The Prescription - May 2021

A huge avalanche in July stripped the north face of Mt. Belanger in Jasper National Park, Canada, down to bare glacial ice. Photo by Grant Statham

The Prescription - May 2021

KNOW THE ROPES: SUMMER AVALANCHES

Spring and Summer Hazards for Mountaineers

It’s springtime and that means snow slopes have stabilized and avalanche danger is a thing of the past, right? Not so fast. For mountaineers and skiers, avalanche season continues well into summer. And in the warmer months, mountaineers account for the large majority of fatal avalanche incidents.

For the 2020 edition of Accidents in North American Climbing, Seattle-based ski mountaineering guide and avalanche forecaster Matt Schonwald wrote an in-depth “Know the Ropes” article about mountaineering avalanches. At the top of his article, Matt described the problems with these avalanches and the reasons many climbers are less than fully prepared:

Spring avalanche on the Ptarmigan Glacier in Rocky Mountain National Park. Note the track on the left. A party of climbers/skiers climbed this slope about one hour before the slide. Photo by Dougald MacDonald

“Although a large majority of avalanche fatalities occur in the winter months, avalanches are not uncommon in the long days of late spring and early summer. According to the national database compiled by the Colorado Avalanche Information Center (CAIC), since 1951 in the United States, 39 out of 44 avalanche fatalities in June and 31 out of 43 in May have involved climbers.

“Most backcountry skiers and winter mountaineers in avalanche-prone areas have some knowledge of the hazards and carry basic avalanche safety equipment, such as transceivers, probes, and shovels…. But preparation for avalanche hazards in the spring and summer mountaineering season is not as widespread or systematic. Most avalanche training is skewed toward winter travelers, and many avalanches that affect mountaineers occur in terrain not covered by avalanche forecasts or after avalanche centers have shut down for the season.

“At the same time, the consequences of an avalanche are at least as great for mountaineers in spring and summer as they are during the winter months. As the winter snowpack melts back, additional hazards are exposed. Cliffs, narrow couloirs, exposed crevasses or boulder fields, and other terrain traps make an encounter with even a small avalanche potentially fatal.

“Mountains big and small possess the potential to bury or injure you with the right combination of unstable snow, terrain, and a trigger—often someone in your party. It’s not only important to recognize these hazards but also to have the discipline to respect the problem and choose another route or wait till the risk decreases. In preparing to enter avalanche terrain, the mountaineer must be focused more on avoiding avalanches than on surviving one, and that is the focus of this article.”

Matt’s story goes on to describe how to recognize avalanche hazards in mountaineering settings and how to plan climbs to minimize the hazards. If you’re contemplating a climbing or skiing trip in snowy mountains this season, this article is essential reading. If you prefer a PDF copy, log in to your profile at the AAC website and look under Publications in the member benefits area—you can download the complete 2020 ANAC there.

FROM THE ARCHIVE: A Real-World Example From Mt. Hood

Mt. Hood’s south side, about 24 hours after the avalanche on May 31, 1998. (A) The 300-foot crown fracture extended across the whole slope above Crater Rock, varying from one to five feet high. (B) The Hogsback bergschrund, below the Pearly Gates. Screen shot from KGW-Television cam at Timberline Lodge

In the 1999 edition of ANAC, we described a tragic incident on Mt. Hood on May 31, 1998. An avalanche struck a team attempting the West Crater Rim route at 10:05 a.m. and swept down about 1,250 feet. One climber was killed in the slide and two others seriously injured; the leader of the group, on a separate rope team, also was injured. The party had headed up the mountain despite one to two feet of new snow in the past week, a “high avalanche hazard” warning posted by the U.S. Forest Service, and signs of recent avalanche activity along their route.

According to the Mt. Hood climbing ranger, most of the people on the mountain that day in late May did not carry avalanche transceivers. “Some of these climbers later remarked that they hadn’t considered avalanches to be a problem, as it was late in the season and it was such a beautiful day,” the report says. “But in fact, a secondary maximum in monthly Northwest avalanche fatalities occurs in May, similar to the mid-winter Northwest maximums.”

