slides out of my shirt pocket. I look down
just in time -drop saw,lunge- the saw jerks its safety line,
the Kudos bar falls into my hand. Wheew, thats my snack.
Its strange what happens when a person is scared for a
while; it plays havooc with your blood sugar. Sugar seems
to balance the fear, the more frightened you are the more
sugar you need/use. If you should happen to run out of
sugar? Well then things get ugly. Palms begin to sweat,
can't hold onto anything, you shake and break a sweat,
vertigo is much more likely to hit, and your sure the next
time you swing out the rope is going to break. So I tuck
the food safely back into my shirt and button the pocket .
Still here? Right on, this is a fun part. Theres some
branches about 30 feet down from here. To get down there we
-push off hard with feet, let out rope fast, look down- the
ground blurs as we fly out over it. The air is cool as it
moves across my face. Freeee,Waahooo. Our flight is a steady
orbit around the tree, falling/flying gracefully downwards.
Here come the branches -tighten up the rope, brace feet-
our course moves inward, towards the tree. -Feet contact,
bend legs,slow,stop- Ha, the crows seem to have quieted.
We make quick work of the branches. The only thing
left is the top, easy stuff. Climbing a limbed tree is kind
of a pain, with no branches to hold onto you have to grab
the trunk, which is too big to get a good hold on. No
worries though, the rope is already up there, just keep
taking it in as we go and there's only a few feet to fall.
Set your spikes hard -left foot, in. right foot up and in,
take in rope, move hands up. Left foot, right foot, take in
rope, move hands....- The 40 feet goes pretty quick.
I love it up here, the sky open and empty, nothing
crowding in. City buildings off in the background blue and
small and two dimensional, a blured haze around the hills a
long way off. A speck, that must be a bird, moves off in
the distance, this is what he feels.
Loop the waist belt around the tree, and clip it in
to your saddle. Then make sure your spikes are set evenly so
you don't sway. O.K. I always get a bit nervous here, the
top is the most dangerous part. The thing that always sticks
in my head is the idea of the top rolling into my saddle
after its been cut. I don't even think it could happen, but
still I can't get that image out of my head. Back to work:
A good 35 feet to the house, I'll drop it towards the back
and have plenty of room to spare. Wind is negligable, lean
looks good, right. Hnnnnddadaddahnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnndadadada.
The notch falls out of sight in the brush below. Damn, the
cleft is aimed a bit to close to the house. Hnnnnnddddhnnda.
There, that should work. Hnnnnnnnnnnndadadahnnnnnnnndndnnnn.
The saw rips through the back of the tree in a few quick
seconds. Its starting to go, good, take a bit more off of
the hinge. Hnnnnhnnd. WIND! ????! Noooo, don't come this
way, -drop the saw, push the top- OHMYGOD................
Its funny, when something like that happens, there is
this brief instant that I have no recollection of.When my
brain does come back online it is not working like it was a
second ago. For instance, there are no sounds, only colors.
Colors so bright and vibrant they seem to peel back from
whatever object they happen to be covering, revealing a
shimering, silver lining beneath. Also everything slows way
down, like we are living in a thick, clear fluid. The top is
suspended in air off to our right and down a little bit. In
front of us is the trunk, like a rough hewn dinner plate.
Already the sap is starting to beed up along the cambium
layer. The top has moved a little bit farther down, its
almost horizontal now, falling outward in a perfect
parabola. It occurs to me that the top, as a frame of
reference for Newtonian mechanics, is completely useless.
Because it is in freefall. There is sawdust all over me,
like my clothes developed an acute case of the measles.
Well the top has fallen a little farther now, how many
shingles are on that roof anyway. I wonder this because the
top is perfectly transposed over the roof, apparently
heading straight for it!!! Please god, not the house. Don't
let that monster fall through this mans roof. Things speed
up a little bit now, the top falling away from us, becoming
smaller and smaller. Like a film from the spaceshuttle, a
sattelite released into a black sky, the only evidence of
motion being its steadily diminishing proportions.
I don't remember when I knew the top was going to miss the
house. There was no instant relief, no moment when the
preasure suddenly vented Anyway, the top is now on the
ground. The only evidence of this near disaster is the tip
of a branch, which somehow did land on the roof. I'm
shaking like an poplar leaf, my palms are all sweaty, and
its difficult to hold on to anything. The ground is suddenly
very far away. Damn, did I secure that rope well enough?
Where is that Kudos anyhow?
Last edited:
