New Art II

The latest instillation in the ongoing :
'While the Roomates Away, Art Will Play' series by Lucius
medium: Spraypaint on wall

If you have not experienced the 'I Like Turtles' video, check it out:

Precision Spitting

Ben reminded me that I forgot to talk about this in the train hopping post and it was such a momentous event that I felt it deserved mentioning.

Ben and I had just got done riding the trains (see September 12) and we were heading home on the tracks. On the way back we passed over a bridge above some fairly busy road. I saw a car coming and without really thinking about it called out "Ben spit on that car." So Ben got to the railing, stuck his head out, waited until the car was just about to pass, spit and - (Neither of thought there was a really a chance at hitting the car but...) PLIP! The spit nailed the car's window right on the mark and made the most satisfying lil' splat sound of all time. I'm sure the driver was thinking, "Hey what are those guys doing on the train tr- Oh what the hell! Those bastards spit on me!" Ben and I, as semi-retarded gentlemen, thought it was the funniest thing.

Bike Makes Headline News, sort of

My bike was in USC's newspaper today. Oh and by the way, it was not altered with duct tape. That's pure spray paint, baby.

The Theater Pt. II

Remember a few weeks back when we explored the Theater and had no pictures? Yeah, so when Ben's camera came in a week after that (I've been putting off writing about this for awhile now) we decided to make a second attempt at the theater, this time documenting the whole adventure.

We knew we were pressing our luck so we were bent on making this a sure shot straight to the roof while picturing the remnants of last trip. Except this time, things went a bit differently than planned.



The back where we snuck in the first time.

We struck with some reverse graffiti (grime writing, clean tagging, dust tagging, etc) The second picture is kind of hard to distinguish, but it reads "D4H" (standing for Dog 4 Horse, a moniker of The Dog Faced Horse Man) with a dog face Ben drew.
The only problem was the back was locked.
So we resorted to the front.


You have to keep in mind how dark all of this was for us. We were just traveling through almost a jet black darkness. This being our first photoed mission I was hesitant to even take pictures, because before we discovered night vision we were using flash (and still do dependent on the risk factor). To anyone who might get wise to us being there a camera flash would be an instant give away to our local.Here comes the problem and the reason you don't "return to the scene of the crime" : As we ascended the stairs to the final door opening to the top catwalk we heard some people coming. Now we are trapped with the only way to go being up. Ben and I silently sprint through the door, over the catwalk, and up the spiral staircase. Two workers rigging stage lights appear on the catwalk below us. We are shaken but remain as still and quiet as possible. They haven't noticed us yet and we realize the only safe bet is to get as far up as possible and pray they don't come that high. Over their sparse conversation we make our way up the ladder to the rafters below the roof, timing each move with a uproar in talking.

Eventually the two men move down to the stage where they begin working pulley s and ropes. Not knowing what to do, Ben and I wait up in the rafters, hiding our figures with the beams and clutching onto pillars to blend in. The phrase 'heat rises' never became so evident as when we were up there literally sweating it out for about 15 minutes now. I stayed put and listened to their conversation which began to take a turn for the worse. They had to work a rig up high and were coming up. Footsteps resonated in the stairwell then creaked past the first catwalk. The spiral stair case began to clamor under the workers weight.

Now I'm freaking out. Ben and I squeeze behind a pillar as close to the wall as we could. That one spot, as poor of a hiding spot as it was, was the only thing concealing our sight from theirs. The lights in the rafters flicker on as the men arrive at the highest catwalk 20 feet away from us. My mind is racing. What am I going to do if they see us? Do we stand any chance? Should we just come out now and throw our selves at the feet of their mercy? Wait. Sometimes you need to just breathe and wait. Fight or flight will kick in when it needs to, if it needs to. A grueling 10 more minutes went by as sweat dripped down our backs and the men teetered on the edge of our capture.

