Dd0g

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  • Home DZ
    backcountry
  • Licensing Organization
    myself
  • First Choice Discipline
    BASE Jumping

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  1. Dd0g

    Bovine BASE

    At least I now understand what purpose those sheds, empty in summer, serve in BASE paradise. Peace, D-d0g +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  2. Dd0g

    in memory of Josh

    Today, with a beautiful winter day and thoughts of many lost friends still alive in my soul, I opened a new exit (nearest town Winthrop, WA) in honor of Josh. A long and somewhat sketchy approach hike had me thinking that if Josh were along he`d be smiling all the way up. At exit, I imagined him jumping an E not far from his hometown, alone. That, too, made me smile and with that I stepped off. Good energy was in the air, and things all came together. A short hike back to my car, and I warmed up my old bones as my partner Rion wagged and smiled his inestimable joy. Here`s to you, Josh, and may you find happiness and comraderie wherever you have gone. There`s a pretty new E in the north of your former home state that stands as a little memento of your time here. I wish I could share it with you in person, but even though I can`t do that I can keep your memory and your smile in my heart and pass it forward to others that cross my path in life. For personal reasons, I`ve dubbed this exit the Frasierdog exit. . . without doubt, Josh would smile at that. Peace, D-d0g +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  3. Valhalla became stronger as another beautiful person leaves us behind. Josh was certainly one of the "good ones" in my corner of the world, and I feel fortunate that I shared some good times with him over the years. While I hadn't seen him in too many months, last week I was thinking of him as I camped out beneath an E that we'd done together previously. On that object, one week Josh had gone out to jump it solo - a bold move, I thought. Not only that, he'd exited a bit too strong and ended up spinning off a full front flip a a result! Calmly (according to him, anyway ), he allowed the rotation to continue through, opened on-heading, landed fine, and smiled about it. How many people would have shared that story with a "more senior" jumper and risked being judged or ridiculed? Josh simply though it was a great story and his smile as he told it sticks with me to this day. I had planned to call him last week, but left his number at home and figured "what's the rush, I'll call next week or sometime later." Life intervenes, and now I'll never have the privilege of sharing a beer with him. That is my loss, all of our loss. I certainly wasn't Josh's "best friend" or anything, but to me that's just not the point. The point for me is that Josh was a bright light that was out there living life. It's sad and tragic that he made the choice he did. . . that's a choice I've been nearby too much in my life already, even before Josh's decision. Why do the good ones follow that path, there's no justice in that no matter how you cut it. Fly free, Josh. You made the world a better place by your presence here. My four-legged family and I will say a word of goodbye for you this evening, and we'll wish you Godspeed as you continue your journey wherever it may lead you. Peace, D-d0g & Four-Legged Friends +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  4. Alas, the secret is out. Tom has never actually jumped off anything taller than a milk crate. . . the "jumps" others have seen were all staged using body doubles. I had hoped that Tom would end the charade years ago, but the deeper he got the harder it would be to call it off. Now, it's just gone careening wildly out of control and I don't think anybody is driving the bus. I remember, once, when Tom was playing along with his "jumping" story on a crane in Belgium. Not surprisingly, he wanted me to jump first so that his stunt double could rush out and "jump" for him after I landed. On a hunch, I offered to pin check him. Sure enough, once I popped the pin on his rig I noticed that the "canopy" inside was just a couple of high-threadcount cotton sheets. Left clutching the sheets as I flopped off the crane, his face was a pastiche of emotions. That reminds me of back when he and I used to sing in that barbershop quarted back in Skokie, but I digress. Having discovered his secret years ago, I've been in a favorable position to exert pressure on him to say what I want. This, surely, explains alot. In the end, though, does it really matter if Tom jumps or not? I mean, he's got an iPod full of Jimmy Buffett tunes and a hella cute car to boot. . . all the rest is tantamount to rounding error. Peace, D-d0g +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  5. Dd0g

