明哲來訪的時候，提到了一本書：“Camp 4: Recollections of a Yosemite Rockclimber”（作者是 Steve Roper，1994 由 Mountaineers 出版，國會圖書編號：0-89886-381-3）。當時妙青正在寫一些爬岩的小文章，好巧不巧把這本書從圖書館借了回來。明哲他們走了後，我就又回到寫那「永遠寫也寫不完的論文」生活。兩天前，看到這本書無聊的躺在架子上，就順手拿來翻了翻。這一翻，翻了兩天兩夜，從頭翻到尾。
. . . Still, why did we spend so much time in the Valley?
Perhaps, the key word is \"rebellion.\" Many of us regarded the 1950s and 1960s as a time when the world - and especially our country - has lost its way. We saw materialism and complacence . . . John Kennedy gave youth hope, but the events at Dallas （甘迺迪被暗殺）made youth despair. An outpost called Vietnam（越戰）forced its way into an unwilling national psyche（臺灣有點像）. It was a hard time to be proud of our country. Perhaps we stayed close to the cliffs because we didn\'t want to join mainstream society. We Valley cragrats （crag 岩壁 rats 老鼠）of the sixties （1960s） were mostly college dropouts going nowhere. . . .
. . . [No] doubts we were socially backward. \"Who here has ever been to a dance?\" someone once asked at a campfire. A dozen climbers - fit, not particularly ugly, mostly virginal young males - pondered the question. One of us finally ventured: \"I went to a high-school prom once, but I didn\'t dance.\" These same rebellious eccentrics, however, were the most gifted rockclimbers in the world . . . (Introduction, p. 15)
２）關於人和攀登（以首攀 Astroman 為例，5.11，700m，迄今仍為世界經典）：
. . . Pratt and I were just about the only resident climbers left . . . We two had no money to head elsewhere. Weighed down by lassitude and baked by the heat, we simply waited for something to happen . . .
. . . Harding （首攀 Nose 的人）, always an entertaining and persuasive talker . . . [in] the relative cool of evening he talked up the greatness of his plan. \"There are plenty of cracks - and perfect ones too,\" he announced. \"I haven\'t seen a speck of dirt, and Overnight Ledge （岩階名）is super; plenty of room for three.\" Then, playing his trump card, he purred （酒）, \"It\'s in the shade after 2 o\'clock and really nice and cool up there!\" . . .
. . . The next day I looked at the cliff carefully for the first time. \"Holy shit, Harding!\" I exclaimed, \"The whole thing overhangs. In two directions yet!\" Indeed, the wall leaned beyond the vertical. In addition, the upper half of the route diagonaled to the right, which would make strenuous leading, following, and prusiking （普魯式攀登，那時還沒猶瑪）. The greatness of the plan suddenly didn\'t seem so compelling. I also remembered some of Harding\'s stories from the previous nights . . . this story was not nearly so amusing in the light of day. Subdued, I drove to the grocery store with Harding. \"I\'m not sure about this, man. Looks way too damned big to me.\"
\"Hey,\" Harding said suddenly, \"let me buy you a beer and a dead chicken.\" Minutes later, as I attacked an entire barbecued fowl, life once again appeared tolerable. When someone is particularly nice to you, I have since learned, be on guard. Harding issued our marching orders on July 21  and we fell into step . . . (Chapter 4, p. 100)
另有一段關於 Middle Cathedral 北壁的首登：
The second major first ascent of the year  lay on the Cathedral Rocks . . . a dark cliff which [some climbers had said:] \"no reasonable climber will attempt unless prepared to spend several days and nights on the wall.\"
One warm evening in late June, Kamps suggested we go down and look it over. \"It\'ll go, no problem,\" said Bob. So the three of us piled into his car after a hurried dinner and drove down the Valley. The setting sun bathed the face in oblique golden light, warm and friendly. How pleasant it was to sit in the meadow at dusk and plot（計畫） a route! How easy it was to find bivouac ledges, crack systems, even belay spots.
