After scouting out stewardship work for the upcoming Rock Project event, Joe S. (Access Fund) and I racked up for a quick climb up Godzilla and P2 of City Park. We were setting up our rappel from the top when we heard screaming and yelling coming from around the corner followed by a sound no climber ever wants to hear—thud.
“Shit…”
It was 8:23 pm and all climbers but Joe and myself had vacated the Lower Town Wall, a popular cliff at Index. While Joe rapped to the top of Godzilla, I called 911 and told dispatch everything I could without seeing the scene (luckily there was service). When I got to the last rappel I had to temporarily block out everything that was happening around the corner—I didn’t want to make an injurious mistake. In Wilderness First Responder, one of the first things you learn is not to create another patient—take care of yourself, you are your #1.
Response time was quick—by the time I was on the ground, Index Fire and Rescue were on scene with a paramedic and although Joe had to chase down a vehicle on it’s way beyond the incident site, they were there about the time I made it over to the scene. The first person on scene was a climbing guide from Colorado who was camping out of her Sprinter in the nearby lot. She heard the thud and screaming through van walls and headphones about 100 yards away. When she described what the climber’s body looked like when she got there, she used the word “crumpled,” so as you can imagine, things did not look good—“crumpled” should be used to describe a piece of scrap paper, not a human body.
The accident occurred as a result of miscommunication. The belayer took the climber off of belay, likely expecting the climber to rappel. The climber, expecting to be lowered, leaned back and fell 100 feet from the top of Thin Fingers as the belayer desperately tried to hold onto the rope as it raced through her hand burning through skin down to muscle and tendon. Her body helped “cushion” his fall and potentially lent support to his survival. They were both conscious, although it was apparent that he needed to get airlifted to Harborview Medical Center ASAP. Within an hour, he was driven to the nearby town of Gold Bar where he and the responders were met by a helicopter. His belayer was also backboarded out and had her own list of injuries.
He did not die and he was damn lucky.
Thoughts and Take-aways
Communication Communication Communication—many climbing accidents are the result of poor communication and a failure to complete critical safety checks—do this every climb, every pitch, every rappel. Both climbers involved had enough experience to know how to safely manage the situation. But as we know, even experienced climbers make mistakes. Just look at Lynn Hill and Phil Powers.
Do yourself and your friends a favor and get some first aid training. If you can’t afford it, there are other resources like books and Google. When you rope up with someone, you are accepting a large degree of responsibility for their safety. If something were to go wrong, an immediate rescue is not guaranteed (even if you are close to a road system). If you are on the scene of an emergency, provide support if necessary, be available, and stay out of the way (if there are responders with a higher level of training/ confidence).
Respect closures– As climbers, this isn’t always the first thing we think about. I’ll use the current situation at Index as an example. The Washington State Department of Natural Resources (DNR) put a closure on climbing/ hiking/ access to specific cliffs due to a recent fire in the area. Climbers have been ignoring the closures despite visible signage due to a perceived lack of danger. But, if DNR were to be unable to drop water on a fire area because of climbers in the vicinity, it would create a direct conflict with the land managers (in this case DNR) and climbers. Likewise, if an accident were to occur in an area temporarily closed to climbing, DNR has the ultimate say—if they see problems occuring, they are liable to close the area entirely. So, respect closures—we don’t want to jeopardize access to climbing.
Good trails=safe and efficient rescues– If this climber had fallen in the area where Joe and I were scouting out project work, it would have been a monumentally challenging task to safely evacuate the patients. The trail we used to evacuate this climber was about 1/10th of a mile from the road and was in good shape and was still a challenge. Imagine what a litter carry would look like on uneven steep terrain further in. Well maintained trails provide safe exits for efficient rescues. Volunteer—get involved in local stewardship projects. Look to the Access Fund and local climbers coalitions for support and information. Bolts don’t replace themselves and trails don’t magically appear!
Educate yourself and others– find mentors, devour climbing literature, respect the
terrain
Wear a helmet– The climbers in this incident didn’t. At the moment, it is not clear whether or not this climber will walk away with permanent brain injury. Why wear one? It may not be clear if there are climbing parties above the route you are on; you may accidentally get your leg caught behind the rope, fall, and flip upside down while leading; why not? I don’t think there was ever a climber who walked away from an accident saying, “damn I wish I hadn’t had that helmet on.”
Don’t stop climbing, Do double check everything—your knots, your lowering plan, climbing commands, etc.
I don’t want any of you to ever have to experience what happened last night on any level,so please, take these things seriously and go get out there and have some fun.
Climb on,
Joe