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Utility Menu. Results 1 to 17 of I was convinced that TSA would figure out that my prescription drug bottle was jammed full of pain meds and muscle relaxers, and that they would confiscate them. They didn't seem to care about much at all - ignoring my shovel and crampons completely at the 'security gate. I ended up sitting next to a lovely young Hamburg-ian gal named Hannah - who spoke almost perfect english with a very strong South Carolina accent That's why we shouldn't allow student exchanges to certain parts of the US. I stayed up the whole way across the pond which completely backfired my hopes of surviving jet-lag. The trains from Zurich to St. Anton lulled me asleep - which is a bad thing for making train transfers - but judicious use of my watch alarms managed to wake me right before my stop. I stepped off the train to see JoeStrummer strolling toward me. I was by all accounts completely wacked out of my mind. Complete and utterly destroyed. The drugs, sleep deprevation and stiff neck pain had done a real number It was as if the inside of my head was a fish-tank filled with jello. Voices were muted and at the same time way too loud. I would start a sentence and then just stare off into the distance, with the person I was talking to left staring at me confused. I awoke 5 hours later for long enough to say hello to Paul from Calgary, he likes to party who had arrived to join our merry crew. I then passed out again - snoring loud enough to drive Kirk from our shared bedroom. I blame the muscle relaxers for that. We grabbed our skis and packs and walked a few miles down the road to St. Anton for some truly shitty snow conditions. Dicey, crusty, chattery, shit We skied for long enough to get our blood pumping a bit - billy goating around rocks and crust. Beer makes everything better. Typical shop answer is that 'This binding is not meant for such harsh terrain as St. You should buy Fritschi, they are the best. Can not fix! No problem, ten Euros. Weird issue that developed in the couple miles I did hiking around St. Anton with my skis on my shoulder was that I found out that the boot liner seem running down the ball of my foot was now exposed and rubbing a horrendous blister. I was freaking out a bit and picked up a pricey pair of inserts to help cover the seam - and thankfully the guys at Arl-Sports let me re-cook my liners with the inserts in. That move probably saved the trip for me, because even with the new inserts - I still had deep blisters on the balls of my feet. God love the euros who typically stay on-piste while we are slowly arriving by AM. First runs are worth every headache - deep snow everywhere and I'm not taking any literary lisence when I say that we had the 'off-piste' completely to ourselves. We had some serious visibility break downs a few times - which landed us airing off of things into deep pillow crashes. They were skiing ice and moguls in many spots. After a solid day of trackless snow we grabbed our packs and started the backcountry portion of the trip to the first hut. The Hidelberger Hut was roughly a 3 mile flat slog up a road that the snow cats and sleds use to deliver goods. We really wanted to climb a few gorgeous peaks to avoid the road slog - but the weather closed down any shot of that happening. Of course 40 minutes later the sun hammers through the clouds - and we got our first taste of a few long hours in boots. Foreshortening really fucks with you in big mountain settings. Distances when visibility is clear seem much shorter - or in some case longer than they actually are. The full value skiing had worked me pretty good, especially the last few runs of steep bumps with a fully loaded pack on. By far the heaviest pack I'd skied with I could hear the mantra in the back of my head already. Light is right. I was very wrong with my heavy ass pack. Finally we arrive at the hut and I get my first taste of the odd-ness of hut life. The Hidelberger Hut is pretty typical in it's setup. The place is clean and functional. Not much room, you share a bunk room with 7 others and each floor has a communal bathroom. No soap or warm water, but they do have 3 minute hot showers for 3 Euros. I stored my skins in the skin room, boots in the boot room and then of course my skis towering over the little euro skis with Fritschis in the ski room. My K2 Coombas were by far the longest, and in most cases the widest skis I saw on the trip. Most folks were on to cm skinny skis. A smattering of dynafit and naxo, but they were rare. The wife was pretty adamant that I wear the ABS pack - and I did so happily, but each day I tossed it on - I noticed that my pack starts out empty at 8 pounds. Toss in water, food, shovel, probe, crampons and extra jacket and clothes - well - I was having fantasies about taking a hack saw to my pack and tossing my nitrogen tank and steel crampons into the nearest snow pile. I decided to leave