They left the catwalk and relief flowed through our bodies. To an extent, because the appeared a second later on stage and we still had to sneak our way down through two catwalks a ladder and a spiral staircase.

Here's the scenario -
one guy on a catwalk directly across from us on the other side of the stage
one guy on the stage working on rigging ropes

Ben is the first to go. He makes it to the first catwalk and down the ladder. Now comes the tricky part - the guy on the catwalk on other side of the stage can be obscured by the numerous curtains, but Ben must crouch down and keep tabs on the guys location as he moves so he can position himself at an angle where the curtain blocks him. This only allows about a 2 foot space for Ben to stand in at any given time. Watching above, I see Ben jolting back and forth and I wonder how the hell we got in this situation. But he gets to the door and begins to beckon me. He's watching the guy across the way, but he can't see the guy on the stage. So here I am going down this exposed spiral stair case as silently as possible keeping tabs on my guy and then trying to find the perfect moment when Ben gives me the signal and I'm clear both ways. I catch that moment and sprint. We clear the doors and took a few turns to allude our little worker friends and get out of there.

-In the rafters-
-We felt this poster was very relevant. (We took the copy that was on the back and it is now proudly hanging in our dorm)
Till next time theater. We won't go down that easy.

Stay tuned for 'The Theater pt. III' as Ben makes a risky solo attempt at the theater heist.

Summiting the Water Tower

Good God. Last night was the scariest and most incredible adventure Ben and I have been on yet.

At 11:00 pm we were in our dorm talking about the last water tower attempt. The thing was we saw two other older water towers that we hadn't attempted yet. So Ben says,

"Well I've got 3 hours until I want to be asleep."

I had to rudely end a conversation I was having with Tim Shipp online. Sorry Tim.

"Alright. Let's hit it."

So we suited up in our exploring gear - digital camera, multitool, thick long sleeve jackets and jeans, and our own head gear - for Ben a fedora and I a red headband. We looked like more ridiculous versions of Indiana Jones and Rambo, but we didn't care, we thought we were bad-asses. No one even questioned us as we stepped out the door and down the elevator, we did receive some confused looks.
Around 11:30 we arrive at the first water tower. It's on the side of a fairly busy rode between two houses guarded by a barbed wire fence. Waiting until a lull in traffic I jumped the wall and traversed into the brush with Ben shortly behind me. The whole area including the fence was completely overgrown with what I can only assume was some form of kudzu. "The only people barbed wire is keeping out is fat guys and morons," said Ben. And us being skinny and only slightly morons we were able to tackle the barbed wire without much problem.

*Bring and multitool and clip a section of the wire out is the moral of that story*

Underneath the tower we begin to understand how tall and old this thing was. Above all we begin to understand the risk, because the only ladder for one is old and rusty but more importantly is completely exposed to the road right beside it. Had the ladder not looked like it was going to fall apart and kill us we may have been more likely to attempt to take the ladder fast in hopes no one (or more specifically no cops) would drive by as we're suspended in air. Another watertower risk realized. So we marked it off as an examination of the obstacles against us and moved on to our next target - a water tower we saw while on the train.

Not remembering exactly it's local we walked down the tracks and hoped for a train going our way to cut down on time, but to no avail. No trains came and we were only tricked by bright lights that fooled our minds into seeming to grow closer.
After 20 minutes on the track Ben turned around, "Woah!", we had almost walked right past the tower.
With tower in sight we left the tracks and went through the brush. The brush composed of thick agonizing brier thorns that tore away at us as we stepped in. But we got through and felt the worse had to be over cause damn did that brier suck. How we were wrong. So so wrong.

Side quest: We saw some graffiti and a low roof. Consequently this happened:
There was no clear way to the tower. It was in the middle of another tremendously overgrown field. I guess after noone uses something for so long nature starts reclaiming it's place. 'There Will Come Soft Rains" anybody? It's a poem, read it. The Ray Bradbury short story based on it is pretty good too, but I digress.