Read the full ANAC report here.  

Rockfall took out this anchor at the Narrows, near Redstone, Colorado, last summer. Photo by Chris Kalous (@enormocast)

IT’S SPRINGTIME! HEADS UP!

Avalanches aren’t the only hazards that trend upward in springtime: Rockfall and loose holds become more frequent at many cliffs in the spring, as the freeze-thaw cycle and heavy precipitation prepares missiles for launching.

Last May, a climber experienced this the hard way during the fifth-class approach to Break on Through at Moore’s Wall, North Carolina. Two weeks of heavy rain had loosened some big holds, and this climber found one of them. His report will be published in ANAC 2021, but you can read it now at the AAC’s publications website.

If you choose not to wear a helmet for shorter climbs, such as sport routes, consider changing this habit for spring and early summer climbs. In addition to the hazards mentioned above, thunderstorms frequently send volleys of rock over cliffs, threatening climbers and belayers alike. Rockfall also may impact fixed gear and anchors: Check before you trust.

THE SHARP END PODCAST

Last summer, Jes Scott and Erica Ellefsen set out on an 80-kilometer high-mountain traverse from Mt. Washington to Flower Ridge in Strathcona Provincial Park, British Columbia. Listen to the latest Sharp End podcast to hear what went wrong during their planned eight-day traverse and how they decided to call for a rescue. The Sharp End podcast is sponsored by the American Alpine Club.

---

The monthly Accidents Bulletin is supported by adidas Outdoor and the members of the American Alpine Club.

The Prescription - April 2021

Just tie the darned knot! Photo by Ron Funderburke.

The Prescription - April 2021

LOWERING ERROR – NO STOPPER KNOT

A PERSONAL STORY FROM THE EDITOR IN CHIEF

One of the most common incidents reported in Accidents in North American Climbing is lowering a climber off the end of the rope (specifically, allowing the end of the rope to pass through a belay device, causing the climber to fall to the ground). As the editor of Accidents for the last seven years, I am all too familiar with this accident type. Yet late last year, I allowed it to happen to me.

In sharing this story, the last thing I want to do is blame my belayer. I firmly believe that climbers are largely responsible for our own safety, and, as I’ll explain, I had enough information and know-how to make much better decisions before starting up this route.

The climb was our warm-up on a sunny October day at Staunton State Park in Colorado. The Mountain Project description of this 5.9+ sport route said it was 95 feet high and that you could lower with a 60-meter rope with care. We had brought a fairly new 60-meter rope to the crag. The pitch was obviously long: I couldn’t see the anchor over a bulge up high, and the description said there were 14 protection bolts. But all these clues didn’t prompt me to tie a stopper knot in the belayer’s end of the rope before heading up.

During the long pitch, I made a mental note to tell my belayer to keep an eye on the end of the rope as I lowered off, and I thought the same thing as I rigged the anchor for top-roping. But I couldn’t see the belayer on the ground until I had lowered for 35 or 40 feet, and by then I’d forgotten my plan to warn the belayer to watch the ends.

Photo of the author by Mark Hammond

Three or four feet off the ground, as I was backing down ledges at the base of the climb, the rope end shot through the belayer’s device and I tumbled to the ground, knocking over the belayer and rolling across a stony belay platform. Fortunately, neither of us were injured, but we were both badly shaken.

Did I feel stupid? You bet I did. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve written some form of this sentence in the pages of Accidents: “A stopper knot in the end of the rope would have prevented this accident.” I even urged readers to make a pledge to tie stopper knots in an editorial a couple of years ago. How could I have neglected this basic step? It was complacency, plain and simple.