\"Shit, we\'ll run up that part.\" （幹，那一段可以用跑的！）
\"Hey, look at that ledge to the right of that big bush! That could sleep ten!\"
\"Two days, what do you think? . . .\"
What we didn\'t realize was that north faces rarely got sun. Lack of sunlight, we were soon to find out, meant decomposed rock, damp cracks full of grime, and tottering flakes hanging like guillotines （斷頭臺）over chimneys.
The route we accomplished was the least pleasant big one I\'ve ever done. The rock was loose, the pitches unaesthetic, the dirt eye-filling, the mood somber. No \'Whoops!\' of joy ever echoed across the concave cliff. Serious business, this climb, and I felt a little out of my league. We bivouacked the first night on a short, eighteen-inch-wide ledge, simply sitting there like three morons on a park bench. Our asses ached and froze. Below lay 800 feet of ghastly exposure. Above rose a series of sickening slits, steep and rotten. I\'ve had better nights . . . (Chap. 4, p. 99)
It would be fatuous to claim that we who frequented the cliffs . . . scoffed at commercialism. Or that we didn\'t succumb later. Or that everything would have been just dandy if . . . The sport can\'t stay the same for long - and thus it changes. Whether a change is \'good\' or \'bad\' is often impossible to say, especially at first. Still, favorable publicity (and even unfavorable publicity) always increases a sport\'s participants, and this in turn leads to crowding, resentment, a longing for the \'good old days\' - and almost a surge in the quality of the sport . . . (Chap. 3, p. 81)
. . . I wouldn\'t go there [Camp 4] if I were you. They steal from the store and they smell and they wear rags and even piss（小便） right outside their tents. I tell you, it\'s like a leper（麻瘋） colony, that place . . . (Chap. 7, p. 144）
. . . Many of us had painfully shy, with poor record in the dating game. Thanks to climbing, however, our self-esteem had shot up （有別意唷！）, allowing us to begin seeking out female companionship . . . [but] the climbing way of life, not exactly a bed of roses for men, proved intolerable to girlfriends and wives . . . Many of the women were fascinated - for a while. Then they sensed it was going nowhere . . .
. . . We wanted sex partners . . . but we certainly talked more than we acted . . . Even many years later women were unknown to that distant world [Camp 4] . . . So we had beatoff （DIY！哇靠）contests on the bivouac ledges, drenched our sleeping bags in semen, got drunk and indulged in towering fireside smut . . .
Chouinard （後來 Black Diamond 的老闆）, 5\'4\'\', constantly blamed [his] stature for any lack of success with women . . . One day [he] announced that he might as well slice his pecker（那個. . .）off for all the good it did him. He sulked for a few moments and then brightened when someone said: \"What are you going to pissing with, Idiot?\" . . . (Chap. 7. pp. 158-164)
I felt that my enemy is anyone who would, given the power to do so, restrict individual liberty . . . Of course I\'m prejudiced, but I cannot imagine a sport other than climbing which offers such a complete and fulfilling expression of individuality. And I\'ll not give it up nor slow down, nor for man, nor for woman, nor wife, nor God . . . (Chap. 8, p. 166)
然後，講這些話的人在首攀一大牆時： . . . At one point, Pratt（自由攀登的鼻祖）had a momentary attack of angst . . . \"suddenly proclaimed with expressive emphasis to no one in particular: \'I could climb for million years and still not know why I do it . . . Why? . . . Why? he cried, beating his fists against the wall, \'am I here?\' . . . (Chap. 8, p. 181)
最後，Chouinard 首攀 Muir Wall （1966）後，有下面這一段描述：
Down below there were only ten people who ever knew we were up here. Even if we were successful, there would be no crowds of hero worshippers, no newspaper reports. Thank goodness American climbing has not yet progressed to that SORRY state. (Chap. 9, p. 189，我加強了他的語氣）