Red Rocks

December 16-18th, 2003

Had not the rabbit of our inner adolescencant grown soft and weary after months of gloom, rain and academia? Yay proclaimed the ever agile and dynamic sirs Carlesten and Viceroy. "What ho!" I exclaimed upon arrival of a white dove, burdened with none other than a sassy and captivating invitation. A voyage yonder to the stones of the mystically sensual and overwhelmenly doubious village of Las Vegas was proposed. Myself, a simple serf of the terresterial, gained access to a magnificent charriot of the celestial sphere and thus the trillogy began.

Arrangments existed such that a rendezvous with the gainfully unencumbered Pax and partner Kim was forthright. Our much anticipated arrival in the campground, one which commenced not just a smidgen of annoyance, was rejoiced by the other peasants. As the sun pierced our terresterial plane, unbeknownst to our kind and gentle troupe, the sly and lascivious campground lords would soon be collecting their tax of blood, servitude and $10 from our shoddy hides. We attempted to escape said bounty in modifying our material manifestation, pose as wittless vagrants, and elude our aged captors. It was to no avail as they corralled us expeditiously with their massive idling charriot. Before the sun had reached a stone's distance in the sky, Pax and Kim were located, and we lauched their charriot of silver towards the lofty preciptices of "Ginger Crack".

Rainbow mountain (left), with Ginger Crack existing on the sunlit and triangular buttress.

Our journey was long and vigorous, ascending slopes of rouge sand, sage green hills and canyons of this most unusual "sand-rock". Our group commenced the climb quickly upon arrival at the base as the subsidy of time was not with us. As viceroy himself was so hot, he began the path up the walls of sand with not just a bit of elation and intoxicated merryment.

The Duke of Carlesten remarks, "And so we begin young and unsuspecting Alpinist of Dave!"

Good tidings to chilled and wearisome fingers on pitch 1 (5.7). Photo: Sam 'Viceroy' Warren.

Viceroy comes bearing doves and branches of olive on the second pitch (5.8).

Alpinist of Dave opening the book of pitch 3 (5.7).
Photo: Sam 'Viceroy' Warren.

Our audaciously intrepid sirs relish the fine exposure as they unearth passage through the third pitch.

"Belay me with utmost care and composure on this crux journey (5.9), Alpinist of Dave, less I relinquish mine sharp and trusty broadsword across thy backside!"

Sir Viceroy encountered new and hearty bolts through the crux face climbs, allowing safe and brisk passage through the difficulties.

Alpinist of Dave and The Duke of Carlesten suspended in slings on the only hanging belay.
Photo: Sam 'Viceroy' Warren.

The potent and ceremonious delight of steep face climbing with a crack for protection is found in pitch 5 of the Ginger Crack. (5.7)

Alas, our timely arrival atop the tower of sand did not precede the setting of thy holy ball of fire. Milord Pax and Milady Kim were none too impressed at our sluggish and slothlike ascent as the magnitude of ambient thermal radiation was quite low. We proceeded to rappel off into the night, a double rope down to groves of cactus and juniper branches lead us to a path ajoining a watercourse. This lead to a singular pair of bolts atop a steep and forboding precipitice from which two double rope rappels brought us again to that dusty and horizontal plane.

That night the peasants found comfort in the ale of Yangying, while the lords consumed the ale of California's mighty range. Soon however, the yearning for mating of flesh with nylon encrusted feather of fowl signaled the end of a most pleasing day.

As sunshine's tepid and revitalizing qualities were lacking on the Ginger Crack, we resolved to befal ourselves to that lewd and genital local known as "The Second Pull Out". Suitably named for the promiscuouity of the nearby village, we headed towards the sport climbing mecca of "The Gallery".

Viceroy walks among the firey stones of debauchery.

The Duke of Carlesten unshrouds the furry flesh of man.
Photo: Sam 'Viceroy' Warren.

Viceroy siezes the powdered nipples of her majesty...
and the peasants rejoice!

The young peasant ascends with the ferver of a lusty mutton.
Photo: The Duke of Carlesten.

Milord Pax can crank!!!

A race to the top! May the loser be lashed to mighty stallions and drug through the most offensive of desert's spinney bloom.

The Gallery, residence of leh-bee-sions and utterance of the nefarious "P" word.

Our journey concluded that spectacular day at the Mass Production Wall. Yet the true maxim of our voyage has, thus far, not been candid and forthright. This voyage included that quintessential vein... nay that very ARTERY of our carnal existance: love. Though she was a minute peasant among the gargantuan stones of sand, and though she resided in the most despicable of alleyways (among scoundrel boulders harboring not less than a foot of snow), sir Viceroy discovered true love with his mistress "Lucie".

Awwww, Lucie.

Little did Viceroy know that across the valley, the menacing brute "Oblong" was plotting his revenge for the loss of his beloved Lucie.








Wait, did you think you'd get away without a little belly porn?!?!?!?!?

Ladies, please attempt to control yourselves!! The biblical flood of phone numbers and lacivious paraphernalia since our last installment of belly porn has been outrageous! Perhaps I should not blame you though, as it is undenyable how these sexy beasts of men can drive one MAD with desire!!

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