We have to aproach this problem headlong so we find a spot where the woods opened a bit and the fence had been broken down just enough to get over. The initial wooded area was slow going but fine. Then we descended into the hell storm of the brier patch. A chest high field of nothing but thorns tearing at you as you tried to get through, slicing your legs and entrapping your feet with every move. I led first and took the brunt of the pain kicking down a path for us to get through. It got to a point where I really viewed the brier as a person out to get me and all I could do was curse at it and ignore the pain as I stomped the hell out of it. But for all I did to it, it got me back. (pictures later). This went on for what must have been 15 minutes just getting through 15 yards to arrive at the water tower.
The tower was taller and more overgrown than the last with a ladder so small it made us think the designers were trying to kill us. When I pictured climbing these towers I guess I always envisioned a cage around the ladder for some safety. No such luck. It was a straight shot up 10 feet first on the actual beam leg of the tower and then about 90 feet more of the ladder which was partially engulfed by a tree you had to maneuver around for 20 feet. But if the barbed wire and valley of thorns hadn't stopped us, we weren't going to stop there. Unlike the other tower, this one's ladder was on a side hidden from the street. So I gathered my wits and started climbing.

It was the most frightening climb I've ever done and I've been rock climbing and just straight up climbing anything I could for years. As I climbed my body became hyper aware of what it needed to do. My adrenline kicked in and I forget any pain I had in my body. My mind became entranced in keeping myself alive, turning me virtually into a climbing robot. I never looked down and nothing exsisted beside what I could see in my direct vision. It was just 'right hand, right foot, left hand, left foot.." never moving unless I knew I had three strong holds. 100 feet I climbed until I reached the top which was the scariest of all. You had to dismount the ladder and squeeze under or over a railing with nothing holding you in. One false move and you fall to your death. When I got in and was able to sit down on the tower my heart was racing, my breathing was heavy and I was uttering "Holy shit." ever few moments.

Now it was Ben's turn and I'm sure he was going through everything I went through. I wanted to encourage him as he was climbing but I dared not break his concentration. I didn't say anything or move until he was clear up. We took a moment to get grip of ourselves before we looked around.

The experience was breathtaking, the view incredible, the feeling of the climb unmatched.

Our feet dangling off the edge a hundred feet in the air

The trip down the ladder wasn't too bad after I got myself out from the platform and onto the ladder. A very tricky and risky move. We just didn't want to die in front of each other, so we made it. On the walk home we couldn't believe what we had just done and were only reassured of the reality of it when we saw the numerous cuts on our legs and dozens of hitchhiker seeds stuck to our clothes.

My leg after battling the brier patch

A little Disclaimer for the Reader:
I will never discourage you from adventure, but I will let you know the most important thing I've found. Trust. (and I know that sounds like cheesy team building workshop stuff but still) You need to completely trust yourself before you can even think about attempting something like this. I've been climbing all my life and know my limits - what risks I can take and which I can't. You need to know that you can tell your body to do a move and trust yourself enough to do it. People run into problems when they don't trust themselves and start getting nervous and not committing to what they are doing. There was nothing technical about the water tower climb, the key is convincing yourself that you can do it and nothing will go wrong.

Second off, if you adventure with anyone (which I highly recommend) you need to completely trust that person and understand them. The worst thing you can do is go off and start exploring with people you are not tight with and something goes down and they make a break for it and leave you in the dust. It's about getting everyone to the same point and having each other's backs if all else goes wrong. And if you are going to try to complete a risky physical activity you need to know the level your co-adventurer is at.

At this point in my life, I wouldn't have trusted anyone but Ben to climb that tower with me. He's a great climber and we understand what it takes. I would be too afraid to let anyone else climb that with me.

That's it.

We got home at 2:30. So much for being home in 3 hours. It was all worth it. Adventure is always worth it.

