the rad trads

Dimanche 27 août 2017, Pointe des Cinéastes, Glacier Blanc.
Derrière, le Pelvoux.

Jolie reprise rocheuse facile et tranquille, en grosses et au soleil - sans frayeur. Voisins sympathiques au refuge, et tarte aux noix dûment méritée à la descente. (Pas envie de retourner à la vraie vie.) 


Steph Davis & her trad / rad dog Cajun

I love my dog and I love traveling with her. In certain places it takes no effort at all, in other places it takes effort, and some places are impossible. But if you’re on a roadtrip having your dog with you makes it a lot more fun, in my opinion. My interest in climbing areas is definitely influenced by whether they are dog friendly or not.  I would suggest training your dog to wait at the base for you. One main consideration is wild animals. If you are in an area that could have coyotes, don’t leash your dog alone. It’s definitely better if your dog is good with waiting without a leash.

This is good advice, you hear that, Dean Potter?

anonymous asked:

So what is your opinion of "gothic metal" acts? Stuff like Lacuna Coil, Within Temptation, and Nightwish? I see a lot of baby bats really into it (one of my exes was huge into it) but I see a lot of people consider it trash and those who listen to be "untrue" to the goth scene and therefore poseurs.

This is such a good question and I’m just a little torn about the answer. I answered it, like, three different times before I was close to happy.

Short answer; no. I don’t think listening to Gothic Metal stops anyone from being goff enuff. 

It seems completely natural for metal and Goth to overlap. Nerds. We’re both nerds, can we just say it? 

They may be angrier, we may be more mopey and introspective, but there’s a shared passionate interest in horror, fantasy, history, art, and the macabre. 

Besides Sisters of Mercy is really a metal band according to Andrew ‘Not Goth’ Eldritch. ~*!the more you know!*~

I think, putting my rabble rabble trad is rad curmudgeoning aside, when someone finds a dark, otherworldly, underground genre of music with harpsichords, violins, cellos, and operatic singing about dead lovers- how the hell can I say that’s not goff enuff as I listen to Robert Smith sing about going to bed in a pink jumper while a very confused and inept painter has some kind of Reefer Madness-style freak out?

Originally posted by fuckyeahthecuregifs


The last week and a half of east side life has been pure, dirtbag bliss. The car camping, boulder pad hotel crashing, sent projects and shared laughs with friends have been unstained joy. The music blasting as I propelled myself South toward the playgrounds of the Sierras, the long days of absolute smiles and the overabundance of stellar climbing will be thoroughly missed. I now embark on my next adventure with my great friend and climbing partner, Philabot, to the crags of all crags.. Yosemite Valley. If weather permits we plan to climb two classics, Nutcracker and After six, along with a couple more unknown objectives. With the car packed to head back to Sacramento, a heart full of excitement and a pocket full of unpaid wages collected from a former employer, I’m ready for the next three weeks of greatness before the big trip to Spain.

It feels as if the experiences and events of the last six months have been warped through the 4th dimension, spun through a teleporter and thrown across the timescale. Half of a year full of amazing days climbing, laughing and living has passed right before my feet. An infinite ridgeline crossed and looked back upon with nothing but a smile in my eye and two hands thrown into the blue sky above. This life that has been laid before my feet has certainly given me a great stride and wonderful pace for the next decade of my life. It really couldn’t be possible without the help of my wonderful family, the amazing friends I’ve gained and retained, and a never ending stoke on life.