No one is immune to mistakes. The only way to ensure you’ll have a stopper knot when you need it is to tie one every time. (Or you can tie the belayer’s end to a rope bag, or the belayer can tie in to close the system.) Every time. It feels silly for short pitches, but it forms a routine, so you’ll be prepared when it really counts. Tying the knot also subtly influences your climbing partners and other climbers at the crag; hopefully, they’ll develop their own good habits.

The Mountain Project description for that climb at Staunton has been revised, and now it should be clear that a 70-meter rope (or some easy downclimbing with a 60m) is needed. But ropes shrink, ropes get cut, your partner might have forgotten which rope he brought. A stopper knot is the ultimate shield against bad beta. It’s also a wonderful antidote to complacency.

I got off easy last October, and I’ve finally learned my lesson. Closing the belay system takes only seconds, and there is no downside. So, please, don’t repeat my mistake. Just tie the darned knot.

— Dougald MacDonald, Editor

THE SHARP END PODCAST

Back in 1982, Jean Muenchrath and her partner summited Mt. Whitney as the culmination of a winter ski traverse of the John Muir Trail. On the summit they were caught in a severe snow and lightning storm. During their attempt to escape the mountain, her partner took a long sliding fall, and then Jean, trying to get down herself, also fell and bounced down through rocks for more than 150 feet, enduring massive trauma. Listen to this episode to hear a true story of tenacity and survival. The Sharp End podcast is sponsored by the American Alpine Club.

MEET THE RESCUERS

Dr. Christopher Van Tilburg, medical director for Mt. Hood rescue teams, gives us an update on climbing and COVID-19.

Home town: Hood River, Oregon

Christopher Van Tilburg near Everest Base Camp, Nepal.

Volunteer and professional life: I’m a rescuer and medical director for Hood River Crag Rats and medical director for Portland Mountain Rescue, Pacific Northwest SAR, and Clackamas County SAR. Basically all the areas around Mt. Hood. My day job is working for Providence Hood River Memorial Hospital in clinic and the emergency room, but also at the Mount Hood Meadows ski resort (21 years!). Finally, I’m the Hood River County medical examiner and public health officer, which is a good complement for public safety and SAR work. 

How did you first become interested in search and rescue?

I grew up with parents who spent lots of time volunteering in the local community and abroad. They were involved in the Friendship Force, a person-to-person exchange program, and Christian Medical Society. Initially I became interested in wilderness medicine through doing medical relief programs. Then, in medical school, I realized it was a way of merging my passion with the outdoors, medicine, and my interest in volunteering. 

Any personal climbing accidents or close calls?

I almost died on Mt. Hood in an inbounds ski accident. One weekend we had six inches of rain followed by freezing temps, so the snowpack froze solid. Then we had a foot of snow. I fell and ended up having emergency surgery. It put things in perspective: Things can go bad at any time, in an instant. 

What sort of work are you doing with SAR teams in relation to COVID-19?

I put together or assisted with most COVID-19 protocols for the teams where I am medical director. It was particularly challenging because recommendations changed as the pandemic evolved. 

Given that most of our readers are climbing outdoors, how worried do they need to be about catching or transmitting the virus?

Outdoor activity is very low risk. Probably the biggest risk is driving in a closed vehicle to the mountain or crag or sharing a tent. I’ve been vaccinated since very early, but I—and my ski buddies—still wear a mask on the commute up the mountain. Vaccination limits risk, wearing a mask limits risk, washing hands and trying to keep your distance limits risk. Employ these three things and you’ll be much safer. 

What other precautions can climbers and mountaineers take?

Forming a pod of people with whom you climb regularly will help. Then, do a quick safety check before leaving the house to pick up your buddy: Are you sick? Have you been exposed to someone sick? 

With vaccination increasing and so many states opening up, even as COVID variants are spreading, how should climbers adjust their risk assessment during the spring and summer months?

Right now, keep wearing a mask. We don’t know yet about variants, how effective the vaccine will be. We also have many cases of people vaccinated but still getting COVID-19. So, I’d say, don’t be too eager to stop wearing the mask. 