New Sign

Origin: Found in concrete stairwell on Columbia Campus.
Price I Had to Pay: While trying to get a hold on the final screw with the pliers on my multitool, the pliers slipped off the bolt and pinched the hell out of my thumb. Then for about a week and a half I had a real nasty blood blister. Battle scar. Worth it.
New Local: Adorning our bathroom door

What Starts at 11 Ends at 3

Last night Ben had just got off the phone and things were winding down. Having a moment of clarity I remember the sign and asked,

"Hey do want to go grab that sign?"
"You mean right now."
"Well, yeah."
"Alright."

See, the other day I was riding my bike around Wheat and Pickens street and noticed a street sign had been knocked over and I love me some street signs. Not being properly equipped to take it then I kicked the sign and post under the bushes for safe keeping.

Ben and I drove over to pick up the sign, this time with all my tools to get it off the post. No luck. The sign was back up and our hopes were back down. All dressed up and no where to go we resorted to scanning the proximity looking for any interesting or vulnerable pieces. That's about the time we come across the "Pet Waste Trasmits Disease" sign on the side of a vacant street. Feeling the time was right, we made quick of our work and within a minute the sign was sitting under the floor mat of Ben's car riding to it's new home in Bates West.
Now we're up and looking for adventure and we had to look no further than down the street. We zipped back to Bates West to grab Ben's camera and headed down to check out and potentially climb the watertower.
The gate was locked but easily wide enough to squeeze through. Granted, Ben and I are pretty slender. I figure that gate could keep out the well fed hoodlums pretty well. The whole thing was reeking of risk seeing how right across from us only obscured by darkness and a chain-link fence was an intersection brimming with cars splashing their lights on us at every pass. We saw the ladder on the tower. The only problem was it started 30 feet up in the air.


We checked out anything we could in search of an answer to the ladder problem but were only met with a few control panels with a pamphlet of schematics I would never understand. We decided it best not to just push buttons or turn any of the keys.


Understandably, we were a bit let down as we trotted our way back to BW. As we are walking to the door we hear the train roaring on the tracks beside our dorm.

"Is that the train?"

We both looked over and understood eachother's mindset and in an instant we were sprinting down the hill jumping a fence, heading to the tracks. The train was screaming by as Ben and I ran beside it trying to find something to hold on to. We both managed to grab on and hop aboard the side of train. Exhilarated with the night air rushing by we rode the train until we felt we might be getting uncomfortably far away. So, we hopped off intending to head back. That was until we saw a cab that we could get to the roof of the train on. Then we were back sprinting and train hopping. It was wonderful childhood dream finally realized. The train would periodically stop and we'd have a sort of irrational fear it was because of us.

In due time we were back off the train, realizing the walk home had gotten really far by this point. But adventure and opportunity never stops and when we saw an open cab we had to jump in and hope there were no hobos sleeping in it. Luckily there weren't. But when we got in the train shook like hell and scared the shit out of Ben and I when the whole cab resounded with a cacophony of metal clanging.

Exploring most all our options, we started thinking logically again and jumped off the train. (If you've never tried jumping off a moving train, it is more a mid air run into a ground stumble than an easy jump) By this point we are well past the stadium a few miles away from where we started and now we have to walk the tracks home. As we do, we notice a persistent bright light behind us, but for the life of us we can't tell if it is getting bigger or not everytime we check. The thing is the light even goes out at one point, so now I'm really confused.
And then we notice the 'no trespassing on the tracks sign' but we keep walking along and after about 5 minutes I look back to check the light again and - "Oh dip! That's a train" Ben and I rush off the tracks and hide in the woods until the conductor goes by so we can get on a later cart and ride it home unnoticed.
What luck. But, the trains not going exactly the same way and we over shoot our destination and end up at a Sonic where we split a much deserved cheeseburger.
Looking back, I'm glad we made the stop.

This track bolt was our souvenir for the night's adventure.