The Prescription

The Prescription—June

It’s June and we’ve been busy wrapping up edits on the 2024 Accidents in North American Climbing. If you have an AAC Partner membership or above, you’ll receive the best kind of mail soon–a copy of Accidents, the 2024 American Alpine Journal, and other neat things in a few months. I give thanks to all our volunteers, regional correspondents, and editors, who made this year’s book a reality. I also give deep thanks to those who took the time to submit accident reports. Whether one has personally experienced an accident or is reporting an incident, it is never an easy thing to do.

In closing out the year’s edits I’m reminded of a few things. As with any elective passion, climbing gives us what prudence itself can’t provide—our humanness. While climbing promises a glimpse of the unimaginable and the ineffable, it can also visit us with mishap or tragedy. Gravity constantly teaches us that no matter what gear we use, how much we practice, and how many precautions we take, climbing is dangerous. Stay safe out there.  

This month we feature an accident that will appear in the 2024 ANAC. It took place last September and reminds us that not all climbing misadventures occur while actually climbing.

—Pete Takeda, Editor


(L to R) Mt. Darwin and Mt. Mendel seen from the north near Lamarck Col. These are two of nine 13,000+ foot high peaks that comprise the massive Evolution Traverse (VI, 5.9). The col was the scene of an unusual accident in which a climber was pinned by a large boulder while descending. Photo: Will Keightley | Wikimedia

Pinned Under Boulder

Inyo National Forest, Lamarck Col

Around 12:40 p.m. on September 28, Larsen Tormey (28) was pinned under a large boulder while hiking out after an attempt on the Evolution Traverse (VI, 5.9). His climbing partner, Jacob Ireland (35), was able to free him after several hours, prior to the arrival of SAR.

Ireland wrote to ANAC:

The accident took place five miles from the trailhead. Lars was hiking ahead of me. I was at the top of Lamarck Col when I heard someone yelling. I figured this was Lars, but I couldn’t spot him. As I headed toward the sound the cries grew louder, and I knew that an accident had occurred. When I was directly above his voice, I could hear clearly, “I’m stuck! There’s a rock on me! Please help!”

Larsen Tormey, three hours after being pinned by a large boulder near Lamarck Col. This photo was taken shortly before his partner, in a display of tenacity and prolonged heroics, managed to pull the boulder off. Photo by Jacob Ireland.

I hit the SOS button on my Garmin inReach and started down the broken 4th-class terrain. When I made it to Lars, he explained that, because he carried no traction devices nor ice axe, he had been downclimbing through a small tunnel or cave in the rock to avoid a steep section of hard-packed snow. A boulder the size of a city trash can he had been using as a hold came free. The rock was angled and sharp and plugged the slot so his leg was pinned just below his groin.

The boulder was in the way, so I couldn’t see his injuries and had to rely on what he told me. From what I could tell, one leg was pinned near his groin. It’s hard to recall, but the rock was maybe three feet by three feet and one foot wide.

There was no blood, but Lars believed he was bleeding internally and could not feel his leg. He was lying partly on the ice and was cold and shaking. I did my best to drape a puffy over him. I tried to move the boulder, but this only made him scream. The back of the rock was the obvious place to try moving it, but I quickly realized it wasn’t going to move by hand. I told Lars I was going to try the climbing rope and gear we had brought.

He pleaded with me to just try by hand again, and I did my best to assure him that the rope would be better. I frantically unpacked my gear. I jammed a cam into a crack above us, wrapped the rope around the front of the boulder, and set up a hauling system with my harness and two Micro Traxions.

The next hour was a blur. We tried multiple configurations of the rope and hauling methods. Nothing worked beyond a small amount of movement. One method from the side caused Lars to cry out, “Stop! You’re making it worse!” Between all my attempts, poor Lars begged me to keep trying. Every now and then we made eye contact, and I could see his horror and pain. I’d exhausted myself and started needing longer breaks between tries. My hand was bleeding, so I wrapped it with climbing tape. I had to cut the rope multiple times to quickly fix jams when I’d reset a system. Everything was failing.

I realized my phone had been getting messages. I had cell service and called 911 and relayed information. Lars was screaming at me to keep trying. He didn’t believe help was going to come fast enough. Part of me believed him, so I did my best to talk on the phone and work on the boulder at the same time. Someone from the Inyo SAR team called back and I sent them photos and exact coordinates. They assured me they were on the way.

It had been almost three hours since the boulder fell on Lars, and I was beginning to lose hope. Every failed attempt was devastating. I felt weak and my hips were raw and bruised from the harness. Then, in one adrenaline-fueled attempt, I clipped my harness directly to the rope around the boulder via a sling and pulled to the side. The boulder started to move. My foot gained a bit of new leverage and the boulder moved more. Lars began yelling that he was able to move. “Keep going!” I found a hold in the back of the wall and pulled as hard as I could, screaming from the adrenaline and pain in my waist.

Lars slipped down and behind the boulder to a larger ledge below. He was free and I was ecstatic. I used the rope to swing down to him. He was shaking, cold, and couldn’t feel his leg. I got him flat and bundled up with both sleeping bags and an air mattress under his body. He was in and out of consciousness, but his breathing remained stable. I checked his wound, and to my astonishment it didn’t look worse than a large bruise. Of course, I had no idea what was happening internally.

An hour and a half later, a helicopter appeared and I felt massive relief. The U.S. Army had been flying training missions in the area, and the SAR team was able to use their Chinook helicopter to reach us. They landed at the bottom of the snowfield. An hour later Lars was in the chopper heading for Fresno. He suffered abrasions, major impact trauma, nerve damage, and internal bleeding. He still has trouble making large upward steps, but he is out hiking, biking, and getting back to normal.

Members of the Inyo County Search and Rescue Team package Lars Tormey for helicopter extraction. Photo: Jacob Ireland

ANALYSIS 

I think the main factors in this accident were:

  1. Lack of gear for snow travel: We should have had Microspikes or crampons and an ice axe. With those items, we would have directly descended the snow in Lamarck Col and avoided the loose rock.

  2. Getting separated: With our technical objective behind us, we became complacent. Had we stuck together, we might have chosen a different way or at least been able to help each other sooner. Lars spent almost an hour under the boulder before I found him. Had he been unconscious, I might have passed by and not realized he was missing until hours later.

  3. More knowledge of hauling systems and pulleys: I tried a number of techniques with the climbing gear on hand. A few of these systems moved the boulder, but not enough to free Lars. If I had more knowledge, I could have rigged something to free him faster.

(Source: Jacob Ireland.)


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The Prescription—March 2024

This month we have an unreported accident from a few years ago. This incident occurred at Mt. Woodson near San Diego. A climber atop one of beautiful granite boulders that sprinkle the area was lowering his partner when the unthinkable occurred.

Thibault Philippine leads the mega classic Robbins Crack (5.10a) at Mt. Woodson. This boulder was the scene of a serious lowering accident in 2021. Visible in this image is the sloping summit and the barely discernible anchor bolts, six feet below and to the right of the top. Note: Philippine was not in any way involved in this accident. Photo: Philipp Arndt

Ground Fall | No Belay Anchor

San Diego County, Mt. Woodson

On February 24, 2021, Dawson Riley (21) and his friend (19) were enjoying a day out at Mt. Woodson. Riley, an experienced climber, had taken this friend climbing a few times before. Riley first led the 35-foot route Robbins Crack (5.10a) and attached a quad anchor sling to the bolts atop the large boulder. His friend then followed, with Riley belaying from above on a Grigri. Riley then adjusted the position of the anchor so that they could lower each other and climb Lie Detector (5.12a/b), another crack route (the analog to Robbins Crack) that shares the same bolt anchor. After each climber took a turn on Lie Detector, they sat together on top of the boulder.

Shortly after, Riley removed his quad anchor from the bolts. Unanchored and with the Grigri clipped directly to his harness, Riley began lowering his friend down the Robbins Crack side of the boulder. The rope began feeding rapidly through the Grigri. Riley released the brake handle to block the rope and started to slide off the boulder. Riley fanned out his body in an attempt to increase friction but was quickly launched off the boulder. He fell approximately 25 feet and landed on his right side. His partner, still tied to the end of the rope, had fallen approximately ten feet and was uninjured.

On impact, Riley suffered a seizure and remained unconscious. Others nearby heard his partner yelling for help. They called 911, and nearby CAL FIRE first responders arrived. They placed Riley on a stretcher and onto the flat bed of their truck, then transported him to a nearby airport. There, they met a Mercy Air medical helicopter, who flew him to the Palomar Health trauma center.

Riley sustained multiple injuries including a concussion, an open fracture of both bones in the right forearm, a lung contusion, and three pelvic fractures. He was not wearing a helmet. He required multiple surgeries but has fully recovered and continues to climb.

Dawson Riley sitting atop the Robbins Boulder last week. He has fully recovered from the 2021 accident. As you can see, this time Riley is safely attached to the anchor bolts. Photo: Alex Sanson

Analysis

The Robbins Boulder requires lowering or rappelling to descend. The large and deceptively angled summit can give climbers a false sense of security. Dawson recalled having removed his quad anchor from the bolts while he and his friend sat and relaxed after climbing Lie Detector. The quad anchor gear remained attached to his harness, while his friend remained tied into the rope.

Complacency plays a role in many accidents, and this incident might be no exception. In this case, Riley’s familiarity with the climb (he’d been on top of the Robbins Boulder many times) and the large, comfortable summit belied the hazard. In any perilous position, it is critical to establish and maintain a safe anchor, perform safety checks with your partner, and assess/test the system before detaching from the anchor. It is also wise to redirect the rope through the anchor while lowering another climber from a braking device that is directly attached to the harness. This technique creates extra friction and allows more control of the lowering speed and the force on the belayer.

A safer alternative might have been a rappel from the bolts. As Riley recalls, “Looking back, the only way I had descended the route [previously] was by rappelling. On that day, my brain wanted to lower my partner because I noticed he was still tied in and the rope was running through my Grigri. But muscle memory was getting me ready to rappel, so I removed the quad then began lowering without registering that I was unanchored.” 

(Source: Dawson Riley.)


Learn More About Safe Lowering Techniques

John Godino at Alpine Savvy has created climbing and navigation content for years. Below are some good tips on lowering at alpinesavvy.com.


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The Prescription—October

We are approaching the prime season for El Potrero Chico in northern Mexico. This month’s incident took place earlier this year on one of the most sought-after routes in this sport climbing paradise. The classic Time Wave Zero is perhaps the second-longest sport route in North America.

Belay Failure From Above

El Potrero Chico, Nuevo León, Mexico

Time Wave Zero, which climbs the buttress and headwall on the left side of this formation, is over 2,000 feet long and has a fully bolted crux that can be easily aided. These two factors make it a relatively popular route. Photo: Tony Bubb

“On March 14, 2023, my friend (the belayer) and I (Liu Yuezhang, 26) headed to Time Wave Zero (2,000’, III 5.12a or 5.11 A0) in El Potrero Chico (EPC) to check out the approach and prepare for a full attempt a few days later. Our plan was to try the moves of the first two pitches before returning to the ground. While following the second pitch (95’, 5.11b, nine bolts), I experienced a belay failure from above, hitting my right lower back, head, and both elbows as I fell. I was rescued by the EPC rescue team and local climbers. Miraculously, I was not seriously injured.

We had reached the crag around noon. It was drizzling, so there were not many climbers heading out. We were glad to meet two female climbers at an area close to Time Wave. They eventually performed the rescue. I led the first pitch (100’, 5.7, four bolts) and belayed my friend up. We switched leads and my friend led the second pitch, set up the belay, and notified me to follow.

My partner was belaying in guide mode off the bolted anchor (see Fig. 1). He double-checked the system by pulling on the climber’s side of the rope. I climbed to the eighth bolt. Earlier, I had noted that the crux was between the eighth and ninth bolt, so I decided to check out the moves. I said, "Take." I was on the rope around five to ten seconds when I suddenly began to free-fall. I remember the sky moving further and further away, so I must have been falling face up, with my back downward. I thought I was going die.

The belayer remembers releasing both hands at one point, after which the climber’s side of rope began to run rapidly through the ATC. In a panic, he attempted to hold the climber’s side, rather than the belayer’s side of the rope. His right hand got seriously burned. Eventually, the rope (9.5mm, 70m, almost new) stuck inside the belay device (Black Diamond ATC Guide, with Black Diamond RockLock screwgate carabiner) and I was stopped in a slabby area, around ten feet below the pitch 1 anchor. The falling distance was around 60–85 feet.

From my injuries, I inferred that I hit my lower right back on a bulge first, then struck the back side of my head and both elbows before sliding down the slab. My neck and tongue were also slightly impaired by the impact. Due to amnesia, I could not recall some details of the fall. I was wearing a helmet, backpack, and long-sleeve jacket. I noticed climbers approaching on the ground to provide help. Then, in what seemed to be the next second, they were above, readying to lower me. According to the belayer, I repeatedly asked “Where am I?” and said “Record the accident scene.”

The belayer spent around ten minutes trying to feed slack efficiently after I was connected to the rescuer, but I also did not recall this. My consciousness came back to normal while being lowered, but I still experienced some long-term memory loss. The rescue team performed a rapid response, and I was carried on a stretcher to an ambulance. This took around 30 minutes. I was sent to the emergency room in Monterrey and luckily was not seriously injured. I would like to express my utmost gratitude to the EPC rescue team and local climbers for the speedy rescue, especially Juliet. She was one of the female climbers we met earlier, who re-led the first pitch and lowered me down.”

—Liu Yuezhang

ANALYSIS

Yuezhang wrote:

“There were a few mistakes made. One error was when the belayer released both hands while belaying from above. This should be strictly prohibited even with an [assisted-braking] system. Also, the fall could have been caught if he had pulled the correct (belayer’s) side of the rope.

“Besides the above two obvious errors, we next tried to analyze the cause of the autoblock system failure. The ATC setting from the accident is shown in Fig. 1” (below).

Fig. 1 This is a screenshot of the actual anchor and belay configuration immediately following the accident. Photo: Courtesy of Liu Yuezhang

Yuezhang added:

From the photo, we can confirm that the ATC was set correctly (left strand is the belayer side and right strand is the climber side). The climber’s side was initially on top, and eventually got stuck beside the belayer’s side due to the falling impact. After some experiments, we found that the autoblock system might fail if (i) there was a horizontal component force pulling outward, since the belay station was above a bulge, and (ii) the wire of the ATC was stuck by something on the cliff. A repeat experiment is shown in Fig 2 (below). Again, this scenario is very unusual and can be avoided by always having a hand on the belayer’s side.”

Fig. 2 This shows how the ATC orientation can potentially allow the rope to run through the device in guide-mode. Photo: Liu Yuezhang

Yuezhang concludes:

“I was the more experienced climber in the team (one year of trad, multiple years of ice and sport climbing) and received training in multi-pitch climbing from an IFMGA guide. The belayer was the stronger, but less experienced, sport/gym climber. He had no experience of multi-pitch climbing before the trip. To compensate the experience difference, we held two educational sessions in a gym and completed two multi-pitch routes together. At EPC, we climbed several multi-pitch routes while safely switching leads. I emphasized the importance of keeping a hand on the belay side of the rope, even while in autoblock mode. Due to the limited experience with the ATC Guide, the belayer failed to react properly. Also, always wear a helmet. Mine saved me from more severe injuries.”(Source: Liu Yuezhang)


Editor’s Note:

It is possible that when Yuezhang called “take,” the belayer may have grabbed the bight carabiner (or the ATC retaining wire) to disengage the rope/carabiner/device in order to more easily take up slack through the device. While this is not recommended by the manufacturer, it is not an uncommon technique. Yuezhang recalls, “If my memory serves me, the belayer told me he first pulled the slack when I called ‘take.’” Thus, it is plausible that the belayer, finding it difficult to pull in slack, disengaged the rope. When the bight carabiner or retaining wire is pulled upward, it also orients the rope perpendicular to the top of the ATC (as shown in Fig. 2 above). In this case, the ATC might have been pulled horizontally. If the belayer did just that, while Yuezhang momentarily shifted his weight on and off the rope, the rope could have begun to slip rapidly through the ATC (see Fig. 3 below).

