RIP Jim Bridwell.
Climber, pirate, raconteur.
One of the best of the best.
Here's my photo of him from 2005.
And an anecdote written by John Long.:
"Perhaps the most infamous tale of Yosemite’s Camp 4 - one told a zillion times in a zillion different ways - concerned the then High Lama of Yosemite, Jim Bridwell or "The Bird." Following the first ever land crossing of Borneo, JB returned to Camp 4 with his tripe in sore repair. Battery after battery of diagnostic tests turned up nothing. After another month of burning guts, The Bird, figuring he had cancer, resigned himself to die, deciding to ride out his last days on the waves of a titanic bender, during which he poured enough fierce liquor down his hatch to blind a cigar-store Indian. After seven days and seven nights, JB fell to the ground thrutching and quivering. Concerned onlookers were horror-stricken to behold a tapeworm the size of a black mamba slither from his rectum. (Friends claimed that while The Bird might survive all that sauce, the worm knew it could not, and broke for daylight.) Legend has it that the Bird was instantly restored to his former hale self. Fetching the adder by the neck, he dispatched it, diced it into a frying pan, and offered it to Camp 4 passers by. When challenged to sample a morsel himself, The Bird replied, "No thanks. I'm a vegetarian."
Photo © Jim Herrington