my house slippers behind, and that was a tough call because walking around in your boot liners sucks and walking around in socks sucks when you want to go outside and drink beer on the snow covered patio. I would have definitely replaced crampons with dynafit crampons. I did more steep icey switch backs than I thought we would. My only use for the actual crampons was at the top of the Jem Spitze - which I didn't summit anyways. There were 3 large roped parties descending when I started up and seeing them I rapidly decided to have a seat and just enjoy the views from where I was. Anyways - night one at the Heidleberger and I was truly shocked at how good the food was! Typical hut food is a salad or soup followed by a huge plate of something like meat and potatoes or chicken and pasta. Then out comes desert. All of this with a steady flow of wheat beer. By the time I laid down, I was very well cooked and I think I took a pain med and passed out. One thing to note - if you get your pick of the bunks, always take one on the end and on the bottom. That way when you wake up with a bladder full of beer - you can get in and out without hassle. Breakfast is a serve yourself setup with Apples, Granola, Yogurt, breads with butter and jam and cheese and meats. I didn't bring a thermos, but lots of people do for tea or coffee. Drinking hot liquid after sweating for a couple hours never seems appealing to me. We would take a few extra pieces of bread and make sandwiches for lunch, which we discreetly wrapped in napkins and tucked away. On our first day we climbed for a good chunk of the morning - and I the payoff was some gorgeous boot-top deep snow, untracked and silky. Climbing was much easier on my feet than flat walking. I also got my first taste of big mountain snowpack heebee-jeebees. On our 2nd big lap of the morning, I heard what sounded like massive underground rock-fall and felt like a tiny earthquake. Just a second of noise and barely perceptible motion, but the rumble was enough to put my balls in my stomach. I climbed on with the fellas, sorta questioning what exactly that meant with the JoeStrummer - and we discussed the snow pack. I stopped and dug a big pit to assess the snow and the other 2 guys decided to keep going. The pit was re-assuring in some respects - I couldn't get a block to shear at all - but the snow itself was crystallized like kitty litter. I was fine to just wait for the guys in a safe zone and enjoy the blue sky and cool breeze. I was not interested in more flat walking on blisters so I skied a line basically following our skin track up solo. I got back to the hut about 40 minutes before the fellas because of avoiding the slog and ordered up a beer and a Coke and relaxed on the beer deck. Chilling on the patio drinking beer and eating soup and apple strudel was wonderful. Late in the day, Kirk let Paul and I use his euro phone to call home. I'm man enough to say that lesser men might have accidentally gotten something in their eyes. We woke early and joined the sea of skiers in the long train to the Jamtal Hut. Another blue bird day - we didn't have a single day of bad weather - in fact the blisteringly sunny skies and heat down low started to become a real factor. After a few hours of skinning up slow hills, we stopped and had a delightful lunch overlooking the valley below. There's no words for how beautiful the Alps are We finally got ourselves moving again and Paul and I pushed up a short non-technical peak to take some pictures before rejoining Kirk at a saddle that was truly massive. On a fresh powder day it would have been spectacular. Unfortunately the heat was doing a real number on the snow, so we did mostly survival skiing in sun-cupped snow. Nobody complained one bit though, because it was down hill and when you've just climbed vertical feet Arriving at the Jamtal Hut was phenomenal. This hut is an absolute thing of beauty - with an perfect sun-deck to relax and drink and eat on - at least for Kirk and I. Paul wanted more climbing! Kirk and I got into the betting spirit - and starting an over-under bet on Paul's time to get to a specific rock that looked to be vertical feet above us with 20 or so switchbacks criss-crossing the field. Kirk took the optimistic view that Paul would have the rock at his feet in roughly 15 minutes. I laughed hardily and said I'd take his money. Paul made great time, but even with his greyhound performance - he hit the rock in about 18 minutes and I think I got a free beer Hard to find a better bargain in all of Austria. The next day we decided to get after it. Jam Spitzer and the Jem Spitzer in a long day, with lots and lots of sweating. The typical day was starting to feel like this. Wake up somewhat hung over. Hold nose when anywhere near the shitter. Try to have as slow of a breakfast as possible putting off the inevitable next step Gingerly get my swollen feet crammed into still wet ski boots. Spend the first minutes