We know that the belayer, now panicking, mistakenly grabbed the follower’s side of the rope in a vain attempt to arrest the fall. His grip may have prevented the device from loading, that is, until excruciating rope burns forced him to release the rope. At this point, the rope locked in the now loaded ATC. The newness of the rope also probably played a role in the accident. Note that in the video below and in Fig. 1, the climber side of the rope is loaded adjacent to the brake side, not on top, as per the intended design. This is probably due to force of the fall and the slickness/diameter of the fresh rope. Extra caution must be taken with any braking or belay device when using a thin and slick rope.

Fig. 3 If the bight carabiner or retaining wire of the device is caught or held upward, and the climber’s side rope is loaded while perpendicular to the top of the ATC, the device can fail to catch. Video: Liu Yuezhang


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The Prescription—September

We are entering the prime season for climbing on the East Coast, so this month we’re featuring an incident that took place on Moss Cliff in upstate New York. Don Mellor, climbing guide and author of American Rock and Climbing in the Adirondacks, calls Moss Cliff “among the most appealing rock walls in the Northeast." Such an attractive crag has its inevitable share of mishaps. The following report appears in the 2023 edition of Accidents in North American Climbing, which is being mailed to AAC members this month, and has been expanded here with more information from the ranger involved in the rescue.

Guidebook author Don Mellor calls Moss Cliff “…the most Adirondack of all Adirondack crags.” Hard Times (5.9+) is drawn in red. The stranded climbers were stuck at the pitch-two belay. Photo by Jim Lawyer.

STRANDED | Stuck Rappel Ropes

Adirondacks, Moss Cliff

At 6:30 p.m. on October 16, 2022, the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation (DEC) rangers received a call from two climbers who were stranded on Moss Cliff in Wilmington Notch within Adirondack State Park. Moss Cliff is a 400-plus-foot face with a 30-minute approach that involves fording a small river.

The two climbers had topped out on a four-pitch trad climb called Hard Times (5.9+) and had completed their first double-rope rappel from the bolted rappel station at the top of the final pitch. When the climbers went to pull their ropes after the first rappel, the rope would not budge. After repeated attempts to pull the ropes down, the climbers considered themselves to be stranded and used a cell phone to contact rangers.

DEC ranger Robbi Mecus was able to talk to the subjects via cell phone and instruct them. She determined that the subjects still had both ends of the rope, and that it would be possible for one of them to use prusiks to climb the ropes back to the anchor. However, the climbers did not have prusik loops and were unfamiliar with techniques for ascending a rope. Mecus was able to coach the climbers by phone on how to use their sewn slings as prusiks. She then instructed them to create two prusik loops: one short one attached to the harness and one long one as a foot loop. She also instructed them to tie in to the ropes directly every few feet as a backup should the prusik attached at the waist fail. The climbers completed one round of practice with Mecus on the phone, and then one of them prusiked to the top of the climb to free the rope from the crack in which it had been stuck.  

Mecus instructed the subjects to pull the knot joining their two ropes down past the obstruction and place a nut in the crack to prevent another stuck rope. They were able to retrieve their ropes and finish their descent. She stayed on the phone with the subjects while she herself approached the cliff to ensure the subjects were following her directions. The subjects had left their headlamps in their packs at the base of the cliff, not expecting to be caught in the dark. This oversight exacerbated the situation. Mecus then assisted the subjects across the west branch of the Ausable River and back to the trailhead.

ANALYSIS

More people are learning to climb in the gym or on sport routes. Thus, they can become stronger climbers much faster than in the past, without learning the foundational skills associated with outdoor traditional climbing. These climbers were very capable, successfully climbing a four-pitch 5.9+ trad route, but were not familiar with the relatively basic rope ascension techniques they needed to ascend and free the rope.  

Investing in self-rescue skills is an important part of transitioning from gym to crag. These can be learned through mentorship (informally or with a guide), through self-rescue courses, or even by reading a book or watching YouTube videos on self-rescue. A few minutes invested in learning and practicing how to ascend a rope with prusiks would have prevented the need for the rangers to be called. The climbers were right to have brought a cell phone and used it to call for help. Had they been unable to receive help by phone, the climbers’ situation would have turned significantly more dire, as they would have been stuck several hundred feet up the face for the night or longer.

As this incident demonstrates, you never know when you may be unexpectedly delayed. The climbers in this incident did not have headlamps and were unprepared to be out after dark. As a general precaution, always bring a headlamp when multi-pitch climbing. Stashing a small headlamp in the bottom of a chalk bag is a great way to ensure you always have one with you.  

(Sources: New York State Department of Environmental Conservation Forest Rangers and the Editors.)

FaceTime and SARTopo

Mecus used FaceTime to communicate with the climbers and visually demonstrate techniques, as she has on other rescues. She recalls one such incident: “A hiking party with an injured individual (dislocated finger) was asking for a ranger to hike out to them. I was able to look at the injury (via FaceTime) and with a good interview determined it was dislocated. I instructed them how to reduce the dislocation, sling and swath the arm, and walk themselves out. Pretty simple.”

Mecus uses other technologies to help people get themselves out of trouble in the mountains and woods—technologies that help conserve precious ranger resources. She says, “With better cell phone coverage comes the ability to send a lost person a link to a SARTopo application. This allows us to see them on a map as they move.” SARTopo, a version of CalTopo, is a widely used, collaborative online and offline mapping tool; the program name SARTopo is being phased out in favor of CalTopo.

For background on SARTopo (CalTopo), click here.

SARTopo is a web-based version of CalTopo with SAR-specific enhancements, including a variety of map layers and overlays. 

For a consumer overview of SARTopo (CalTopo) and a how-to tutorial, click here.

DEC ranger Robbi Mecus says, “Improved cell coverage obviously has impacts on our ability to talk to stranded or injured climbers.”

While cell service has improved in recent years deep in the Adirondacks, you can’t count on a phone in remote areas and should still carry an inReach or other satellite-based communication device. Nonetheless, Mecus says, “Within the past seven or eight years, certain spots on Wallface, our tallest and most remote wilderness cliff, can hit a cell tower. Wallface is six miles from the nearest trailhead and 800 feet tall. A few years ago, we had a seriously injured climber hanging on pitch two of an eight-pitch 5.8 after taking a 60-foot fall. Their friend on the ground was able to find cell service and call dispatch. We were able to insert myself and a volunteer climber via helicopter at the base, climb up to the party, package and lower the subject to the ground, and perform a helicopter hoist extraction. The climber was in the hospital within five hours of his accident. Without the improved cell coverage, he would’ve been hanging suspended on the cliff all night. I'm not sure he could've survived his injuries.”

Read the ANAC report from the Wallace incident here.


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The Prescription—August 2023

We are about to enter the prime big-wall season for Yosemite Valley, so this month we’re featuring a big-wall mishap. Last year, a solo aid climber suffered a serious leader fall on a classic Yosemite wall. He used a bit of know-how and perseverance to help effect his own rescue. This report will appear in the upcoming 2023 edition of Accidents in North American Climbing.

Fall on Rock

Yosemite National Park, Washington Column

On June 28, at 10:59 a.m., Yosemite Dispatch received a report of a 42-year-old male who had taken an approximately 50-foot fall on The Prow (V 5.8 C2) on Washington Column. The climber’s plan had been a multi-day, aid-solo ascent. On the second pitch, the climber fell, ripped rock protection, and struck a ledge. He recalled, “I felt the sensation of falling—it was so sudden and so fast. Then I remember hitting a ledge hard, bouncing, sliding. I remember hitting two more small ledges on the way down.”

Washington Column. The Prow is a classic aid route and excellent primer for El Cap. It climbs the smooth, golden plaque of rock on the right side of the formation. Photo: xRez Studio

The climber was finally caught by his rope. He had sustained closed injuries to his head, knee, and ankle. He also had one open injury to his thigh that he tied off with an improvised tourniquet. He wrote, “I could not breathe in all the way. Possible lung injury—it felt like fractured ribs. Can’t do anything about that, other than controlled breathing. Next, I looked around and saw the deep laceration on my inner left thigh. This one I was worried about! I had flesh hanging out that I put back in, and I stopped the bleeding with my bandana. Then I checked my limbs. The hands, feet, neck, and back seemed okay.”

He began to ascend his rope in order to reach his cell phone to call for help. He recalled, “I had to get my phone from my haulbag, which was above me about 50 feet. I thought, if I were to get rescued it would be easier for YOSAR to get me from the ground and not on the side of the wall. I did not have my jumars with me because I was leading. So, I used two prusiks, one that I had and the second one that doubled as my belt for my chalk bag. I untangled myself from the ropes, backed myself up with a Grigri, and began the painful journey up to my phone. I finally arrived at the belay station [and the phone], quickly set up for a rappel, fixed both the lead and haul line, and got down to the beginning of the climbing, which starts at the top of a 4th-class section.”  

The YOSAR hasty team located him at the top of the 4th class and provided necessary care. Soon a technical rescue team of four arrived and rigged to lower the injured climber down to the bottom of the cliff. From an open, grassy area between the South Face and Astroman routes, the climber was short-hauled by helicopter and transferred to a hospital.

Editor’s Note: In 2016, another climber fell from a similar section of aid on the nearby South Face route, when a cam pulled from a flared piton scar. That climber also ripped several pieces before coming to a stop. Take extra care placing cams in pin scars. Offset nuts, offset cams, and Totem cams often have superior holding power in these flared/grooved placements. Read the 2016 report.

The first few pitches of The Prow follow classic yet tricky piton-scarred cracks and corners. Extra care must be taken when placing gear in such flared placements. Photo by Ryan Meyers.

Analysis

“A piece for you and a piece for Mom,” as they say. Climbing above ledges is a heads-up moment—the threat of falling and getting traumatically injured is very real. As climbers, what can we do to make climbing above ledges safer? Backing up pieces is one option. Also, be aware of how much slack is in your system.

Other takeaways:

Bring a medical kit. A light medical kit while climbing could be a life saver. Ideally, it is never used, but it’s always wise to be prepared for an accident. A little tape, some pain meds, and gauze go a long way.

Practice and be familiar with self-rescue techniques. During this rescue, the injured climber did an excellent job of helping himself. Even after sustaining several injures, he was able to improvise gear, ascend his line, and rappel down the cliff. His self-rescue skills made the whole operation much faster and more efficient. Study self-rescue skills and practice with friends, or consider taking a self-rescue course.

Climb with a partner. While some enjoy the extra challenge of climbing alone, there’s no denying that aid soloing introduces more risk and complexity to a climb. Consider climbing with a partner for a safer climb, or at least acknowledge the added risk of climbing alone. Is it worth it?

The climber offered some final thanks and advice for others: “I cannot thank YOSAR, all the medical professionals, and all my friends and family who helped me and are helping through this event. I feel that even though being super prepared is a must, life just happens! I encourage all climbers to learn basic self-rescue skills.”

(Source: Yosemite National Park Climbing Rangers.)


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With three spotters and five crash pads, Emily Diamond can safely launch into the crux of Heartbreak Hotel (V2). Photo by Pete Takeda.

From the Editor: On the Small(er) Rocks

I’m a week into a bouldering trip to Squamish. It’s peak season in terms of number of climbers, but it’s a little early for good conditions, that brief period in which cool temperatures converge with low humidity.

Bouldering is my first love. As a teenager, I started climbing in an abandoned quarry. Over the years I would learn that the spirit of climbing is in its movement and all I would need learn of any style of ascent could be traced back to those boulders. We wore painter’s pants and carbon rubber (non-sticky) high-tops called EB’s—pretty much the only performance rock shoe of the time. This was in the pre-pad days and spotting was unheard of. While bouldering, I managed to suffer my first serious accident—fracturing my leg at the age of 16.

Today, while topping out a classic highball, I have a half-dozen pads below, along with a handful of attentive spotters. That said, I am reminded that climbing on the small(er) stones, though generally regarded as safe, arguably holds a higher injury potential than any other facet of climbing. My reasoning is:

1. Move for move, bouldering is the most difficult game in climbing.

2. Bouldering is quite popular and exposes the largest number of climbers to the largest number of falls.

3. Every bouldering fall is a ground fall. 

4. Crowds can create a false sense of security.

5. The uninhibited and maximal physical effort demanded by bouldering can draw attention from critical peripheral matters, like pad placement, spotting, and falling.

Boulderers hit the ground more than in any other genre. While these accidents do not incur fatalities (at least that I am aware of), nor prompt spectacular rescues, they do have a huge impact on our community.

I encourage anyone experiencing or witnessing a bouldering accident to report them here.

While we annually publish a few bouldering accidents—the vast majority of them result in lower-leg and/or wrist/arm injuries, and the vast majority self-rescue—obtaining data is important. It is prudent to reinforce best practices. Read more on bouldering safely here.


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Prescription—July

Mt. Assiniboine is nicknamed the "Matterhorn of the Rockies." Both peaks share an imposing geometry—and plenty of loose limestone. On August 12, 2022, a climber fell to his death (yellow line) from the popular and “moderate” North Ridge route after slipping from a slick handhold. Photo courtesy of Parks Canada

Fatal Slip on Rock | Climbing Unroped

British Columbia, Assiniboine Provincial Park

On August 12, 2022, a party of two climbers left the Hind Hut to ascend the North Ridge of Mt. Assiniboine (AD 5.5). By late morning, they had reached one of the steeper upper steps at about 3,500 meters (11,482 feet). The pair had soloed everything up to this point and arrived several minutes apart. The first climber to arrive (Climber 1) assessed the next step and determined they would likely use a rope due to the steep angle and sloping nature of some of the holds. When Climber 2 arrived, the pair took a break and considered their options. Meanwhile, a separate party downclimbed the step. This party was unroped.

After watching the other party downclimb, Climber 2 decided he would try soloing the step and started up the pitch while Climber 1 packed the rope. As Climber 2 started up, Climber 1 watched him grab a sloping hold, slip, and fall down the north face. He fell out of sight. Climber 1 tried to gain a better vantage point by carefully climbing to the top of the rock step but was not able to see his partner. He then triggered an SOS on his satellite communication device. At the top of the step, he met a guided group on their way down. The guide radioed for assistance and helped Climber 1 down to a flat ledge. After communicating with the rescue team, it was determined that the guided group would remain with Climber 1 and wait for a rescue.

A team arrived by helicopter approximately one hour later and located Climber 1 and the guided group. Two other guided parties were located near the summit, and the deceased, fallen climber was located at approximately 3,300 meters (10,826’). After surveying the scene, it was determined that all the parties would be removed prior to accessing the fallen climber, in order to minimize rockfall hazard to the rescuers below. All climbers were flown or slung down to the Hind Hut, and the fallen climber was then accessed and slung down to the hut as well.