    Quote of the day

    Subject: My new cult To: dj1313@hotmail.com, ddog@wrinko.com, yoda99@bigplanet.com X-Mailer: Lotus Notes Release 6.0 September 26, 2002 Message-ID: From: dwain.weston@boomvang.com Date: Fri, 17 Jan 2003 12:27:07 -0800 X-MIMETrack: Serialize by Router on PDX100/Servers/BVC(Release 6.0|September 26, 2002) at 01/17/2003 12:27:14 PM MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII The principals of Dwainism, for a happier, healthier you: Your Personal Mantra: (Chant 3 times daily while looking in the mirror) No Morals No Ethics No Conscience No Guilt Key Points to Remember: Having a conscience in life is like driving a car with the parking brake on. Q. What is the true definition of guilt? A. Fear of getting caught. Q. What is your sole purpose in life? A. To derive pleasure. +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  6. Dd0g

    Quote of the day

    Life, with its lessons, has taught me many things, but I find disheartening the fact that many questions we were asking ourselves in the mid-eighties have remained unanswered. Then, we deluded ourselves with the hope that the climbing world was about to start a new chapter. The reality was that after Renato's death, and once the shock was absorbed, mountaineeering circles continued on a different path as if nothing had happened. The fashion of concatenations and fast climbs allowed Renato's ascents to be forgotten quickly. Only now, years later, overcome by surprise, are young climbers beginning to realize the value of Renato's undertakings and trying to understand. - Roberto Mantovani (translated, from the Italian, by Alpinist magazine) Makes one think. . . at least, those of us (still) capable of thought. Peace, D-d0g +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  7. it's called being educated, big boy. . . you might want to try it someday. It's really fun! Sad that I know more about the legal system in your country than you do, and I don't even live there. No hidden agenda here. I disagreed with the argument you proposed in your initial post on the subject. I found your response to be laughably indicative of some major issues regarding sexuality that you seem to never tire of publicly fighting to bury within yourself, without much success. Hence, I engaged in what we call "satire" with respect to this issue. Look it up in the dictionary if that one eludes 'ya, Ray. All I hope is that you can get past this "angry denial" stage and come out of that dark, musty closet Ray. I still remember when you hit on me at Slim's bachelor party. . . and I'm not the only one!
  8. Don't stress about it, Jason. Ray knows full well the facts surrounding JV's blatant burning. Rather, Ray is just using the conversation as an excuse to indulge some of his gay fantasies via yet another rabid homophobic rant. . quelle surprise, as they say up here with less than a touch of irony. Ever wonder where all of Ray's homophobia-out-loud comes from? That's right - denial, Ray is in fact gay as a treeful of parrots. Gay as a three-dollar bill! Gay as a sky filled with fluffy, rainbow-colored clouds! Don't worry, Ray. . . someday you'll find a man who won't reject you, and then you can finally find peace. Until then, I hope your gay fantasy life is enough to sustain you. Peace, D-d0g ps: gay sodomy isn't illegal anywhere in America any more, Ray - the Supremes knocked the piss out of that one last year. So when you do find the gay lover of your dreams, bugger away to your heart's content without fear of jailtime big boy. +~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+ +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  9. Gosh, Ray, last time I jumped at TF with both Slim and Dwain they were fine with not jumping off the rail. Why? Well, a bit of fucking common sense I guess. And it seems to me that if DW could exhibit commonsense in this regard and avoid a pointless stick in the eye to "authority" in the process, it can't be so bloody hard can it? The local folks -and local jumpers - don't want folks going from the rail. So. . . don't. How fucking hard is that? Can't understand the connection, Ray? Need someone to spell it out for 'ya. . . ? The thing is, jumping off the rail is no more fun than jumping otherwise at TF (or doing the wild and super-duper rad "jump from the steel" bullshit that was never more than a silly waste of time given that the bridge is legal with nil approach. . . why in the world would one muck around underneath. . . there's always HS in WA if that's one's preference, though I suppose there's a bit more skill required to do that object than some other posters here could muster in a crisis; I even hear there's a few big bridges back East with genuinely fun steel for those with the skills to get there absent needless Drama). It's a bridge, over water. Where you launch from is pointless. Perhaps, Ray, if your "BASE career" has gone so downhill that the rebel thrill of Jumping the Rail at TF - WOO HOO CRAAAAZY! - is your current apex experience. . . well that speaks for itself now don't it. There's heaps of objects in the world with heaps of twitchy, funky, scary, cool exitpoints. TF isn't one of them. It's a bridge, a nice legal bridge that's great for learning aerials to boot. What the fuck difference does it make to eschew jumping from the goddamned rail? What, you need the extra 4 feet height so you can "smoke it in baby" and impress the newbies? Try some bolder jumping, perhaps, if that's your real goal. As for the misplaced "I am such a rebel" attitude, it does make me chuckle. It's just so entirely out of place. Perhaps this is mid-life crisis or something? In which case, why don't you buy a new car or something and leave the delicate TF situation alone. I don't even jump at TF anymore and haven't for years, but it's painfully fucking obvious to me that jumping from the rail is a stupid, selfish, pointless, gutless, pathetic thing to do nowadays given the social climate down there. So if the self-appointed Cool Kids are just Too Cool For School to stay off the fucking rail, here's a concrete suggestion: I'll show you half a dozen bridges in the PNW where you can jump from the rail. You might need some actual skills to survive the jumps, but the rail's all yours. And if you do these jumps and still walk without a limp, you'll earn my respect - grudging or otherwise. In the meantime, Ray, your petulant diatribe here simply reinforces how utterly idiotic the whole "argument" is. Don't. . . jump. . . the. . . rail. . . at. . . TF. Simple enough? Cheers mate, ds +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  10. Dd0g