---

Share Your Story: The deadline for the 2021 edition of Accidents in North American Climbing is April 30. If you were involved in a climbing accident or rescue in 2020, consider sharing the lessons with other climbers. Let’s work together to reduce the number of accidents. Reach us at [email protected].

The monthly Accidents Bulletin is supported by adidas Outdoor and the members of the American Alpine Club.

The Prescription - February 2021

Highline anchor bolts atop the northwest corner of Castleton Tower, Utah.

The Prescription - February 2021

STRANDED – STUCK RAPPEL ROPES

CASTLETON TOWER, UTAH

Just after sunset on December 4, two male climbers (ages 32 and 36) called 911 to report they were stranded halfway down 400-foot Castleton Tower because their rappel ropes had become stuck. Starting near sunrise, the pair had climbed the classic Kor-Ingalls Route (5.9) on the tower’s south side. They topped out later than expected, with about an hour and a half of daylight left.

Armed with guidebook photos and online beta, they planned to descend via the standard North Face rappels. The two saw a beefy new anchor on top of the northwest corner of the tower and decided this must be the first rappel anchor. Tying two 70-meter ropes together, the first rappeller descended about 200 feet and spotted a bolted anchor 25 feet to his right, with no other suitable anchor before the ends of the ropes. No longer in voice contact with his partner, he ascended a short distance and moved right to reach the bolted anchor. It appeared that one more double-rope rappel would get them to the ground. Once both climbers reached the mid-face anchor, they attempted to pull the ropes. Despite applying full body weight to the pull line, they could not get the ropes to budge.

Contemplating ascending the stuck rope, the climbers realized the other strand had swung out of reach across a blank face. The climbers agreed that recovering the other strand was not safe or practical, nor was climbing the unknown chimney above them in the dark. The climbers were aware the temperature was expected to drop to 15°F overnight, so they made the call for a rescue. They were prepared with a headlamp, warm jackets, hand warmers, and an emergency bivy sack.

A team of three rescuers from Grand County Search and Rescue was transported to the summit via helicopter. One rescuer rappelled to the subjects around 9 p.m. and assisted them in rappelling to the base of the tower. 

ANALYSIS

The rescuers discovered the climbers had mistakenly rappelled from an anchor used to rig a 500-meter highline (slackline) over to the neighboring Rectory formation. Instead of rappelling the North Face, as planned, the climbers had ended up on the less-traveled West Face Route (5.11). Because the highline anchors were not intended for rappelling, friction made it impossible for the climbers to pull their ropes.

Upon reflection, the climbing party identified a number of decisions that could have prevented this misadventure. Had they abandoned the climb and rappelled the Kor-Ingalls Route earlier, they probably would have been down before sunset. Even after finishing the route, heading back down the Kor-Ingalls would have had the advantage of familiarity with the anchor stations rather than rappelling into unknown territory. Lastly, while the highline anchor is quite visible atop the tower, its configuration, set back from the cliff edge with very short chain links, indicates it is not appropriate for a rappel. The climbers may have felt rushed with the setting sun and dropping temperatures, but if they had looked more thoroughly, they likely would have found the North Face rappel station, about 15 feet away . This anchor’s bolts have three or four feet of chain that extend over the edge and attach to large rappel rings, making for an easy pull. (Sources: The climbers, Grand County Search and Rescue, and the Editors.) 

The Hazards of Highline Anchors

As highlines, BASE jumps, and space nets grow in popularity, the number of nonclimbing bolted anchors is on the rise at certain climbing areas, and rescues like this are becoming more prevalent. In fact, this is the second stranding in five years resulting from an attempted rappel using the same highline anchor on Castleton Tower. Two very similar incidents were reported in ANAC 2019: one at Smith Rock, Oregon, and one in Clear Creek Canyon, Colorado.

The highline from Misery Ridge to Monkey Face at Smith Rock. Climbers were stranded in 2018 when they attempted to rappel from the anchors on the left and could not pull their ropes. Photo courtesy of Smithrock.com.