The uninjured climber who lost his partner to a fatal fall waits for rescue below the steep upper step on the North Ridge of Mt Assiniboine. Photo courtesy of Parks Canada

Analysis

The North Ridge of Mt. Assiniboine is often soloed due to its low technical difficulty. However, it requires a great deal of care and experience to climb safely. The route is very exposed, and a route-finding mistake can quickly elevate the technical grade. Loose, sloping, or slippery rock is common. While the route was dry on this day, snow, ice, or verglas are common in the upper sections.

While we cannot know with certainty why Climber 2 decided to solo the steep step, prior to the ascent he had expressed interest in climbing the route unroped. His decision may have been influenced by watching the other unroped party. Fatigue and limited technical rock climbing experience may have also played a part. Whatever influenced his decision, this incident highlights the risks involved in soloing exposed terrain. Easy terrain can prove fatal.

Communications during this incident were very good, in large part due to the guided parties (who had radios) and a satellite communication device. The rescue team was able to coordinate the pickup of the three groups, thereby eliminating the potential for human-generated rockfall during the recovery. It is not always possible to remove other climbing parties from an accident scene. If you find yourself in a situation where a rescue is occurring nearby or below you, it is very important to remain stationary or move with extreme care to prevent rockfall hazard. (Source: Parks Canada.)

This accident is eerily similar to another we reported in 2017.


Resources for Loss

Climbing is inherently dangerous, but that does not make loss easier. If you are struggling after the loss of a loved one, check out our Climbing Grief Fund Directory. Whatever you are facing, we believe you are worthy of hope, effective therapy, and access to the best mental health resources.


Updates on Auto Belays

In January 2023, we reported an auto belay accident that sadly occurs with some frequency. This accident had a happy ending and contained a powerful lesson.

Last month, the Climbing Wall Association (CWA) released updated Auto Belay Guidance in hope of reducing auto belay incidents and improve the culture of responsibility in the sport of climbing. The CWA is a trade association dedicated to protecting, connecting, and educating the indoor climbing industry.

Along with its updated guidance, the CWA released a commissioned study conducted by Prof. Jon Heshka of Thompson Rivers University, titled “Understanding Climber Behaviour in Climbing Gyms.” The study sheds light on climbers’ behavior and attitudes toward auto belay usage and climbing gyms in general.


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The Prescription — June 2023

This report will soon be published in ANAC, 2023. It is a dramatic story of a climber who narrowly avoided death. It is also a cautionary tale of a hazard that can strike even well-seasoned experts.

Rappel Anchor Failure

Wind River Range, Cirque of the Towers, Wolf's Head

The Cirque of the Towers is a popular alpine rock destination. It is home to two of the hallowed Fifty Classic Climbs of North America. One of those routes climbs the big rock tower on the right—Pingora. The other, the East Ridge of Wolfs Head, climbs the sunlit ridge of the formation to the left. 

Photo by Kylir Horton—Wikimedia Commons

On July 6, 2022, Alex Satonik (35) and Peter Haley (29) climbed the classic East Ridge of Wolf's Head (10 pitches, 5.6). The climb was uneventful. Satonik wrote to the ANAC that, “We arrived at the summit around 11 a.m. We had a brief rest and then started the standard descent route.

“The first two rappels were easy to find, and the cordage looked good on both. After some scrambling across the west face we found the next two sets of rappel anchors, again deeming the cordage to be in reasonable condition. After more sideways scrambling we arrived at the fifth rappel. I inspected the visible sections of the cordage on the anchor, two lengths of 5mm to 6mm cordalette. I yanked hard on the anchor. The cord held the pull and handled well. It did not show indications of severe sun damage. However, it was wedged into a crack and I could not see the back side of the material.

“I threaded the rope. After checking my ATC, I loaded the rope and sat back. Almost immediately, I was accelerating downward at 9.8m/s. Roughly halfway down, my feet impacted a small ledge, causing me to somersault. I landed on a ledge at the bottom of the rappel, mostly on my back and left side. I had fallen about 50 feet. 

“I immediately knew I was badly injured. I heard my partner calling out. I had an older Personal Locator Beacon (PLB) that didn't have two-way communication capability. My partner activated the beacon. He also called 911 via normal cell phone. SAR responded that their helicopter was already out on a rescue, but would refuel and be at our location in an hour. During the wait, I untangled myself from the rope and did a self-assessment. I had broken both legs, with an open fracture on the right. I had some painful spots on my back, and my right arm was weak. I had also broken my helmet into three pieces and had multiple facial lacerations.

“I did my best to communicate my injuries to my partner, who relayed them to the 911 dispatcher. Roughly an hour after calling in, we heard the helicopter. They located us quickly and landed down by a lake to rig a longline for a pick off. At this time a second party showed up at the failed rap station, where my partner was. The helicopter came and a rescuer dropped onto my ledge. The rescuer attempted to splint my legs with some foam supports and got a three-point seat harness under me. We clipped into the long line, and the helicopter lifted us off the mountain.  

“It was a short flight down to the flat landing area near the lake where the SAR team transferred me into a soft litter and loaded me in the back of the helicopter. Five minutes later, I was at the Pinedale clinic. A day and a half later I woke up in a hospital in Idaho Falls. All told, I had broken my tibia and fibula in both legs, my right arm, right thumb, two vertebrae, the orbital bone over my left eye, and the bridge of my nose. I ended up staying in the hospital just short of a month. The doctors were confident that I would be able to walk on my own by winter, although my ankle strength and mobility will be permanently affected.”

ANALYSIS

Satonik suffered simple bad luck when the rappel anchor failed. There are many rappel stations scattered in various locations on the Wolf’s Head descent. These and other soft rappel stations in the high country suffer from UV degradation and in this case, abrasion and cutting due to the expansion and contraction of anchor blocks. Climber Thomas Gilmore used the same descent two months later. He wrote ANAC, “The team that had the anchor failure, may or may not have been on the ‘standard’ anchor. But, as you can see from the image below, one of the ‘standard’ anchors, the regular stations are garbage too.” 

These old slings comprise either the third or fourth rappel anchor on Wolf’s Head. In a “pinch point,” anchor such as this (similar to Satonik’s failed anchor), the area of contact between large rocks provides security for a thread or sling. Over time, these anchors can become hazardous. Gilmore wrote ANAC, 'This was taken after that accident. Unfortunately, I forgot to grab a picture of the anchor that blew. The rappel route really needs some love.’"

Photo by Thomas Gilmore.

Satonik wrote the ANAC that, “I remember there were double aluminum rings on two pieces of 5mm or 6mm cord, one green and one orange. My suspicion is that on the backside of the block, the cord must have been damaged, likely from being run over an edge. But since the loop was wedged firmly into a crack, I couldn't slide it around to investigate the hidden material. But it is also on me that I choose to use that anchor as is. Based on the damage to my helmet and other facial trauma, I would have died had the helmet not been on my head.”

*Editor’s Note: It is prudent to bring and use extra cordelette to back up anchors. Bring a knife to cut and clean old weathered webbing. In 2022, there were three reported rappel accidents caused by aging slings/cords, causing three deaths. Satonik was fortunate to avoid being the fourth fatality. He wrote to ANAC that, “While falling, I definitely bounced off at least two ledges. That took out some of the kinetic energy out of the impact, compared to 50 feet of uninterrupted acceleration.”

In the image above and in Satonik’s description, aluminum rappel rings are seen or mentioned. These rings vary in manufacture and can range from very strong (25 Kn) to very weak (1.5 Kn). Beware rappel rings with visible wear, especially in the old rolled variety. These are recognized by a seam, running along the entire circumference of the ring. Best practice is to use a locking carabiner or a quicklink in place of the ring. At the minimum, back up the ring with a carabiner clipped through all the available slings. Please do not pilfer fixed carabiners. (Source: Alex Satonik.)


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The Prescription — April 2023

This month we have an unusual rappel accident. While this story has a happy ending, we cannot be absolutely certain of the accident’s cause. However, one theory seems to check all the boxes. For more details, read on.

Rappel Failure | Rope Became Unclipped from Anchor

Utah, Provo, Rock Canyon

The Kitchen in Rock Canyon with rappel/belay anchor circled in red. This was where the accident happened last September. Photo by John Ross.

On September 3, 2022, Kyra Harames (female, 24) was climbing with a group of friends at The Kitchen in Rock Canyon. After setting up a top-rope, she fell to the ground while rappelling from the two-bolt anchor.

Harames reported to ANAC, “I remember everything leading up to my actual fall, and the rest of the details my friends filled in. At about 8 a.m., I successfully led Panic City (5.11a). After I set up that route with a top-rope, a couple of my friends started climbing it. I then hiked to the top to set up another route called Left Corner (5.9). I clipped in my daisy chain as a safety with a locking carabiner. I set up the top-rope using two wiregate quickdraws on the same bolt. I put both strands of rope through my belay device to rappel and used a locking carabiner. I checked the rappel and put my weight on the belay device/rope before taking off my safety. Everything seemed good, so I proceeded to rappel. The last thing I remember is lowering myself a couple of feet, and that is when I fell.

“The rope came out of the quickdraws, and I fell about 35 feet. My friends said when I hit the ground, they could hear the air leave my lungs. I briefly landed on my feet at an angle, and then landed on my back. One of my friends called 911. Shortly after that, I lost consciousness. A nearby climber came over and couldn't find a pulse. My close friend Alivia did CPR and less than a minute later, I regained consciousness. The ambulance came really quick. A friend ran down to make sure the gate was open for the ambulance and it was able to drive up all the way to me.

“I have a very vague memory of being in the ambulance. I didn't know what had happened, but I had a dream that I was climbing. My first solid post-fall memory was when I woke up in the trauma room. I had no idea what had happened. The nurses filled me in. I got stitches in my foot and elbow, as well as staples in my head. I had a compression fracture on my T11 [vertebra], a mild concussion, bruised ribs, and a fractured talus bone in my ankle. I stayed for a day and a half for monitoring and pain control. The reason I went into cardiac arrest after my fall is believed to be caused by a phenomenon called commotio cordis. This is when an impact to the chest occurs during a short vulnerable window in the cardiac electrical cycle. 

“A week later, I received surgery to repair my talus and they put two screws in my ankle. I took a leave of absence from medical school to recover from my concussion and other injuries. 

“Currently, I have made a full recovery physically and mentally. I have caught up on medical school and have started to climb again. So far, I have only top-roped in indoor gyms, but hope to go back to climbing outside. I am thankful for my friends and family for helping me through my recovery and everything I learned from my experience. It truly was a miracle.” 

ANALYSIS

Two strands of rope were running through Harames’ belay device, which was attached to her harness with a locking carabiner. The entire rope was on the ground after the fall occurred. The quickdraws were still attached to the anchor. 

Harames writes, “Looking back on it, my friends and I have tried to figure out why the rope came out of the quickdraws. It is possible that they were facing the same way, which may have contributed to the rope unclipping itself as I rappelled. I believe this could've been prevented using locking carabiners.” 

In principle, Harames did the right thing by using two draws at a bolt belay. However, she made a fundamental error in using only one of the available bolts. Sport belay stations almost always have a minimum of two bolts. Always incorporate both in any anchor system.

Why did Harames not do so? One clue might lie in the positioning of the belay bolts and the style of hanger used. The bolts here are on either side of a small arete, positioned in such a way as to allow top-roping on both Left Corner and Mark’s Corner (5.7) to the right. Harames later wrote, “I don't remember why I clipped the rope to only one bolt, I might not have seen the other bolt around the corner a little bit.” 

The waist level belay bolts for Left Corner and Mark’s Corner have horizontal hangers with welded steel rings. Photo by John Ross.

Setting up a top-rope with the rope through at least one locking carabiner is always a good idea. (Many climbers always carry an “anchor draw” constructed with locking carabiners for exactly this purpose.) If you don’t have a locker, it’s important to oppose the gates on the carabiners through which the rope is running. 

It is extremely unlikely that simply leaning back on two anchor quickdraws would cause them to come unclipped. If this were so, any link in the belay chain using a rope clipped to a carabiner—a quickdraw on a run-out sport route for instance—would be suspect. Nonetheless, the best practice is to oppose the carabiners, because there are scenarios where for the rope could unclip—see the photos for an example.

Another factor that comes into play is the height of the anchor. When one stands atop Left Corner, the anchor bolts are at waist level. This height might have contributed to this very unlikely accident. As one pulls up the slack on an ATC-style rappel device, it is possible that the tightening loop of rope can wrap around the carabiner gates—see the video. This is made more possible if the quickdraws lie parallel to the rock surface and incorporate both stiff sling material and pronounced bent gates on the lower, rope-bearing carabiner (typical in most modern high-performance draws).

Patrick Begley wrote on mountainproject.com that if two draws on bolted anchors were oriented in parallel rather than gates opposite, “complete detachment of the rope is certainly possible, especially if the climber was firmly gripping the draws in preparation to weight the rappel.” Begley is an aerospace engineer, an AMGA Single Pitch Instructor, and Apprentice Rock Guide. Photo by Patrick Begley.

While unlikely, this scenario is possible when stiff, captive lower carabiner quickdraws are both clipped to a single point. Begley wrote, “It was quite difficult to replicate.” Photo by Patrick Begley.

Video Analysis

If a picture is worth 1,000 words, then a video is worth 10,000. Here, Begley demonstrates this unusual scenario. Video by Patrick Begley.

TAKEAWAYS

  1. Always incorporate two or more bolts into any anchor system.

  2. Weight test the rappel anchor. Put your weight on the belay/rappel device and rope before you unclip your PAS or other backup. Though Harames did this, it’s possible she did it while holding the draws in the manner depicted in Begley’s photos.

  3. Consider using locking carabiners and a cordelette or long sling. AlpineSavvy climbing guide John Godino’s website has some good resources on cordelettes and clipping the horizontal-style ring hanger as found on Left Corner.

  4. Oppose the carabiners, especially if you’re not using lockers.

(Sources: Kyra Harames, John Ross, Patrick Begley.)


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The Prescription — March 2023

This month we have a dramatic story that speaks to the strengths of our outdoor community. When Will Toor, the executive director of the Colorado Energy Office, and his wife, Mariella Colvin, a philosophy teacher at the University of Colorado, took a tumble, fellow climbers and hikers came to their aid.

We also cover a remarkable free solo incident below.

Fall on Snow | Climbing Unroped

Colorado, Rocky Mountain National Park, Flattop Mountain

A National Guard helicopter swoops in to evacuate Will Toor. He recalled, “It was raining and windy. This was super-skilled flying, and the helicopter took some real risks to save me.” Photo by Markian Feduschak.

On July 10, 2022, Will Toor (60) and his wife, Mariella Colvin (59), fell down the East Couloir (II, AI2 or 65°snow) on the north face of Flattop Mountain. At the top, a cornice collapsed, causing Toor to fall. The dislodged debris struck Colvin and they both tumbled 900 feet. Colvin left her immobilized husband to try to get help, bushwhacking nearly two miles despite having suffered broken ribs, a broken sternum, a broken wrist, and three fractured vertebrae. While she was gone, two climbers on an adjacent peak came over to assist Toor and summoned a National Park Service rescue. Toor was helicoptered out with a broken femur. Colvin was evacuated the next day.