    BASE 10000 . . .

    At this risk of sounding needlessly geeky, the 1000 landmark is relevant only insofar as we choose the arbitrary 10-space numerology as our foundational reference. Were we to count BASE numbers base-16, we'd have a different picture entirely. The most "important" BASE number is the one that means something special to a particular person at a particular time. There's a few that mean alot to me, and none of them have particular base-10 attributes worth noting. They did used to be attached to some pretty fucking cool human beings, however. I guess they always will be, at least for some of us. Peace, D-d0g +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  11. Surfer Boy would've gotten the irony for sure, and I'm experience this fragment of cosmic convergence through his eyes. I do wonder, what would old dear RH be saying if it was somebody else who displayed a similar case of mind-bogglingly poor judgment and execution at a public BASE event? Would he be less prone to rip into them if they were badly injured (or dead)? Nope, of course not. Oh, wait, he's been reborn as a nice guy nowadays. . . right. . . I'm just dating myself remembering all the horrible, cruel, manipulative, insensitive things he has done over many years. I should join in the group-hug and get with BASE 2004. Anyway, yeah, heal up and all that crap. You've still got a date with destiny so we'd hate to see you get off so easy. Luv and kisses from your old pal, can't wait to see you soon. . . Peace, D-d0g +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  12. Slim. . . what can really be said of Slim that everyone else doesn't already feel in their own heart? He made me laugh so hard, so many times. He jumped every object in Portland long before I ever held a BASE rig in my hand. He was the only person of whom I ever saw Dwain in abject awe when it came to playing the BASE game "hard." He freefell the St. John's under a Mojo, a bunch of times, before he figured out it was 20 feet lower than he thought which, as Dwain would say, "explained a bit the extremely short canopy rides and crashing landings." Video of Slim arcing off Crown, Slim's triple gainers from it, Slim's slider-up there (which even Dwain thought genuinely psycho), Slim's slider-up PCA from the bridge in WA. Slim's shadow over every dodgy object in Portland. . . I knew I was getting somewhere when I started opening objects that even Slim tought were too dodgy to jump. Slim, Dwain's comrade in arms long before I ever met either of them. Slim, a legend in my mind from all the stories told, who when I met him turned out to be the kindest and most genuine of sorts. I watched Slim crawl back from a life-ending accident, helped him over the railing (ok, let's be honest, I lifted him over. . . he weighed less than a bloody pigeon at that point in his recovery) at TF his first trip back. He coached me on arcing backflips that weekend, which I muffed once or twice (scariest aerial mistakes I've ever experienced), before he couldn't resist and there he was tearin' off backs with his fragile body. If I recall correctly, he spun off four that first day before opening low under a roundie. . . all grins, as usual. Slim, trying to order food at Taco Bell in his Australian English. . . laughing so hard I thought I'd split wide open. "Two kwesadilllllllas. . . " I'd ask Dwain how Slim was doing, after that, and he'd reply in that conspiratorial voice "oh, he's genuinely fucked, but you know Slim. . . he won't admit it and he's just going on as if he can recover even though he knows he can't." Who was going to tell him otherwise? Slim asking for advice on the business climate in Oregon. Slim, not the least bit surprised to find that I had an even fancier MBA than he