thinking happy thoughts while swollen feet eventually stop hurting. Climb, climb, climb. Climb, Climb, climb. Cry a bit. The Jam Spitzer was spectacular and we all managed to summit. I think I had one oh-shit moment when during a particularly ugly switch back my skins started sliding backwards - taking no purchase what-so-ever We skied some spectacular snow for about vertical feet before stopping and deciding to tag another summit. The heat was really cooking us on our second climbing route, enough so that I called it my 'going into the oven' time. I started talking to myself in order to stay motivated, mostly by insulting how fat my belly was, how my shitty eating habits had left me with more than enough fat to burn to keep moving. I was sweating buckets, with just a thin merino shirt, a ball cap and my schoeller pants Water ran out after a few hours and soon so did my will. Kirk sized it up and said something along the lines of 'lets go for 30 more minutes and wherever we are, I'm stopping' I was sure I could sack up for 30 more minutes. I plowed on and on literally counting the minutes I took my pack off, skis off and stood there just cooked and dehydrated for a while. I finally figured I'd just wander up a bit further and have a look to see what the summit push looked like and sure enough it was so casual I went ahead and finished the climb to join Paul on the summit. Skiing back to the Jamtal Hut we had more incredible turns - right up until we hit the heavy breakable crust elevation and the skiing became really really hard. My skis sure could have used some rocker camber and reverse sidecut when I continually locked up my skis and desperately tried to not go ass over elbows. Our final hut was the Wiesbadener - which was on the Swiss side and a big step down in quality from the Jamtal. Of course the Jamtal is sorta the 4 Seasons of mountain huts, so don't feel too bad Wiesbadener. Had the snow conditions been better I think we would have liked to do some peak bagging from here, but the heat was making snow conditions shitty at best. Skiing out the valley is something that should not be missed. A bit of skating here and there - but mostly a slow long glide for many kilometers. A bus ride back to St Anton and then the trouble starts. Let me see if I can recap the last night of the trip. Strummer - 'Let's stop for another beer'. Me - 'Okay, but I could use an early night. Just one more beer. Germans, Austrian, English and Australian people dancing and doing massive quantities of drinking and blow. The train departs at AM. Nooooooo question. Me - 'uhhhh god damn, my passport is in there and I have to catch the train before they will wake up. Fuck, shit, Fuck. Talk about pure dumb luck. Perhaps the woman running the place was smart enough to leave our door open - still not sure. I go to call the cab - but we don't know the Austrian phone preposition - so I can't call anybody. Missing this train is not an option if I want to make my flight. I was about to be royally fucked. The next 20 or so hours of trains, planes, buses and cars finally put me back home. I'm extremely disappointed in myself for not writing down all the amazing one-liners that Strummer laid out - but the trip still remains one of my fondest adventures. On Hold for Pix. Enjoy yourselves, keep your brain in your head and your head firmly attached to your body, the body active and alive, and I promise you this much: I promise you this one sweet victory over our enemies, over those deskbound people with their hearts in a safe deposit box and their eyes hypnotized by desk calculators. I promise you this: you will outlive the bastards. Originally Posted by Mr. Awesome report! Join Date Dec Location crown of the continent Posts 13, Something about the wrinkle in your forehead tells me there's a fit about to get thrown And I never hear a single word you say when you tell me not to have my fun It's the same old shit that I ain't gonna take off anyone. Patterson Hood of the DBT's. Ich bitte dich nur, weck mich nicht. I was unaware that there were any 14, meter peaks in the Silvretta. Joe Strummer will never leave, because he is dead. Buried under the Schatzi Bar. Everyone is dancing on his grave. Originally Posted by telelebowski. View Profile View Forum Posts. Join Date Feb Location koots Posts 1, Brilliant, need more of these around here. Join Date Oct Posts 1, Originally Posted by leftfield. Front Range snow sucks? Reminisce about the Alps. I can live with that. Brandine: Now Cletus, if I catch you with pig lipstick on your collar one more time you ain't gonna be allowed to sleep in the barn no more! Cletus: Duly noted. Bookmarks Bookmarks Digg del. The Stash Upload Your Own:. Featured Trip Report. All times are GMT The time now is PM. All rights reserved. Teton Gravity Research.

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Buying coke Ischgl

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Buying coke Ischgl