Toor recalls: “Mariella and I arrived at the couloirs around 11:30 a.m. and spent some time examining conditions. We planned to climb the 1,200-foot-long East Couloir. The cornices at the top had not fully melted out, but there was a portion in the middle with a reasonable looking exit—maybe 80 feet of very steep snow, before turning almost vertical for ten feet. 

Mariella Colvin climbing in couloir prior to the accident. Photo by Will Toor.

“It was a warm day, and because of the timed entry permit, we did not get an early start. But the couloir had been in shade down low, and the snow was good for kicking steps. I was maybe ten feet ahead of Mariella most of the time. We wore helmets and crampons. We had packs with some warm clothing. We did not bring a rope or pickets (to keep our packs lighter). We did not have satellite devices, only cellphones.

“We traversed the lower sections of the couloir but largely went straight up as it steepened. Just below the top, we stopped on a ledge and got out our second tools. We talked about traversing left to a lower-angle exit, but I felt more comfortable facing straight in, with a tool in each hand (for three points of contact), versus traversing. We started up again, and I was still able to kick very secure steps and get secure axe placements. Right around 1:30 p.m. I made the final move to the flat snow on top.”

At this point, the snow collapsed. Toor’s memory of the moment is hazy: “I remember starting to fall and being totally confused how it was happening. I was done with the climb! Our theory is, the old cornice fracture line, a few feet back from the edge, collapsed.”

Colvin recalls, “I was knocked over backwards. I lost both ice axes. I slid until I found myself rolling, which eventually turned into somersaulting, sliding, and tumbling. I was aware enough to see some rocks in the snow as I hit the lower-angled section and did my best to miss them. I dragged my crampons to come to a stop near the bottom and amazingly didn’t break my ankles.”

Meanwhile, Toor recalls “hearing Mariella scream and trying to self-arrest. I remember tumbling out of control and having a fleeting sense that this was the end. Mariella also remembers feeling we were probably going to die.”

 “I was aware of Will sliding behind me,” Colvin recounts. “When we finally stopped, I could skootch sideways to him. Will thought his femur was broken. I knew my upper body had significant trauma, but my legs were fine. Will kept asking, ‘Where are we, what happened?,’ which made me worry about a concussion. I tested my mental state by asking myself easy arithmetic questions and did okay. I yelled for help but got no response. I realized I would have to get help, so I gave Will my warm clothes and food and set off with nothing but a windbreaker.”

Markian Feduschak, right, and Riley Gaines. Both work at the Walking Mountains Science Center in Colorado, as president and community science and hiking coordinator, respectively. Photo by Riley Gaines.

Toor recounts, “At 3:30 p.m., two climbers (Markian Feduschak and Riley Gaines) arrived. They had been climbing on Notchtop and had heard our calls. Seeing them walk toward me was one of the best sights of my life. They immediately took off their own puffies and put them on me. They were able to text with the Park Service on a Garmin InReach. They were calm and competent.

“Unfortunately, I was still cold because I was lying on the snow. Then, another party of three climbers appeared. They used my crampons to dig a trench, then lined it with packs, and dragged me into a sitting position. We got contact back from the Park Service confirming Mariella was with folks tending to her, which helped me relax. At that point, I hadn’t realized that she had serious injuries beyond a broken wrist.”

Colvin, unaware that aid had arrived for Toor, had “headed straight down over snow and rock slabs, avoiding cliffs and talus fields. I did stumble across one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen—with a waterfall, green meadow, wildflowers, and butterflies. I debated lying down to nap right there, but knew I had to keep going. I found that focusing on identifying wildflowers kept my mind in the here and now.

Colvin and Toor in the hospital. Toor says, “The whole experience really makes me see the good in people.” Photo by Will Toor.

“Finally, I reached Odessa Lake. This was a good place to yell for help, as my voice would carry across the water. I heard helicopters circling, and I felt sure they were going to Will and was really relieved. That gave me permission to lie down and rest, but within a few minutes I saw a man and his son. He sent his son in search of help and helped me on the rough trail around the lake to a campsite.

“A couple camping there had two tents. She set me up in a sleeping bag and air mattress. Someone else had a Garmin device and contacted the Park Service.”  

Meanwhile, still at the bottom of the East Couloir, Toor, Feduschak, and Gaines awaited more help. Toor recounts, “Around 6:30 p.m. we saw three yellow raincoats—the Park Service hasty team. They had warm blankets and painkillers. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the pain was setting in, so this was very welcome. Eventually, a big National Guard helicopter appeared. Just before 8 p.m. they dropped a litter and an attendant.”

Meanwhile, because of bad weather and impending darkness, Colvin had to stay at the hikers’ campsite overnight. “Two medics hiked in and spent the night with me, monitoring vital signs and administering painkillers,” she said. “They initially thought I would be able to walk out, but it became clear I would need an evacuation. So, the next morning two teams of rescuers transported me to a clearing to be picked up by a helicopter.”

Analysis

Toor and Colvin are very experienced, having climbed since the 1980s in the Tetons, Colorado, and the Canadian Rockies. One can argue in favor of the use of ropes and intermediate protection on snow climbs, but given the pair’s competence, such precaution might have only slowed them down, exposing them to even softer snow conditions.

The team’s late start due to the national park’s timed entry played an important role. Toor wrote that as they started up the couloir, “We were a bit concerned about the temperature.” While RMNP’s timed-entry system can be a challenge, it also reinforces best practices by encouraging an early arrival at the trailhead. A 5 a.m. start might well have prevented this accident.

Alpine climbing is full of unforeseen hazards. In line with Toor and Colvin’s cornice fracture theory, Park officials also suspect the cornice hadn’t melted out completely, contributing to its collapse.

Toor says, “SO MANY people put themselves out to save us, in little ways and in big ways, with skill, enormous effort, discomfort (the climbers with me had to jog to stay warm because I had their warm clothes, and that couple gave up their tent and sleeping bag for Mariella), and real risk (the helicopter team). I just can’t thank everyone enough. I am buying a Garmin InReach for us and one for my son Nicky.

(Sources: Will Toor, Mariella Colvin, Rocky Mountain National Park.)


Free Solo Rescue on El Cajon Mountain

Is this picture familiar? El Cajon Mountain, the site of a December free solo accident, was the location of a February rescue of a free soloist. Both incidents took place on Leonids (3 pitches, 5.9). The route is to the left of the prominent black roof and dihedral. Photo by Michael Sandler.

In December, we reported a tragic free solo accident in Southern California. It was the third free solo accident in Souther California during 2022.

Last month, a rescue of a stranded free soloist took place on the same crag. Incredibly, the latest incident, involving yet another unroped climber, unfolded on the exact same route!

Climbers, being passionate and opinionated, thrive on conjecture, estimations, and in some cases—judgment. Here, at Accidents in North American Climbing, we avoid emotional opinions. We report events and provide analysis of the facts. Our job is to educate by describing accidents and asking what went wrong. Because of that, we seldom do in-depth reporting of free solo accidents, as that style is a personal choice and there is usually scant helpful analysis to be made after the fact.

So, read on and make your own assessment here on the Mountain Project forum.


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The Prescription — October 2022

The following report will appear in the upcoming edition of Accidents in North American Climbing. The 2022 books are being prepared for shipment and will start going into the mail next week.

Stranded | Exposure and Weather

Yosemite National Park, Half Dome

Nick and Kate being hoisted to the summit of Half Dome after the storm in mid-October of 2021. Big Sandy and Thank God ledges are clearly outlined below by the plastering of fresh snow. Photo: Jack Cramer

In the evening of October 17, two climbers, Kate (28) and Nick (26), started up the Regular Northwest Face of Half Dome (23 pitches, 5.9 C2) after completing The Nose on El Capitan (31 pitches, 5.9 C2) earlier in the same day. Nick and Kate were both experienced climbers attempting a sub-24-hour link-up of the two walls. They failed to summit Half Dome when they were caught in a winter storm, five pitches from the top. 

After finishing The Nose, Kate and Nick ate lunch and started up the approach to Half Dome. The weather forecasted a 90 percent chance of precipitation around 1:30 a.m. Despite that, neither talked about rescheduling.

Kate and Nick started climbing the Northwest Face around 6 p.m. They made good progress, but around midnight they were engulfed in a winter-like storm. At this point, Nick and Kate were simul-climbing through 5.9 and 5.10 terrain, with snow and ice accumulating on ledges and in cracks. Around 12:30 a.m., they arrived at Big Sandy Ledge, atop pitch 18.

Nick and Kate are visible on a snow-covered Big Sandy Ledge in lower right. The icy Zig-Zag pitches are directly above this ledge. Photo: Jack Cramer

Nick began leading the first pitch of the “Zig-Zags” (pitch 19) with increasing difficulty. He was scraping ice out of the cracks and, at one point, slipped off a large foot ledge and fell back onto his daisy chain. Their gear was freezing solid, and Kate’s hands were losing their ability to function.  

Nick still wanted to try and summit, but Kate did not think safely continuing was possible. At this point, they had not sustained any injuries, but the pitches ahead included Thank God Ledge and multiple slab pitches, none of which is inconsequential, especially if covered with ice and snow. They called 911 at 1:50 a.m. and were told to call back at 6 a.m. In a few hours the snow stopped falling, the wind died down, and the temperature dropped. At first light, the conditions on the route were even icier. At 6 a.m., they called search and rescue back and confirmed they needed assistance.

Shortly afterward, Yosemite Search and Rescue (YOSAR) gathered for a technical rescue on Half Dome. The plan was to fly rescuers, ropes, and all necessary equipment to the summit with a helicopter and lower one member of YOSAR to Nick and Kate and then haul them up to the summit. Due to the cold conditions, the helicopter got delayed because the rotors needed to de-ice.

Nick and Kate huddling for warmth on snow-covered Big Sandy Ledge. Photo: Jack Cramer

Later that morning, conditions allowed the helicopter to fly. A rescuer was lowered to Nick and Kate, carrying jackets and warm beverages. Once the rescuer attached to Kate and Nick, two teams on top raised the climbers to the summit. Miraculously, neither Kate nor Nick sustained any cold-related injuries.

ANALYSIS

Heed the forecast. Severe storms can roll through Yosemite any month of the year, but early spring and late fall often catch climbers unaware. In this case, the team saw a forecast for the Valley floor (4,000 feet elevation) with precipitation starting at 1:30 a.m., and they were surprised when the storm started two hours earlier. The conditions on Half Dome (8,846 feet) were unsurprisingly much more intense and severe. 

Nick and Kate on the summit of Half Dome. Photographer Jack Cramer reported that the pair recovered and successfully completed The Nose/Half Dome link-up in spring 2022. Photo: Jack Cramer

Don’t allow the goal to blind your judgment. The link-up of Half Dome and El Capitan in under 24 hours is an admirable goal for any Valley climber. After a season of training and a plan set in motion, it can be tough to decide to bail, especially given that the climbers had completed El Capitan and were “on track” for a sub-24-hour time. They ignored a known weather risk to complete their goal. 

Communicate openly with your partner. Many accidents and rescues can be avoided with better communication. Any reservations or concerns should be immediately communicated. Especially with disappointment on the line, it can be challenging to start the conversation. Partners, particularly new partners, should regularly check in and practice their communication like other climbing skills. Sure, one partner might be disappointed at first, but if it means not having to spend the night in a winter storm or worse, it might be worth it.

Although they discussed the weather, there was no conversation about a worst-case scenario. The climbers didn’t discuss the possibility of not making it to the top nor what the upper pitches would be like in a storm. The final pitch of the Regular Northwest Face is slab climbing with limited opportunities to aid. There should always be a conversation about how to retreat if there is no real possibility of going up.

Pack the proper layers. If you know there is a chance of precipitation, you should pack suitable layers. Kate and Nick both had warm gloves (Kate was not initially wearing them), base layers, and hardshell jackets. However, neither had hardshell pants, and they felt like that was a major mistake. Both Kate and Nick have experience with ice/mixed climbing in winter conditions and thought they could have possibly self-rescued the following morning with the appropriate layers.

A National Park Service rescue helicopter departs the sunny Valley floor on the way to the snowy and frozen summit of Half Dome. Photo: Jack Cramer

Know when to call for a rescue (and have the ability to communicate). It’s tough to know when the right time is. Ultimately, Kate decided they should call for help when she felt like she could not safely use her hands. The need for a rescue became more apparent when they were rappelling back down to Big Sandy after attempting the Zig-Zags. The ropes were extremely icy, making the rappel dangerous. They rappelled with Grigris and used slings as “third-hand” backup prusiks, and did not feel it was safe to try and retreat further. There were legitimate concerns that if they attempted to continue upward, Kate and/or Nick could have gotten injured; this would have made the situation much worse and the rescue more complex.

They only carried one cell phone with them, and fortunately they were able to make a phone call to 911. To communicate with YOSAR, they kept the phone off when not in use and kept the phone next to their bodies to keep it warm and preserve the battery. (Source: Yosemite National Park Climbing Rangers.)

This report is adapted from a story at Yosemite Climbing Information, published by Yosemite rangers. 


SEASONAL HAZARDS: THE EDITOR’S STORY

The shoulder-season months of March/April and October/November can be perilous in Yosemite. After a long winter spent indoors, clear and sunny weather in early spring can lure climbers onto the walls. In fall, peak fitness honed over summer, combined with seemingly endless weeks of perfect weather, can tempt climbers to squeeze in one last end-of-the-season send.  

As the old saying goes, “Good judgment comes from bad experience.” Take it from Pete Takeda, editor of ANAC:

“I spent seven years living in Yosemite. Over that period, I climbed many big walls and suffered more than a few bad-weather epics. One instance stands out. 

“I was coming off a long winter and was itching to get on a wall. So in early April, my partner and I launched up an El Cap route called Lost World, foolishly ignoring a storm forecast. There was no internet back then, but the San Francisco Chronicle, delivered to the Valley on a daily basis, had a generally solid forecast printed in plain black and white on the front page. After two days of climbing, a storm clobbered us above the point of no return, and we spent the next three days soaked to the bone. My shelter was a thin sleeping bag and a leaky bivy sack. On day one of the storm, we foolishly declined an NPS rescue.

On day two I became concerned about hypothermia and asked my partner, ‘Are we going to make it?’ He was a veteran survivor of epics on walls and big mountains. His reply was frightening. ‘How the f*** should I know?’ 

“Day three dawned with sleet, but by noon the sun had peeked out. We jumped into action, climbing for our lives, and barely summited during a few hours of good weather. I’d lost ten pounds and acquired a case of trench foot. Had we had another day of bad weather I might not be sharing this tale.”


FROM THE ACCIDENTS VAULT: HALF DOME STORIES

These three rescues involved legendary climbers caught in storms on Half Dome:

In 1968, Warren Harding and Galen Rowell got caught in a storm on a new route.

On 27 October Warren Harding (44) and Galen Rowell (28) began an ascent on the unclimbed South Face of Half Dome. It was late in the year, but the weather looked good for the future and they both had equipment in the experimental stages, namely a single suspension bivouac hammock and shelter which would feasibly protect them from the weather in case a storm did break….

In 1986, Steve Bosque, Mike Corbett, and John Middendorf were trapped by an epic storm on the South Face.

(The trio) had been climbing the South Face route on Half Dome since March 4… McDevitt (a Search and Rescue team member) reported by radio that he had attempted to contact the climbers with a loudspeaker and that they had yelled that they needed to be rescued… McDevitt reported blizzard conditions in Little Yosemite Valley with heavy snowfall and strong winds…. 