did. . . just positive and energetic and happy to be around folks who were doing good stuff. Slim, telling stories of the politics at the office, the challenges that were always balanced with the sense of accomplishment, the folks there he didn't like so much. . . but always more about the folks he did like, and how he enjoyed to work, all in all. Slim's bachelor party, Slim's wedding with Douggs in full regalia. Slim dancing, Slim always there when everyone else needed him. Slim warning me to lay off the bandit jumps in Malaysia. . . and Slim laughing right along with me at how amazingly silly that very concept was coming from his mouth. Slim asking "how'd they go, last night" when Tom and I rolled into the morning jumps a few hours late, tired but full of smiles. Dwain helping to edit Slim's book of BASE history on his laptop while he and I drove all night to some dodgy object. . . reading the chapters out loud, expanding on the stories Slim was telling, pointing out the minor errors but always proud that Slim was willing and able to tell it like it was, as it really happened. Where did Slim's book go? Probably gone now, I mean who really wants to drudge up those old times nowadays. . . better to gloss over the sharp edges, remember "the past" as a Rockwell-esque patina of happy smiley folks who never had a care. Slim didn't buy into that crap, his book was brutally honest about all of us, himself included. Slim was one of the few folks who could tell Dwain when he was simply being a petulant ass and Dwain would listen and shape up. Slim was a leader without ever trying to be, an inspiration too busy with life to notice, and a legend long before he left us behind for good. Slim, there was nobody else like him. I haven't spoken a word to Slim since Dwain killed himself, but I knew that when the time was right he and I would sit down and sort it all out. He was Slim, see, and he had a way like that. Slim could've told me why everything was ok, why the world was still bright and beautiful, why it all made sense. I was counting on it, counting on Slim, as always. Nik, Lukas, Dwain, Slim. . . beautiful human beings, gone forever. Dwain said life is for the living. . . that's a much easier thing to say when you are dead, isn't it? Slim was a giant of a man and the world without his light is a much, much darker place. How much darker can it really get? Peace, Z-d0g +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  13. Fuck. ds +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  14. Dd0g

    Gotta chuckle

    Life is nothing if not ironic. . . Yours truly nearly joined the illustrious list of the dearly departed yesterday skydiving, of all things. One of those AAD gizmos malfunctioned and fired a reserve (roundie, no less) into a perfectly-functioning main as we dipped below 1000 feet to dirt. Who knew that two canopies were so likely to result in an uncontrolled spin. . . cutting away at the Perrine never felt so good, though roundies just don't flare like a Mojo. My already-thin career as a skydiver just doesn't seem to be taking off. Oh, well, BASE it is. It's sure nice to live on a farm surrounded by a lifetime's supply of virgin backcountry vertical terrain. Peace, D-d0g +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  15. I thought you "quit," pansy. What's the problem, are you too incompetent to even quit without fucking that up, as well? Don't worry, JJ, every time you spout bullshit to some unsuspecting journalist, I will be there to correct the record. Always. I guess it's true, the only thing you've ever done successfully is be a liar. . . and, even there, failure looms. I wish he'd have hit you, the world would be a better place. Peace, D. Spink +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.