To avoid mistakenly using an anchor that’s not intended for rappelling, study published descriptions of anchor locations carefully. If an anchor does not appear to be set up properly for rappelling—especially when it’s on a very popular formation like Castleton Tower—look around and consider the options before committing to the rappel. 

After word got out about these stranded climbers on Castleton Tower, a local guide removed the chain links from the highline anchor to discourage future incidents. (The links can easily be reinstalled to rig the highline to the Rectory.) Plans are in the works to attach plaques identifying the bolts as a highline anchor.

THE SHARP END: A SKIER’S SCARY SLIDE ON MT. HOOD

Last June, a 25-year-old skier had just begun his descent from Mt. Hood’s summit when he missed a turn and started sliding. Waiting at the bottom was a fumarole: an opening in the volcano’s icy surface that emits steam and noxious gases. In episode 61 of the Sharp End, this skier tells host Ashley Saupe about his accident and ensuing rescue. The Sharp End podcast is sponsored by the American Alpine Club.

Climbers and Fumaroles

Fumarole incidents on Oregon’s Mt. Hood are not uncommon. These dangerous volcanic vents form in the run-out zone below several of Hood’s most popular summit routes. In December 2020, another skier fell through a thin bridge over a fumarole on Mt. Hood. Like the skier in this month’s Sharp End, she was traveling alone, and she was fortunate that bystanders quickly came to her aid. Although traditional crevasse hazard is seldom an issue on Hood’s normal routes, solo climbers and skiers should be acutely aware of fumarole dangers, how to identify them, and their likely locations. For more on Mt. Hood’s common accident types, see “Danger Zones” in ANAC 2018.

OMG! THIS BOLT IS LOOSE!

According to the New River Alliance of Climbers (NRAC) in West Virginia, 75 percent of the “bad bolt” reports it receives are simple cases of loose nuts that could be tightened easily. This fun, one-minute video from the NRAC offers a quick breakdown of what to do when you encounter a loose bolt—which can be tightened and which should be reported to your local climbing organization or BadBolts.com.

MEET THE VOLUNTEERS

Stacia Glenn, Regional Editor for Washington

Years volunteering with Accidents: 5

Stacia Glenn near Washington Pass. Photo by Jon Abbott

Real job: Breaking-news reporter at The News Tribune in Tacoma

Home climbing areas: North Cascades, Exit 38, Vantage/Frenchman Coulee

Favorite type of climbing?

I love single-pitch sport—there's just something about the mental and physical challenge of finding my way up the rock, and that's where I push my ability the furthest. But the overall experience of alpine climbing—the isolation, the mountain views, the promise of adventure—is hard to beat.

How did you first become interested in Accidents?

When I was first learning how to climb, I had no real sense of what could go wrong. As a way to educate and caution me, a friend pointed me to the Accidents publication, and it became a wonderful learning tool. Reading about climbing mishaps and poring over the analysis of why these things happened drove home the seriousness of the sport and instilled a deep appreciation for safety. Editing Accidents and diving into the details of each incident constantly reminds me of these things and has deepened my understanding of techniques.

Personal scariest incident?

I was warming up on a sport route in the Tieton River area, west of Yakima, on a sweltering summer day, and the climb had an extremely high first bolt. As I went to move my left hand, a rock fell from the cliff above and startled me. I lost my grip and fell 22 feet, landing upright and shattering the tibia and fibula in my left leg. I was only falling for seconds, but it felt like the world slowed down as my mind frantically tried to process what was happening and how I could protect myself. So terrifying! 

Share Your Story: The deadline for the 2021 edition of Accidents in North American Climbing is not far off. If you were involved in a climbing accident or rescue in 2020, consider sharing the lessons with other climbers. Let’s work together to reduce the number of accidents. Reach us at [email protected].

The monthly Accidents Bulletin is supported by adidas Outdoor and the members of the American Alpine Club.