music: Eva Cassidy- Live from Blues Alley
My old roommate Liz made up a song about me. It was to the tune of that old bubblegum pop 1950’s song “It’s in his kiss” and the only line she worked out is “it’s in his bag/that’s where it is!” She, apparently was impressed with all the things I carry around with me. Someday I should do a complete buttpack inventory and post it, but for today it’s enough to know that I have two 6’ lengths of 4 mm p-cord stashed away in the bag.
I was at The Gut working out some plans for this week and whipping out a final round of cover letters when a fellow member of the TAC program comes up looking like they are about to ask a favor. Turns out some professor’s kid dropped their toy Superman in the pit that lines the building and couldn’t get it out. My friend couldn’t find the security guard to open the basement door to the outside in that pit. The problem with just jumping down there is that you can’t easily get out of it- the pitch is about 75-80 degrees off the horizontal and there’s nothing to hold onto as you climb. But my friend’s thought process went something like this: oh, Taus is like a mountain climber, he can get down there to get that kid’s toy. Sure, sure.
I whipped out my two lengths of p-cord and tied them together with a fisherman’s (note: different from the fisherman’s taught to tie up sails at Minikani) and did a double-eight to anchor one end of the rope on a railing. Then a quick descent, a gathering of the kid’s toy, and no problems coming back up because of the rope. In the bag.
(This is a great site on knots, by the way.)
No, I never was a boy scout. Better. I was a camp counselor. And if you are a camp counselor, you are nothing without your stocked buttpack. Over the years I’ve refined the practice to better suit urban travel and navigation, but the old reliable items still come through in the clutch. I guess I’m infamous among those that know me for my stocked buttpack. 1ey and tmo as well. They like to call it my man-purse, which is fine. But it’s really my superhero utility belt.
Posted by davidtaus at April 25, 2004 10:56 PMHey, nice blog, would you like link together?
Posted by: Farhad at April 26, 2004 12:48 PMi think that the comment takes care of itself, yes?
Posted by: davidtaus at April 26, 2004 07:56 PMuhm, nalegene, 3 beaners, floss, lighter, drivers lic. duplicate, 2 footbags, tabasco, moleskine, sunglasses in a sock (nigga brand glasses, available in peru), pen, snot/utility rag, lexan spoom & fork, polar-pure iodine, ankle tape (screw duct tape!), petzl tikka plus, sharpie ultra fine point, alarm clock, 4 full AA�s, leatherman juice cs4, earplugs (concert and blocking), necklaces, 256 MB of compact flash cards, a hat, a go-lite waterproof bag, a canon powershot a70, a roll of TP, a moneybelt, Kon-Tiki in german, Gaia in english, mini-tripod, half a power bar, compass, sticketrs, nag-champa, and my superhero-keychain: (carpet knife, 128 MB USB dongle, clock, whistle, 2 rings, bottle openerled light, and a few empty key rings )…. o yeah, and that piece of rope, but no 13 feet of pcord, that’s in my backpack topsack for now…
Posted by: 1e at April 26, 2004 09:23 PMthese are the same philosophers who preach the barefoot irreverence of anti-materialistic waldenism. and i too am a living and breathing contradiction of myself, i realize.
as a fellow buttpacker, i know that you need these items. it’s just funny, that’s all.
back to the prince fari boxed set.
Posted by: ajm at April 26, 2004 10:08 PMPrince Far I Box Set, there’s such a thing… I gotta come visit. Or I gotta visit Mr. Paul Sackley, ultimate player and coach (my sister’s) extraordinaire who’s got a mad Prince Far I collection as far as I remember. He’s who turned me on. Heavy Shit.
Posted by: 1e at April 27, 2004 02:38 PMI have never called it a buttpack. When I was in Ireland and those small hip-belted “fanny packs” were all the rage in the states, the Irish were kind enough to point out that fanny pack was an active verb in their vernacular. Hence, I do not identify my gear in the active.
Nor have I ever called it a man-purse, in reference to Taus’ devotion to his bag. I think his roommate Kay started that.
I have always called it what it is, a MountainSmith. I tend to use the possesive as in “check for that incense in my Mt. Smith.” True, there is a certain degree of brand awareness in such a statement, but they make a damn good product. Lifetime guarantee—they replaced my first Cairn free of charge. When you see somebody hoofing it down the trail or along the sidewalk with a ‘Smith, you know they’re down, or at least could be ;-)
Historical fact: pre-Mt.Smith I used to rock an LL-Bean hip-pack bag/utility belt. It got me through 6 months on the British Isles as well as numerous Phish tours.
Posted by: [tmo] at April 28, 2004 11:20 AM