Scenes from the 1986 South Face epic. Photos: John Middendorf Collection. Read Middendorf’s harrowing personal account here.

In 1975, budding young Stonemasters Dave Diegelman and Bill Price were rescued from the Regular North Face.

Dave Diegelman (17) and Bill Brice (17) had been climbing for the full day of August 19, 1975, on Half Dome’s Regular North (sic) Face, VI 5.8, A3. It started to rain moderately hard at 3 p.m. The climbers continued on for one more hour to reach the bivouac ledge (13th pitch). The rain continued all night and was accompanied by freezing temperatures…. 


EDUCATE: Trends in Climbing Accidents, with Pete Takeda

In this episode, we sat down with Pete to talk about the process of selecting the stories and analysis for the "Accidents" publication each year, trends in climbing accidents that Pete has noticed through his work—including many that the climbing world has been ignoring for far too long—and the bravery of submitting a report in a world that loves to critique.


EDUCATE: Inside the Life of Search and Rescue Teams

In this episode of the podcast, we talk to Grant Kleeves, a volunteer with Ouray Mountain Rescue, one of the winning SAR teams for last year’s Rocky Talkie SAR Award. We talk to Grant about some of the operational and logistical challenges that SAR teams face, and he walks us through the decision making process for a particular rescue Ouray Mountain Rescue did in 2021. You might note that we don’t describe what caused the accident, or analyze the accident either. And this is on purpose. Most of the time, SAR teams get a call for services without much context, and they must make decisions based on what they know. The story that Grant shares with us reflects that tricky reality.


The Prescription Newsletter is published monthly by the American Alpine Club.

The Prescription — September 2022 

The following reports will appear in the upcoming 2022 edition of Accidents in North American Climbing.

LEADER FALL | Single Piece Pulled Out 

Eldorado Canyon State Park, Wind Tower

Tiffany Hauck just moments before slipping and falling 30 feet, directly past the belay. Photo: Mike Sutton

My partner Mike (46) and I, Tiffany Hauck (50), convened on the morning of June 13, 2021. Our sights were set on Wind Ridge (4 pitches, 5.7). We had climbed on the route a month earlier but ended up missing a good portion of the ridge. We wanted to bag the full climb.

We made good progress and were soon at the top of the second pitch, nested in a cave-like hollow. Mike had led the previous pitch and opted to wrap the rope around a single largish boulder as the only anchor in the belay. I’d led the next pitch previously and knew that once I maneuvered past the chin-up, it was gravy.

I tightened my helmet and stepped onto a nearby boulder, so I could stretch and reach a large flake, which overhangs about eight feet above the belay. I heaved myself up into a narrow hollow. I put a cam in the same crack I’d previously used and then yanked in four directions. Satisfied the cam was stable and wouldn’t walk, I clipped in, stood up, assessed my position, and made a step onto a tiny foothold—and I slipped.

My right side slammed onto a large boulder at the edge of the belay ledge and I bounced—how far out, I don’t know, as I lost sense of direction. [As Hauck fell, the sole cam she had placed as protection pulled out.] My ears filled with the sound of pro slamming into the rock and striking my helmet. I was yanked back toward the rock, then bounced briefly again before I came to a stop. [Hauck and her partner estimated the fall was around 30 feet, ending well below the belay ledge.]

Looking up at the narrow hollow crux, where two different falls in 2021 led to serious accidents. Photo: Tiffany Hauck

It took time, but I righted myself and looked up to see Mike leaning over the boulder I’d hit on the way down. The first thing I noticed was a large splatter of blood on the rock between us, but Mike quickly explained that it was his blood—he had been pulled violently across the rock when I fell. I painfully climbed back to the belay ledge, and eventually we scrambled over to the descent trail. With the help of Mike and a climber named Hillary, who had come up the route behind us, I was able to walk out under my own power.

A visit to the emergency room revealed no concussion and no broken bones. I had minor scrapes and bruises on my shins, and contusions on my hip and buttocks. That evening, my left shin swelled to twice its normal size. The contusion would take weeks to heal.

Analysis

It is hard to say for sure the cause of the cam failing. I don’t know if it’s because I put in the wrong sized cam or if I put it in a bad location. But the most likely cause is that I placed too small of a cam, or that I placed it in a flaring crack. (Source: Tiffany Hauck.)

The second-pitch belay anchor on Wind Ridge is best built with this large block, in this case using part of the lead rope to tie it off. The long sling in the foreground is clipped to a cam placed in a shallow pocket. Photo: Pete Takeda

Editor’s Note: On Wind Ridge, a fall at this point is often a ledge fall. The cracks available at this crux are flared and piton-scarred, making cam placements tricky. Often, cams placed straight into piton scars appear secure. However, when the cam is rotated downward under load, it can disengage. Also, the interior lobes, hidden from view, might not be securely engaged because of grooves inside the crack. One can easily choose to skip this pitch by traversing along the big ledge.


A TRAGIC ACCIDENT TWO MONTHS LATER

Wind Ridge climbs directly to the circled belay ledge atop pitch two. This was the site of both accidents reported here. At this point, climbers can either escape left or continue through an overhang. In the August 2021 incident, the two climbers fell all the way to the point marked X. Photo: Tommy Copeland 

The exact spot of Hauck’s fall was the site of an eerily similar accident two months later. On August 26, two climbers suffered a belay anchor failure and fell over 100 feet. Climber 1 was in his 20s and survived with severe injuries. Climber 2 was in his 30s. He sustained fatal injuries.  

In a Climbing magazine accident report, Climber 1 recalled using a cordelette to girth-hitch a horn in the alcove for a belay. Climber 1 began leading the third pitch and moved out of the narrow hollow (where Hauck had fallen), at which point he gave his belayer a warning and fell. 

The two climbers tumbled end over end until they stopped on a ledge with a tree above the first pitch of a route called Tagger.

Later, SAR found no evidence of an anchor at the belay ledge. Perhaps the pair were unanchored. Perhaps their gear came unclipped or broke, as can happen in severe incidents. What is certain is their anchor, assuming they had one, was insufficient.

Danger Zones

Eldorado Canyon is notorious for its heady climbing style and demanding terrain. Adventure often extends well beyond the grade of the climbing and into the realm of rock quality, gear placements, and building belay anchors. See “DANGER ZONES: ELDORADO CANYON for more information on where and why accidents happen in Colorado's trad mecca. 


SAME ACCIDENT, ONLY DIFFERENT

On pitch two of the South Face of Washington Column, the leader fell 35 feet after a piece failed in a pin-scarred crack. Several of his lower pieces pulled as he fell. Photo: NPS


Piton scars infest many popular routes across North America. Back in the day, climbers hammered these tapered, nail-like spikes—often called “pins”—into cracks, using them as we now use nuts and cams. Over the years, repeated placement and removal of pitons marred these cracks with flared and irregular scars. Today, these disfigured cracks often offer passage on many moderate and popular classics. Thus, novices are often confronted with tricky protection placements.

California, Yosemite Valley
On October 7, 2016, two climbers started up the South Face of Washington Column. This popular route is a first big wall for many. On pitch two, the leader started climbing up a pin-scarred corner rated C1. Approximately 35 feet up, the piece he was standing on pulled out. The team believe that the falling leader pulled out an additional three pieces of gear during his fall, before landing on the belay ledge on his right side. When he tried to move, the injured leader experienced excruciating pain on his side and was having trouble breathing. They called 911 and YOSAR responded with an ultimately successful rescue. As with Hauck’s accident on Wind Ridge (above), the culprit was an inadequately placed cam in a piton scar. Read more on this in ANAC 2017.

See the National Park Service Accident Report for more images and details.


 The Prescription newsletter is published monthly by the American Alpine Club.

The Prescription — July 2022

FALLING ROCK | Severed Rope

New York, Shawangunks

The following report will appear in the upcoming 2022 edition of Accidents in North American Climbing.

On April 18, 2021, Gabe Schwartz (39) and Kile Simpson (33) were climbing Wrist, a two-pitch 5.6 in the Trapps area of the Gunks. Simpson, a climber with four years of experience, was leading the first pitch. Schwartz, who had been climbing for over ten years, wrote, “He (Kile) was nearing the top of the first pitch when he let out a yell.” Schwartz assumed his partner had fallen. He “...took a step back to prepare for a big catch and looked up to see a large rock falling down the wall.”

The rock landed at the bottom of the cliff and obliterated a dead tree before joining a scree field. At this point, Schwartz saw the lead rope lying limp on the ground. It had been severed about 40 feet below Simpson.

Schwartz recounts, “Once I notified him of the situation, he placed two cams and anchored off of them. He was at a hands-free stance. I happened to have my [own] rope with me, so I had a climber in the area belay me as I led up to the top of the first pitch. I set an anchor and tossed my partner the end of the rope so that he could tie in [and climb to my stance]. We finished the second pitch and retrieved all of our gear as we rappelled. We found the rock after the fact and estimated it to be 80 to 90 pounds.

ANALYSIS

Simpson wrote, “I was on an obvious line, but apparently off route. The rock that sheared seemed stable. I used it as a handhold. Having four points of contact and a large ledge was why I did not fall. I was not aware of the loose rock until after the incident.” He was 100 feet up when the rope was severed, and he was fortunate that the weight of the block impacting his rope did not pull him off.

This accident resulted in a combination of the leader taking a less frequented line and possibly the presence of loose rock in the early spring due to the freeze/thaw cycle. Simpson was wearing a helmet. Schwartz cannot recall if he had his helmet on while belaying, but his rule was to wear a helmet 100 percent of the time while climbing and perhaps 50 percent of the time on the ground. Now, he always wears a helmet while belaying. (Source: Gabe Schwartz.)

ROPES DON’T BREAK…RIGHT?!

Undamaged climbing ropes rarely if ever break in use, but they can be cut quite easily when loaded over a sharp edge of rock—or when impacted by a falling block. The incident described above is one of two separate cases reported in 2021 in which a falling rock cut the leader’s rope. In the second incident, near the top of a previously unclimbed route in Zion National Park, the rockfall sliced the lead rope and then impacted the belayer, badly breaking his leg. This incident will be analyzed in ANAC 2022 and was covered in Episode 71 of the Sharp End podcast (see the link below).

Leading with two half ropes or twin ropes can offer an additional margin of safety in loose terrain, but the best way to prevent rope-cutting accidents like these is to avoid knocking off rocks in the first place: Stay on route, test all suspicious holds or blocks, and use directional pieces to prevent the rope from dragging across ledges or tugging on loose blocks.


EXPERTS ONLY

There’s a misperception that climbing accidents most frequently involve novice climbers. In fact, according to the data collected by Accidents since the 1950s, only about 30 percent of reported technical climbing accidents involved beginners, in cases where the victim’s experience level was recorded. By contrast, more than 40 percent of accidents involved experienced climbers (more than three years of experience) or experts. In some cases, these experts have been among the most talented and high-profile climbers in America. Consider these three recent examples from the Accidents archives:

Molly Mitchell attempting Crank It in Boulder Canyon. The pieces that pulled out are marked. Photo by Tory Powers

Molly Mitchell, Boulder Canyon, Colorado Mitchell was attempting a no-bolts ascent of Crank It (5.13c/d) at Castle Rock. After a fall pulled out all four pieces of protection she had placed, she hit the ground and suffered a broken back. In her report in ANAC 2021, Mitchell wrote, “The crack is very polished, shallow, and flaring. The pieces are incredibly specific, and sometimes even when they look OK, they will not hold a dynamic fall. The bottom piece that pulled out (the medium nut) was a solid piece of gear, but what happened is the tension in the rope from ripping the upper pieces actually lifted this nut up and out of the crack. Had that nut held, I would not have hit the ground.” Almost 18 months after her ground fall—and after more rehearsal and preparation—Mitchell sent Crank It in June without clipping the bolts.

Hans Florine, El Capitan, California The man who repeatedly held the speed record for the Nose of El Cap and has climbed the route more than 100 times took a serious fall near the top of the route in May 2018. As Florine led the thin crack above Triangle Ledge, a piece popped and sent him for a 20-foot fall; he clipped the ledge and injured both legs, necessitating a rescue. Florine and his partner had dropped a gear sling with their small cams low on the climb, and one of the takeaways outlined in ANAC 2019 was the need to reassess one’s goals during a big climb if the circumstances change.

Alex Honnold, Index, Washington Honnold planned to run up a short 5.9 route to hang a top-rope for a relatively inexperienced partner and her family. At the last minute they switched to a shorter rope, and when he lowered off from the anchor, the end of the rope slipped through the belay device and he fell to the ground, suffering a back injury. In ANAC 2016, he explained, “Lots of things should have been done better—we should have thought about how long the rope was, we should have been paying more attention, we should have had a knot in the end of the rope. I wasn't wearing a helmet and was lucky to not injure my head…. Basically, things were all just a bit too lax.”

We’re grateful to all climbers—whether professionals or rookies—who choose to share these lessons and help educate others. Find our how to share your story—write to us at [email protected].


The Prescription newsletter is published monthly by the American Alpine Club.

The Prescription — June 2022

CRITTER DANGER

Colorado, Clear Creek Canyon

istock.com/SWKrullImaging

On December 4, a male climber (28) was struck by a falling rock while waiting at the base of the first pitch of Tortoise Scute (5.6), a three-pitch bolted climb. The block was reportedly microwave-sized. Although he survived the initial impact (he was wearing a helmet), he was later taken off life support at the hospital.

The rockfall initially was believed to have been generated by climbers above. However, it is improbable that a falling object dropped by climbers would have intersected the base of Tortoise Scute, as most of this crag’s climbs and the walk-off descent route are far to the west of Tortoise Scute, and no climbers are believed to have been directly above the route at the time of the accident.   

Other Critters is one of several crags spanning a hillside above Clear Creek Canyon. The arrow marks the first pitch of Tortoise Scute. Most of the routes end well below the rugged top of the cliff, where sheep and other wildlife frequently are present. Photo by Alan Prehmus

Evidence points to a natural event, quite possibly wildlife-generated rockfall. Climber Scott Turpin, who established highlines and climbs at a crag west of Other Critters and built a trail used to access these areas, said he frequently saw bighorn sheep in the area. “Especially in the winter and spring, bighorns would use the trail frequently, but were more often on the opposite side, directly above Safari and Other Critters. I saw lambs with them on multiple occasions. Though I was impressed by how agile the sheep were, I definitely saw them trundle rocks.”

Colorado Parks and Wildlife senior wildlife biologist Shannon Schaller said, “Bighorns frequent Clear Creek Canyon. It’s a lambing area, and they very possibly could have dislodged a rock above the climbing cliff.” She notes, “Rocks triggered by bighorns are a potential hazard to climbers, though it’s extremely rare as the sheep are very shy and tend to avoid people.” Nonetheless, she said, “I personally have seen falling rock caused by wildlife. For the same reasons people like to climb in an area, it’s also good for a bighorn habitat.”

It’s easy to be lulled into a sense of security at a very popular crag. The moderate grades, easy access, and sun-drenched aspect make this particular cliff a busy year-round destination. However, this is not a gym, and natural rockfall should be expected at any crag in a mountainous or canyon environment. (This is especially true after heavy rain or snow or during wind storms, all of which can dislodge rocks.) Adopting an alpinist’s sense of mountain awareness can help prevent such accidents. Watch and listen for rockfall, try to choose protected belay areas, and wear helmets while climbing, belaying, or waiting your turn to climb. (Sources: Mountain Project, Scott Turpin, and Shannon Schaller.)

MORE TRUNDLING BY ANIMALS

Although rockfall incidents are frequently reported in Accidents, few are directly attributed to wildlife. Here are two cases where animals were the suspected culprits:

The Golf Course, Canmore, Alberta: Mountain goats have been known to knock rocks off the top of this very popular sport climbing area. Two climbers were injured here in 2015.

Red Mountain, Cascades, Washington: Rockfall sprayed a group partway up the mountain in 1963, injuring one of the climbers. The climbers believed it must have been caused by animals, either goats or marmots.


DOCTOR BANNED FROM DENALI 

The “Autobahn,” the traverse from 17,200-foot camp to Denali Pass on the West Buttress Route. The fall in this incident started near Denali Pass at top left. NPS Photo

A doctor from Utah has been sentenced following an incident on Denali last season that led to charges of interfering with a rescue, violating a lawful order, and making a false report.

On May 24, 2021, after teaming up at 14,200-foot camp, Dr. Jason Lance, 48, and Adam Rawski began a long summit attempt. Above Denali Pass at 18,200 feet, Rawski slowed notably and showed signs of altitude sickness. Lance left Rawski and continued up; the ill climber was aided by two other climbers in the area. Lance eventually turned back and rejoined the others to descend, but as they prepared to start down from Denali Pass to the 17,200-foot camp—a traversing descent that sees more deadly falls than any other location on the mountain—Rawski suddenly tumbled more than 1,000 feet. Denali rangers quickly responded by helicopter and rescued Rawski, who survived the fall but with serious injuries.

Lance and the two other climbers were still at Denali Pass, and one of the climbers later testified that Lance used Rawski’s inReach device, which he’d taken before heading toward the summit, to message the National Park Service and request a helicopter lift from the pass. According to the Justice Department, he claimed the group did not have proper equipment to descend and then misleadingly claimed the two other climbers were suffering from shock. (One of those climbers testified that he and the other climber were at no time suffering from medical shock, though they were distressed by witnessing Rawski’s fall.) Eventually the three made their way down to the high camp on their own.

According to the Justice Department’s news release, Denali mountaineering ranger Chris Erickson “instructed Dr. Lance to turn over the inReach device so the National Park Service could return it to Rawski or his family.” Lance initially refused to return the device, and subsequently it was discovered that several messages had been deleted from the inReach.

In November 2021, Lance was charged with three misdemeanors, and in March of this year he pleaded guilty to a single charge of violating a lawful order. The other charges were dismissed. The federal magistrate’s sentence included a $5,000 fine, a $5,000 donation to Denali Rescue Volunteers, and a five-year ban from climbing on Denali.

“Impeding the investigation of a near-fatal accident and attempting to secure helicopter rescue under misleading premises evinces a selfishness and indifference to the scarcity of public safety and rescue resources that is unacceptable anywhere, let alone on the tallest peak in North America,” said U.S. Attorney John E. Kuhn Jr.

In a story published in the Anchorage Daily News shortly after the sentencing, Lance denied deleting any messages from the inReach and said he had requested the rescue from Denali Pass because Rawski had been carrying their snow pickets, all three of the climbers were experiencing “psychological shock,” and in his judgment they were showing early signs of hypothermia. Quoted in the newspaper story, Lance said he was relieved that prosecutors “reviewed the information and found I didn’t make any false statements about requesting rescue.”


WITNESSING A SOLOIST FALL

It can be scary stuff to watch a free soloist doing her thing. Or to watch Free Solo, for that matter. Now imagine being at the crag when a soloist falls off a climb, less than 50 feet away. That was the experience of Ashley Saupe’s guest for the latest Sharp End podcast. Fortunately, the soloist survived, but the experience was profoundly affecting for everyone at the crag that day.


The Prescription newsletter is published monthly by the American Alpine Club. Questions? Suggestions? Write to us at [email protected].

The Prescription — April 2022

Ground Fall | Rappel Failure

The Apron, Squamish, British Columbia

On the afternoon of September 3, 2021, Dany Dalpe (29) suffered a 200-foot ground fall from several pitches up on The Apron in Squamish. At the time, Dalpe was a climber with five years of experience. Though he consistently climbed 5.13 sport routes, his multi-pitch experience was limited to two years, mainly on bolted routes around Squamish. His partner (female, 29) was a beginner climber using borrowed gear. This was her first multi-pitch outing.

Around 12:30 p.m. the pair started up Born Again, a link-up combining sections of established routes with new pitches to create “the best protected 5.10 on the Apron.” Its copious protection, bolted belays, and generally forgiving angle made it a fine choice given the team’s limited experience.

Red line shows the first two pitches of Born Again. Instead of continuing up this route (red arrow), the climbers traversed left and climbed the second pitch of Dream On (yellow line). When their attempt to rappel (yellow arrow) failed, the leader tumbled to the ground. Photo by Kris Wild

To avoid a party climbing above, Dalpe decided to traverse left near the end of the second pitch. After joining Dream On, he found the climbing changed character. The next pitch was less forgiving and had only one protection bolt. At the top of his third lead, Dalpe recalls thinking, “This was not the day I had in mind.” The climbing above appeared even more demanding. “I looked up the next pitch and decided it was not worth it.”

At 1:30 p.m., his climbing partner arrived at the belay, and Dalpe told her they would be descending from there. The partner carried a traditional belay/rappel device, though she was not experienced enough to rappel. Dalpe planned to use his Grigri to lower her and then make a single-line rappel, using her weight at the opposite end of the rope as a counterweight anchor. He untied his partner, threaded the rope end through the rappel rings, retied her, and then used his Grigri to lower her to a prominent ledge. Once there, she traversed to a tree anchor and connected to it with a personal anchor system (PAS). Before lowering her, Dalpe said to his partner, “Go to the tree anchor, clip in, and do nothing.”

Dalpe set his Grigri up to rappel and started down the single strand. Halfway to the tree anchor, the rope became suddenly unweighted and Dalpe fell. He recalls, “I was tumbling and everything went black. Then I hit something…and went black. I hit something again…black. I hit another thing…black. I was probably screaming for five seconds.”

While falling, the rope through Dalpe’s Grigri went slack and, “I saw the rope swirling orange and I kept asking, ‘When am I gonna stop?’ ”

Dalpe hit the ground, rolled a distance, and came to rest at a tree. Climbers approaching the cliff rushed up to help. One called for an ambulance at 1:45 p.m. Another team that was on Born Again rappelled to Dalpe’s partner and lowered her to the ground. At 3:45 p.m., Dalpe was transported by ambulance to the hospital.

He escaped with relatively minor injuries considering his 200-foot tumble (He was not wearing a helmet.) He suffered a broken sternum, two broken bones in the right foot, plus multiple abrasions to his scapula and back of his head.  He spent one month on a couch, and four months later he was climbing 5.13 again. (Sources: Interview with Dany Dalpe and report from British Columbia Emergency Health Services.)

Analysis

It appears the rappel failed when Dalpe’s partner somehow managed to untie her knot as he rappelled the single strand. Later, her half-tied figure-8 was discovered to be cinched tight; her end of the rope with the half-tied knot had pulled through the rappel rings—no doubt slowing Dalpe as he tumbled toward the ground. It seems likely she began to untie as soon as she clipped into the anchor, and that some element of the system temporarily held Dalpe’s weight until he had already committed to the rappel.

Dany Dalpe, on the road to recovery.

Counterweight systems—simul-rappelling, counter-ascending, or the descent method chosen by Dalpe in this incident—are for experts only. (In fact, accidents involving such systems have claimed even very experienced climbers.) The entire team needs to understand the necessity and process of maintaining a closed system until both parties are on the ground or securely anchored. Given his partner’s limited experience, Dalpe could have made better choices involving the route, equipment, and rappel method.

The transition from single-pitch sport to multi-pitch—even on a mostly bolted climb with solid chain anchors—presents many challenges. First was equipment. This pair was equipped with a single rope and only one belay/rappel device, which necessitated a complex counterweighted rappel when they decided to bail. Another issue was experience. Dalpe’s partner, through no fault of her own, was clearly in over her head.

Dalpe’s physical climbing ability might have contributed indirectly to the accident. Climbing 5.13 after only a few years is an empowering—and often misleading—experience. In a multi-pitch or trad environment, a metric like a sport climbing grade is an inadequate substitute for proper tools, training, and experience. To his credit, Dalpe chose to descend when he recognized they were over their head on this long route. It takes years of practice to develop the skills and judgment to safely lead an inexperienced partner up a multi-pitch climb. (Source: The Editors.)


Flying Cams

Ancient Art, Fisher Towers, Utah

Jeff Weinberg on top of Ancient Art. Photo by AAC staffer Robert Hakim

Mo Leuthauser, a climber from Colorado, was starting the last pitch of the Stolen Chimney route on Ancient Art, the spiraling sandstone formation in the Fisher Towers of Utah, when she noticed a soft spot on one of her harness gear loops. She mentioned it to her partner but kept climbing. As she was being lowered from the top of the tower, “I heard a pop and saw my cams and nuts fly off the left side of my harness and hurl hundreds of feet down the tower, toward hikers below. I screamed ‘rock’ as loud as I possibly could, and luckily the hikers were able to get out of the way in time.  No one was hit or injured.”

Leuthauser was using an all-around harness that was about four years old. Although harnesses generally are safe to use for considerably longer (depending on the amount and style of climbing you do), this is a good reminder to inspect all the components of critical gear regularly for wear or damage. Dropping cams this way not only creates a hazard for anyone below, it also could be very expensive! 


The Sharp End: Episode 75

It’s the diamond jubilee of Ashley Saupe’s Sharp End podcast, which the AAC helped launch back in 2016, after Ashley approached the club about transforming stories in Accidents in North American Climbing into an interview format. In this month’s show, Ashley interviews climber Joe Lovin about a nasty tumble he took while leaving a Colorado crag, just after sending his first 5.12! As always, it’s an educational and entertaining look at the type of accident that could happen to any of us.


The monthly Prescription newsletter is supported by the members of the American Alpine Club. Questions? Suggestions? Write to us at [email protected]. 

The Prescription – March 2022

Surviving El Gigante

Mark Hudon and Jordan Cannon

Jordan Cannon and Mark Hudon are headlining the AAC’s Annual Benefit Gala in Denver on March 26, sharing stories of their unique and productive climbing partnership. (Tickets are still available for both the in-person and streamed events—get them here!) We asked these big-wall experts and close friends to share stories of near misses they’ve experienced, and Jordan shared a wild tale from El Gigante, a huge wall in Chihuahua, Mexico.

In January 2019, Jordan and Hayden Jamieson attempted
Logical Progression, a 28-pitch 5.13 on El Gigante that’s typically approached from above, by rappelling in and climbing out. Jordan and Hayden stashed gear for two bivouacs on their way down the wall and then started climbing back out. The first two days went well, as they worked on the crux pitches and bivouacked eight pitches up….

Photo by Hayden Jamieson

“Day 3 was where things took a turn for the worse,” Hayden wrote in a story at the Gnarly Nutrition website. “I was woken at sunrise to the unwelcome sensation of light rain on my face.” The two continued up the wall, aiming for their next bivy cache at the top of pitch 17. But the rain kept getting stronger, and by pitch 14, they were in trouble. “We had nearly no food, very little water, we were still 200 to 300 feet below our next stash of food, the rain was getting heavier, and our clothes were saturated with water down to our underwear… Several microwave-sized blocks were blown off the wall from above and narrowly missed both of us.” The two 5.13 climbers found it impossible to climb run-out 5.11. They were stuck.

In pounding rain, they set up their portaledge and rigged their haul bag on bolts above them to guard against rockfall. But they were already soaked. “That night was certainly the longest, coldest, and most terrifying night of either of our lives,” Hayden wrote. “We shivered uncontrollably and spooned each other for warmth as the storm raged all around us.” Luckily, the clouds cleared in the morning, and they made their way up the rock by any means necessary, refueled at their food cache, and pushed to the top, 16 hours after leaving their bivouac.

Happy to be alive. Photo by Hayden Jamieson

LESSONS LEARNED

Says Jordan: “I think we were very close to dying of hypothermia, waiting it out in a poor position with inadequate gear. All of which could have easily been avoided if I had taken a note out of Mark Hudon’s book on big wall preparedness! Thankfully, I learned my lesson and even picked up some more wall tips from Mark during our time climbing together after that trip.”

Here are some of the things Jordan has learned about preparing for storms on big walls:

1. Never bring down sleeping bags (or down jackets, if you can help it). Always synthetic, because it will keep you warm even when it’s wet.

2. Always bring a bivy sack. Even when you think you won’t need it. (We, stupidly, decided to leave ours on the summit before we rapped the wall.)

3. Make sure your rain fly is in good condition. Ours was old and had holes in it, so it leaked.

4. Always bring some sort of emergency kit consisting of a rain jacket, rain pants, base layers (top and bottoms), hat, gloves, and warm socks. You likely won’t use any of it, but if you do, you'll be glad to have it!

5. Bring an inReach or some kind of satellite phone, especially if the wall is remote.

6. In the face of bad weather, it’s better to hunker down before a storm rather than waiting for it to hit and getting wetter than necessary in the process.

Mark Hudon (top) and Jordan Cannon in Zion National Park. Photo by Samuel Crossley

“Don't underestimate the seriousness of big wall climbing and the threat of inclement weather, especially on a remote big wall in Mexico in the dead of winter. (But in Yosemite, too!) Even if it is just ‘big wall sport climbing,’ that doesn't mean it’s will be casual. Always be prepared for the worst!”

Mark Hudon has been climbing big walls since the late 1970s and has compiled some of his expertise into excellent downloadable PDFs at his website. And remember, you can see Mark and Jordan together at the AAC’s Annual Benefit Gala on March 26. Don’t miss it!

El Cap Stories

As Jordan Cannon says, you don’t have to be in a remote canyon in Mexico to get into serious trouble when a storm hits a wall. The pages of ANAC have reported many such incidents from El Capitan over the years. Here are two examples:

• In September 1991, “the first winter storm of the season moved into the Central Sierra, dropping 4.5 inches of rain at lower elevations with snow level reaching 4,000 feet.” Two pairs of very experienced climbers ended up getting rescued from hard El Cap routes: One had been trapped in a run-off waterfall on the Sea of Dreams route, and the other was nearing the top of Native Son when one of the climbers got hypothermia.

 • In late May 1993, two climbers were trapped at Camp 5 on The Nose after heavy rain fell all day, causing mild hypothermia. Rescuers were able to lower about 800 feet from the rim to their position, give them dry clothes, and help them jumar out.  

A survey of 41 years of ANAC reports on The Nose (from 1974 to 2014) found that about one-quarter of all accidents involved weather and stranding. The “Danger Zones” article from ANAC 2015 focused on the major accident causes on the Nose: Read it here!


The Sharp End: Deadly Avalanche

In the latest Sharp End, Ken Wylie, author of the book Buried, recounts a horrific accident near Revelstoke, British Columbia, in January 2003.

If you’re a Sharp End fan, don’t miss the AAC’s Annual Benefit Gala on March 26. Ashley Saupe will be hosting a live interview for an upcoming show. In-person and streaming tickets are available here!


The monthly Prescription newsletter is supported by the members of the American Alpine Club. Questions? Suggestions? Write to us at [email protected].

 

The Prescription - February 2022

FALL FROM ANCHOR | TETHER CLIPPED INCORRECTLY

Arizona, Cochise Stronghold, Owl Rock

On the afternoon of January 31, 2021, Tim Parker (35) suffered a ground fall from the anchor above Naked Prey (5.12a) in Cochise Stronghold. Parker is a climber with over 15 years of experience. His partner, Darcy Mullen (32), is a climber of over 10 years. They are both mountaineering instructors for an international outdoor education organization.

The pair had decided to finish their day with several pitches on Owl Rock, a pinnacle with several high-quality one-pitch routes. Mullen led Nightstalker (5.9), a classic mixed gear/bolt route on the lower-angle front side of Owl Rock. She built an anchor and belayed Parker to the top.

Mullen rappelled the overhanging backside of the pinnacle, passing over the line of Naked Prey. Parker then rigged the two-bolt anchor with a quad cordelette in order to top-rope Naked Prey, and Mullen lowered him to the base of the climb. He then top-roped the route. Back on top, Parker decided it made more sense to rappel than be lowered due to the location of the anchor bolts.

Quad cordelette rigged at the rappel anchor on Owl Rock, as found the day after the accident. The carabiner on the shelf of the cordelette is still in place and locked.

For an anchor tether, he used a double-length sewn nylon runner girth-hitched around both hard points on his harness. Parker had pre-rigged the tether with two overhand knots, dividing the sling into three segments, to allow for various clip-in points and for extending his rappel device. He used a locking carabiner to clip the tether into the shelf of the cordelette anchor. Unbeknownst to him, the carabiner was not properly clipped to his tether, but this fact would not be revealed for several minutes. Parker did a visual double-check of his connection, asked for slack, and weighted the new system. With nearly full body weight on the tether and the carabiner locked, he told Mullen to take him off belay. After doing so, she walked around the formation to Nightstalker’s base, where she began packing their gear.

Meanwhile, Parker untied from the rope and threaded it through the rappel anchors, then pulled the rope through the rings until both ends were on the ground. Approximately five minutes after taking her partner off belay, Mullen heard a yell and watched Parker fall from the top of the climb. He free-fell approximately 60 feet, then fell another 30 feet down lower-angled rock (70–80°) before hitting the ground.

Mullen found him lying on his back. His head was approximately one foot away from a small boulder. A trained Wilderness First Responder, Mullen stabilized Parker until a nearby climbing party arrived to help. The other climbers dialed 911. The time was 5 p.m. Mullen then directed the other climbers to help take vital signs and stabilize Parker until paramedics arrived at about 5:30 p.m. He was airlifted to Banner University Medical Center in Tucson.

Parker spent about three and a half weeks in the hospital and rehab center, with many broken bones, extensive abrasions, a mild traumatic brain injury, a nearly severed left ear, and nerve damage. After being discharged, Parker spent about two and a half months in a wheelchair and another month on crutches. Though still recovering, he was able to return to working on expedition and climbing courses in November 2021.

ANALYSIS

Reconstruction of the Owl Rock anchor showing how an overhand knot in the tether sling likely jammed on the locking carabiner and held the climber’s weight temporarily. From the climber’s perspective, the sling appeared to be properly clipped.

Due to some memory loss from the accident, the precise cause of the fall—and the five to ten minutes leading up to it—can only be hypothesized. Parker believes he initially clipped the end of his tether into the cordelette but that this connection was too long to give him easy access to the anchor. He must have tried to shorten his tether by clipping the second knotted loop of the sling.

After the accident, his locking carabiner remained clipped to the cordelette and locked shut. The tether was not compromised in any way. Parker assumes that when he tried to clip in, he pushed the knot through the opening of the locking carabiner but did not clip the actual loop of webbing. When he weighted the system, it is believed the knot jammed against the edge of the carabiner just enough to hold his weight. Parker’s rappel device was still clipped to a gear loop on his harness after the fall. Likely the knot in the tether popped through the carabiner when his body weight shifted as he reached for the device.

Parker and Mullen recreated this scenario at home. They noted that while it was difficult to fully weight a knot placed in the carabiner this way, when it was set in a particular spot the knot could hold weight (especially when lodged in a smaller D-shaped locking carabiner). Once loaded, the jammed knot appeared similar to a properly clipped and loaded tether.

Many aspects of this accident line up with themes in other descending accidents. Since this was the last climb of the day, they felt pressure to depart for the two-hour drive back to Tucson. The couple were also about to start a three-week outdoor education course. Such transitions can be stressful and distracting. Parker reflected that the accident’s primary cause was complacency, as he ultimately failed to catch his own mistake.

Other aspects are important as well. Parker had used his tether system many times, but more often for rappelling multi-pitch climbs. Using a new system—or an old system in a new context—raises a yellow flag that should be recognized. Perhaps the better option would have been to rig the system he used more commonly for cleaning bolted anchors on sport climbs. The only reason he used the system in question was because it was already rigged from his previous climb on Nightstalker.

Lastly, Parker was not wearing a helmet. This was a conscious decision. Before this accident, he regularly wore a helmet while leading and/or when concerned about overhead hazards. But since Naked Prey is a short, steep pitch on small pinnacle of rock, rockfall was not an issue. As he was top-roping, there was little to no chance of hitting his head in a fall. Of all of the miracles herein, the greatest might be his avoidance of serious brain damage and/or death. Parker now wears his helmet in all outdoor roped climbing contexts. (Sources: Tim Parker and Darcy Mullen.)

EDITOR’S NOTES

Redundancy: Whether you clip an anchor with the rope, quickdraws, slings, or a commercial PAS, it usually takes little effort or extra gear to create a redundant connection. It’s true that climbers rely on equipment with zero redundancy all the time, including the belay loop on your harness or the rope while you’re climbing, lowering, or rappelling. But there’s seldom a good reason not to double up at an anchor.

Check It! Accidents and near misses with inadequate anchor connections occasionally involve outside forces (rockfall, for example). But most of the time they can be prevented by double- and triple-checking your connection.

Take it from Dougald MacDonald, past editor of ANAC: “One of my scariest moments in four-plus decades of climbing came during a long series of rappels with two partners in the French Alps. Midway through the descent, with all three of us perched on a sloping ice-covered ledge, one of the climbers hissed at me, “Do you know you’re not attached to anything?” In our rush to get down, I had unclipped from the ropes on the previous rappel without ever clipping the anchor. Fortunately, neither a nudge from my partners, a slip on my crampons, nor a gust of wind pushed me off the tiny ledge.”

Personal tether tied with a water knot that came undone at a rappel anchor on the Grand Teton in 2016, causing a tragic accident. NPS Photo

From the Archives: Here are two incidents from past ANACs indicating ways climbers can be disconnected from anchors. Tragically, both of these ended with fatal injuries.

PAS Disconnected on Half Dome’s Snake Dike (ANAC 2016)

Knotted Sling Comes Undone on Grand Teton (ANAC 2017)

In all of the cases discussed here, a closer look at the anchor connection might have prevented a disastrous accident. 


THE SHARP END: AN UNPLANNED BIVY

In Episode 73 of the Sharp End Podcast, Ashley and Christian Kiefer discuss a cold, uncomfortable, and unexpected night out at 13,000 feet on Mt. Emerson in California’s Sierra Nevada.


The monthly Prescription newsletter is supported by the members of the American Alpine Club. Questions? Suggestions? Write to us at [email protected]. 

The Prescription - January 2022

TRIGGERED SLAB | INCONSISTENT SNOW DEPTH

Montana, Absaroka Range, Republic Mountain

Three of the six skiers on this tour were avalanched into dangerous tree-covered slopes.

The following report analyzes an avalanche incident one year ago in Montana. This report was included in the new backcountry avalanche section in the 2021 edition of Accidents in North American Climbing. There are some great lessons here for backcountry travelers this winter.

On the morning of January 8, 2021, a group of six skiers (one female and five males) met in Cooke City, Montana, and decided to ski the Fin on Republic Mountain. None of them had been to this particular slope or mountain before. All members carried an avalanche transceiver, shovel, and probe, and three were wearing helmets. Two carried avalanche airbag packs. All had at least some avalanche education. They had read the local avalanche forecast the day before, but not the day of this incident (the danger had not changed).

On their ascent, visibility was poor and they could not see the entire slope or the ridge line they intended to climb. As they left the trees, they dug two pits and performed [stability] tests. One later wrote, “Though we identified potential weak layers at 60 cm and a deeper one…we got minimal failure and no propagation. What we saw in the pits was a nice right-side-up snowpack. However, we knew if we skinned along the ridge to the southwest, the snowpack would change due to wind exposure. We discussed mitigating this by skinning close to the ridge and skiing back down our skin track if we saw warning signs.”

As they continued and “when those in the skin track crossed over a wind lip into a slightly more southerly aspect,” they felt the slope collapse and watched a crack propagate 250 feet upslope. The avalanche broke 1.5 to two feet deep, 200 feet wide, and ran 700 feet vertically. Skiers 1 and 2 were carried the full distance to the base of the slope. Skier 3 was carried about midway downslope. Skier 4 was at the edge of the slide and able to hold their position, and Skiers 5 and 6 were further back in the skin track.

Skier 1 deployed his airbag and was partially buried. He freed himself from the debris and began a transceiver search. He followed the signal to Skier 2, whose head was buried more than two feet deep; the skier was unconscious and not breathing. Skier 1 cleared Skier 2’s airway, and Skier 2 began breathing and regained consciousness. Skier 2 sustained injuries to his leg, but later made it out under his own power.

Skiers 4, 5, and 6 quickly skied down to help Skier 3, who was partially buried about halfway down the slide path and sustained serious injuries to his ribs and lungs. Skiers 4 and 6 had two-way radios and called for help. (There is no cell service in this region.) They were able to contact someone with a radio in Cooke City, who reported it to Park County Search and Rescue. Because Skier 3 could not move, the group eventually congregated at Skier 3’s position, where they built a fire and waited for rescuers. Skier 3 was evacuated by helicopter at about 4 p.m., and the rest of the party was able to get out under their own power with the help of rescuers.

ANALYSIS

Investigating the Republic Mountain avalanche one day after the slide.

The avalanche occurred on an east aspect at 9,700 feet. The average slope angle was 37 degrees (33 degrees at the crown). The mountains near Cooke City had received heavy snow in October and November, which formed a dense, two- to four-foot-deep snowpack on many slopes. In late November to December, minimal snowfall and cold temperatures led to the formation of weak layers of sugary facets on some slopes, especially where the snowpack was relatively shallow. These layers were buried by subsequent heavy snowfall in late December, followed by small storms through the first week of January.

The skiers dug a six-foot-deep snow pit close to where the avalanche was triggered. They found good snow structure and good stability in their pit, which investigators confirmed the next day when they dug in the same spot. Approximately 100 feet away, with a slight change in aspect, the snowpack thinned from six feet to two to three feet deep. This thin area is where they initiated a fracture in the faceted grains.

In a video produced after the investigation at the accident scene (see video below) and in comments to viewers, Doug Chabot of Gallatin National Forest Avalanche Center [and a former AAC board member] warned skiers to “be really careful and paying attention to if the snowpack is changing as you’re skinning along. As soon as [these skiers] wrapped around to a slightly different aspect, the depth and snow structure changed. A stability test is one of many pieces of info that goes into deciding whether to ski or not. A poor test result is enough to turn around, yet the absence of that is not a green light to move forward…. The bottom line is that you should know that the snow is very stable if you are considering entering large, highly consequential avalanche terrain like the Fin.” (Source: Gallatin National Forest Avalanche Center.)


AVALANCHE COVERAGE IN ANAC: WHAT DO YOU THINK?

The 2021 edition of Accidents in North American Climbing introduced a new section of reports on backcountry skiing and snowboarding avalanches. Accidents has always covered mountaineering avalanches (including some ski mountaineering incidents), but the new 15-page section expanded our coverage to backcountry ski touring and snowboarding terrain, with 10 detailed reports and photos from December 2020 to April 2021. We’d like to know what you think: Did you read the new avalanche section? Did you think it was helpful and educational? Do you think this section was an appropriate use of pages in ANAC, or should the book stick exclusively with its traditional subject matter? Please fill out the 2 minutes survey. Thank you!


BACKCOUNTRY MEDICINE ON YOUR PHONE

Wilderness Medicine Reference is an information-packed app with diagnosis and treatment recommendations for many backcountry medical situations, plus prevention and evacuation checklists and strategies. Created by Karen Lapides, a longtime Colorado-based paramedic, wilderness medicine instructor, and Outward Bound mountaineering course director, the app is aimed at backcountry travelers with little medical training up to those with wilderness EMT certification. Nothing can replace formal wilderness medical training and practice, but for just 99 cents, this app offers an inexpensive and convenient field reference or backup.


THE SHARP END: GROUND FALL NEAR LAKE TAHOE

In Episode 72 of the Sharp End Podcast, climber Kyle Broxterman describes a serious trad climbing accident near Lake Tahoe, California. His attempt on a 5.11 trad climb ended when he fell and pulled out three wired nuts he’d placed for protection. Hear why Kyle is taking a step back from letting his ego drive his climbing and how he is managing his recovery from a terrible fall.


The monthly Prescription newsletter is supported by adidas Outdoor and the members of the American Alpine Club. Questions? Suggestions? Write to us at [email protected].

The Prescription - December 2021

The north face of Pioneer Peak, showing the route attempted in the incident below. X marks approximate site of the anchor where the climbers were impacted by avalanches. Photo by Cecil Sanders

The Prescription - December 2021

Alaska, Chugach Mountains, Pioneer Peak

Two Avalanches – Rope Cut, Anchor Unclipped

We know that many people don’t read every single report in Accidents—particularly ones that are far from home and more than three pages long. But we want to call your attention to the story highlighted here, both for the lessons it imparts and for the drama of the events—fortunately they ended without a fatality or very serious injuries. A condensed outline follows. We highly recommend reading the full report, starting on page 20 of this year’s book or at this page on our publications website.

On April 15, Fallon Connolly, 26, and Simon Frez-Albrecht, age 28 (both experienced climbers), started up the nearly 6,000-foot north face of Pioneer Peak, northeast of Anchorage, at 5:45 a.m. It had been 37°F at the car. Near the second ice band on the long snow and ice route, about 4,000 feet above the start, Fallon observed signs of what appeared to be fairly recent avalanches on the gully walls. Simon was about 50 feet ahead of Fallon and had nearly reached a position to anchor for the next pitch when he noticed a very small wet loose avalanche come tumbling over the ice above. He yelled down to warn Fallon. Simon was standing to one side of the gully, and it didn’t hit him, but it all washed directly over Fallon; she planted both tools firmly and put her head down to let the snow pass. They estimated the flow lasted 60 seconds.

After the flow stopped, Fallon continued up to where Simon was waiting and they moved together perhaps 50 feet up and to the opposite side of the gully, where there were some obvious cracks in the rock. Here they built an anchor and, given what they had observed, prepared to descend from this point. Simon bounce-tested their bail anchor and then set up their brand-new 7.8mm ropes (pink and green) and threaded them through his device for a rappel. Fallon also pre-rigged her device on the rappel ropes. A number 2 Camalot they had placed temporarily was clipped to the ropes as backup, with a non-locker on a 60cm sling. Fallon remained clipped to the cord masterpoint in the anchor with a locking carabiner as Simon began to rappel. When Simon was about halfway down, Fallon yelled to warn him about another avalanche coming over the ice pitch above.

What followed was an extraordinary “series of unfortunate events”:

Brand-new rope cut during this incident.

• Fallon was knocked off her feet by the slide and left hanging from her tether clipped to the anchor. Her gloves and glasses disappeared.

• Their pink rappel rope broke (likely cut against a sharp edge of rock), but the knot joining the ropes jammed in Fallon’s pre-rigged rappel device, keeping the other rope attached to her and thus to the anchor.

• Simon was pummeled by avalanche debris for one to three minutes. Only a tangle in the green rope kept him from being pulled to the end of the rope by the debris.

• As the slide ended, Fallon stood up at the anchor. Before she could reinforce her tether or anchor the green rope, a second avalanche rumbled over the ice above. This time, Fallon was pulled from the anchor and tumbled down the slope.

Damage to Fallon’s harness when she was hit by avalanches at the rappel stance on Pioneer Peak. The harness likely would have sustained many kilonewtons of force to be damaged this way, yet both it and the anchor held.

• Simon heard and saw the second slide coming and was able to shelter behind a rock outcrop, yet the debris plucked him from this stance and he fell another 100 feet down the snow gully. Fallon slid and tumbled a total of 300 to 400 feet.

Very fortunately, neither climber was buried, swept all the way down the mountain, or seriously injured, and they were able to self-rescue to the road.

In his analysis of the incident, Simon outlined numerous important but subtle clues they missed when they decided to climb this route on a relatively warm day. “We felt we had pieced together enough information to make an informed decision,” he wrote. “I suspected the shed cycle had already happened in the previous warm, sunny days, so there wouldn’t be a significant amount of loose/available snow left on the mountain to slide onto us. I didn’t consider that the freezing at night had been enough to keep the snow locked in place, poised above us.

“Probably the single most obvious clue we missed,” he continued, “was that it had stayed cloudy the night before our climb, preventing the radiant cooling that had dropped night time temps in the previous days. This kept the snowpack wet and near the tipping point when the weak sun struck the face for a couple of hours through the clouds.”

Ten days after the accident, in colder conditions, Simon climbed back to their anchor to try to determine what had happened. He found a sharp edge where the pink rope, oscillating under load during the slide, likely had cut. However, most of the anchor was intact. Fallon’s tether and locking carabiner, which had fallen with her during the second avalanche, also were undamaged. “Why had she come unclipped from the anchor?” Simon wondered. “The only conclusion we can draw is that the screw-gate locker with which Fallon clipped her tether to the master point must have jiggled to the unlocked position during the first avalanche. Then, when she unweighted the tether, the locker must have shifted into a position where it could unclip itself when the second avalanche pushed her back onto her tether.”

A mock setup of pre-rigged rappel devices, where two climbers have set up both of their rappel devices before the first starts down. (Anchor tethers and backups are omitted for clarity.) Click the photo to find a good article exploring the pros and cons of pre-rigging rappels. Photo courtesy of AlpineSavvy.com

Simon might have slid all the way down the mountain during the first avalanche, when the pink rope broke, except for one extra step the two took while preparing to rappel. “Over the last year or two, I have been making a conscious effort to increase my safety margin while climbing,” Simon wrote. “This includes tying knots in the ends of ropes during rappels, using a rappel backup, and using autolocking carabiners and assisted braking belay devices more often. I had recently been toying with pre-rigging rappel devices as well, but was not doing this consistently. For whatever reason, this was one of those times we pre-rigged Fallon’s belay device on the rope, and by snagging the knot joining the ropes after our pink rope cut, it happened to keep me alive.”

Again, we encourage you to read the full report in ANAC 2021 or find it here. We’re grateful to climbers like Simon and Fallon who choose to share such stories, which can be painful or even embarrassing to recount. They teach us that the little things sometimes can make all the difference.


VIA FERRATA LANYARDS RECALLED

In mid-November, Petzl announced a recall of Scorpio Eashook via ferrata lanyards, sold either individually or as part of a via ferrata kit (lanyard, harness, helmet), because of possible malfunctions in the lanyard’s carabiners. The recall affects lanyards with certain serial numbers and manufactured since January 1, 2021; customers who purchased these lanyards are urged to stop using them immediately. See Petzl’s website for details and compensation information.


ROCKFALL AND RESCUE IN ZION NATIONAL PARK

Aaron, 42, and Ian, 16 are a father-son team of adventurous climbers from Tucson, Arizona. In June 2021, with lots of exploratory climbing experience under their belts, they headed to Zion National Park to attempt a relatively obscure route on a cliff informally known as Mt. Greer. On the 12th pitch, gunning for the top of the formation, Aaron was leading a gully and chimney system when the rock under his feet crumbled, sending sandstone blocks tumbling down the gully toward his son. Listen to the new Sharp End podcast to hear all about how they got into this predicament—and how they got out.


The monthly Prescription newsletter is supported by adidas Outdoor and the members of the American Alpine Club. Questions? Suggestions? Write to us at [email protected].

The Prescription - November 2021

The Prescription - November 2021

PETE TAKEDA TO EDIT ACCIDENTS BOOK

The American Alpine Club (AAC) is excited to announce Pete Takeda as the new editor of Accidents in North American Climbing. Pete is a longtime climber and expert in all forms of the sport, from single-pitch routes to big walls to mountain climbs around the world. Based in Colorado, Pete has worked as a writer and filmmaker (with a focus on climbing) for much of his life. He also has been a volunteer and Board Director for the AAC, the American Mountain Guides Association, and other organizations. After seven years at the helm of Accidents, AAC executive editor Dougald MacDonald is stepping aside to put more time into the American Alpine Journal and the AAC’s publications website.

Pete already has begun the transition into his role, starting work on the 2022 edition of Accidents. We asked him to share a few thoughts about the publication and his new job.

Q. When did you first start reading Accidents in North American Climbing?

Pete: I started reading Accidents in the mid-1980s. I had just started with serious climbing and found the accident accounts cautionary, insightful, and morbidly fascinating.

Q. What attracted you to the possibility of editing the publication

Pete: In 2019, I interviewed Jed Williamson as part of a video project for the AAC. Jed was editor of Accidents in North American Mountaineering (changed in 2016 to its current and more accurate title) for 40 years. He spoke about the publication’s history and provided insights into how accidents have followed trends within our sport. He also had a fascinating analysis of the commonalities of most climbing accidents.    

When the job posting came up, I got excited. Not only was it a chance to become more connected with the AAC, but also it dovetailed with my current book project, and the Accidents editor position is essentially a part-time job, one that gives me time to write—and climb.

Q. One of the things that came across in your interviews—and in your writing—is that you seem like an eager student of climbing, even after so many years in the sport. Do you still feel like you have a lot to learn? 

Pete: I love climbing. I’ve given my life to it. Its disciplines are myriad, and one can never master them all. Each style informs the other. To thrive—and in some cases merely survive—one needs to continually learn. While climbing is unified by an elemental struggle against gravity, each game within climbing has its own physical and mental demands, and a distinct set of rewards. In an age of specialization, climbing offers the practitioner many chances to be a beginner again. When one takes on a different game within the sport, one is reminded of why they fell in love with it in the first place. To me, being a student of climbing for almost 40 years is the greatest gift I can imagine.

Q. We searched the archives, and you haven’t ever appeared in Accidents. But have you ever had a climbing accident yourself—or witnessed one—and how do you think this experience might affect your work as editor?

Pete: I’ve had my share of hospital visits, participated in rescues, self-rescued, and witnessed a dozen serious accidents—some with tragic results. I myself have almost been killed a half dozen times—avalanche, rockfall, exposure, and a few really bad falls. I’ve broken bones, lost teeth, starved, been parched, had AMS, gone snow blind, cut finger tendons, suffered superficial frostbite, and have had three major surgeries. Through all this, I’ve managed to self-rescue, or at least drive myself to the hospital.  

“Big Wall Pete” on the cover of a 1993 issue of Climbing.

I’ve also trained as an EMT, so I have a basic understanding of first-line medicine. My body has fortunately survived my youthful (and middle aged) ego. I’ve gained a healthy respect for climbing hazards, and I do not hesitate to ask partners and professionals for advice and training on best practices. My experiences will hopefully provide a sound understanding of accident mechanisms across all the disciplines of climbing. Having suffered loss and injury, those same experiences should also provide a sense of compassion. 

Q. As a longtime reader, you’ve seen some changes in the book. Do you have thoughts on how it might continue to evolve under your leadership?  

Pete: I have a few ideas, but I’ll need to get up to speed and learn the job. One thing to note is that Accidents in North American Climbing represents more than 60 years of accident data and anecdotal descriptions. These are invaluable and should be put to more use. I feel that trends within climbing can be tracked and analyses made. Perhaps stronger partnerships with educational and commercial entities can create and inform existing curricula. We’re reaching the point where, with the explosion of popularity in climbing, organizations could really begin to use this information.  

Q. People start climbing in such different ways than they did when you started a few decades ago. How can Accidents reach more modern climbers and help to educate them?

Pete: More than any other development, the indoor gym has revolutionized climbing. Most climbers today start climbing in gyms. Some can climb incredibly hard yet lack the very basics we once took as a given. Before 1995 or so, most climbers cut their teeth outside. We learned to use hardware and how to stay safe—or suffered the consequences. My hope is that Accidents might emphasize not only the bad things that happen, but also provide ongoing analyses, inform curricula, and work in partnership with groups like the American Mountain Guides Association, the Climbing Wall Association, outdoor companies, and so on to help educate new climbers.

Pete can be reached at [email protected].


SHARP END PODCAST: HAZARDS OF INFORMAL INSTRUCTION

Nick Tollison had been climbing for about three years before he headed to Clark Canyon, outside of Mammoth, California, with a friend and a more experienced acquaintance who had offered to mentor them in multi-pitch climbing. After warming up on some single-pitch climbs, the trio decided to break a long 5.8 pitch into two leads, with a midway hanging belay. During the descent, confusion at the midway anchor led to a potentially fatal fall. Learn more about this accident and the aftermath in Episode 70 of the Sharp End podcast.


ROCKY TALKIE SEARCH & RESCUE AWARD

REMINDER: Applications are being taken for the Rocky Talkie Search & Rescue Award, which will distribute a total of $25,000 to four nonprofit teams from the U.S. or Canada that were involved in a 2021 incident demonstrating their skill, passion, and dedication. Finalists will be chosen by a committee of Rocky Talkie, AAC, and SAR professionals, and the climbing community will vote on the ranking of the final stories. If you’re involved with a deserving Search and Rescue team—or if you were rescued in 2021—please consider sharing your story. Learn more and apply for the Rocky Talkie Search & Rescue Award here!


The monthly Prescription newsletter is supported by adidas Outdoor and the members of the American Alpine Club. Questions? Suggestions? Write to us at [email protected].

The Prescription - October 2021

Cleaning The Fury, the route highlighted in this incident. In order to prevent her swing from pulling the belayer of her feet, this climber has clipped in direct to her lowest draw and then unclipped the belayer’s side of the rope. Once the belayer takes up slack, the climber can clean the draw without causing the belayer to swing. Photo by Johnny Nowell

The Prescription - October 2021

Kentucky, Red River Gorge

Cleaning Error – Belayer Dragged By Climber


My partner (49) and I (33) are very experienced climbers. I had climbed at the Red River Gorge several times, and though it was my partner’s first time here, he has climbed and belayed plenty of steep routes. My background is multi-pitch trad, and his is all sport. We are about the same weight.

On September 8, my partner led The Fury (5.11c sport) at Bibliothek in the Muir Valley. I was tired and didn’t feel like climbing the route, so we decided he would clean it while lowering off. He was clipped into the belayer’s side of the rope with a quickdraw (a.k.a. tramming), as is standard practice when cleaning overhanging routes. At the last quickdraw he said, “You’re going to swing,” so I weighted the rope as much as I could before he cleaned the lowest draw.

I was prepared to swing a few feet, but when he removed the last draw from the route, he was still clipped into my side of the rope. This caused both of us to swing about 20 feet backward. I slammed into a small boulder lying on the ground and then hit a tree. I made contact with one leg just above the ankle, and I think I hit my foot, too. It all hurt right away. I was able to stand and walk slowly, so we hiked out.

I could barely walk for two weeks, and it took months before I was back to climbing. It was not fractured, but likely a severe bone bruise and tendonitis. (Source: Amanda Friedman.)

ANALYSIS

Cleaning the last draw while lowering from an overhanging route is always potentially hazardous, as the climber generally will swing out from the wall. To avoid pulling the belayer into a swing as well, the cleaning climber should completely disconnect from the belayer’s side of the rope before letting go from the wall. The belayer can then brace for the swing before the climber unclips the lowest bolt.

Another option is to leave the first draw on the route while cleaning and then remove it from the ground with a stick clip. (There are video tutorials online for how to do this with most types of stick clips. Here’s a demonstration of quickdraw removal with the popular Betastick Evo.) Muir Valley even has a few stick clips available for climbers to borrow, located underneath the awning by the parking lot. (Source: The Editors.)

This report appears in the 2021 edition of ANAC, where you’ll also find a Know the Ropes feature article describing the ins and outs of cleaning steep routes. ANAC 2019 described a similar cleaning incident in Big Cottonwood Canyon, Utah. Read it here.


THE ROCKY TALKIE SEARCH AND RESCUE AWARD

Photo of YOSAR in action by Drew Smith

The AAC has partnered with Rocky Talkie, makers of climber-friendly two-way radios, to highlight search and rescue teams engaged in outstanding missions during 2021. The Rocky Talkie Search and Rescue Award will distribute a total of $25,000 to four nonprofit teams from the U.S. or Canada whose stories from 2021 demonstrate their skill, passion, and dedication. Either SAR teams or rescued individuals can apply; applications are due by January 31, 2022.

The four finalists will be chosen by a committee of Rocky Talkie, AAC, and SAR professionals, and the climbing community will then vote on the ranking of the final stories. The top vote-getting team will earn $10,000 to support their operations! The finalist’s rescue stories will be described in the 2022 edition of Accidents in North American Climbing.

Nonprofit search and rescue organizations perform many of the rescues covered each year in ANAC, and we are happy to help highlight their stories and raise some money to support their vital missions.

Learn more and apply for the Rocky Talkie Search and Rescue Award here!


BACKCOUNTRY SKI REPAIR: A QUICK REVIEW

Ski touring and winter mountaineering season is right around the corner, so now is a good time to review your repair kit for extended backcountry outings. The sub-three-minute video shown here, featuring IFMGA guide Joey Thompson, offers a quick review of the repair gear he carries and some basic ways to use it. For a deeper dive into the topic, check out this online video and article from ski guide and avalanche forecaster Matt Schonwald. Matt wrote the featured Know the Ropes article about spring and summer avalanches in ANAC 2020. If you missed it, you can read it here.


TWO ROPES CUT YET THE LEADER SURVIVES

The brand-new Sharp End podcast features a terrifying fall on a long route in El Potrero Chico, Mexico. Rockfall on the ninth pitch of a 5.11 bolted route cut both of the leader’s ropes, leading to a very long fall that fortunately ended on a ledge. The climber, Foster Denney, wrote about this incident in ANAC 2019, and now he has spoken about the fall and his rescue with Sharp End hostess Ashley Saupe.


The monthly Prescription newsletter is supported by adidas Outdoor and the members of the American Alpine Club. Questions? Suggestions? Write to us at [email protected].