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Reading a number of threads recently regarding gear, accidents, wild times etc, it got me wondering how many folk have had a moment climbing when you thought - this is it, I'm gonna die!
I'm not talking about epics when you had a close call, or a fall where you thought 'oh shit' I 'might' get killed here - but a situation where you really, genuinely thought your time was up?
Like most people who've been climbing for many years, I've had my share of epics and near misses, but I can only think of two occasions when I actually thought I was finished.
The first was while soloing the Grutter Integrale on the Aigulle des Pelerins.
I was high up the route, when a flake I was pulling up on snapped off. It threw me completely off balance, and I fell, twisting in the air in the process. By some fluke, I somehow landed on a tiny sloping ledge about 15' below, facing outwards. However, the momentum of my fall made me topple forward off the ledge. I was utterly convinced this was it, and I was going to fall about 1,200' to my death. It was a horrific moment. Yet, by pure luck (or miracle) one of the axe loops on my sac, caught on a small spike, and stopped me falling. This all happened in the space of about maybe 10 seconds.
I stood on that ledge for about an hour, shaking like a leaf, until after about four fags, I managed to compose myself enough to get some gear in, get the rope out of my sac, and begin an abseil retreat.
The other time, was the second of my well documented epic retreats from the Eiger NF.
On that last bivi, on our 5th day on the face, after after battling back down for 3 days through an appalling storm, I was exhausted, numbed with cold, frostbitten, injured, bleeding, battered and bruised.
I just slumped down on the ledge, smoked my last fag, put my head down into my chest and thought f*ck it, I'm going to die tonight, and I really don't care anymore.
The reason I'm still here to recall those two events, is nothing whatsoever to do with me, and I suppose it just proves, that however experienced or good we think we are, the reason many of us are still around, is because of a bit of good fortune, or maybe the grace of the Gods?
Oh, and I have to say, that on neither of these two occasions, did my life flash in front of me to provide a final bit of entertainment
I'm not talking about epics when you had a close call, or a fall where you thought 'oh shit' I 'might' get killed here - but a situation where you really, genuinely thought your time was up?
Like most people who've been climbing for many years, I've had my share of epics and near misses, but I can only think of two occasions when I actually thought I was finished.
The first was while soloing the Grutter Integrale on the Aigulle des Pelerins.
I was high up the route, when a flake I was pulling up on snapped off. It threw me completely off balance, and I fell, twisting in the air in the process. By some fluke, I somehow landed on a tiny sloping ledge about 15' below, facing outwards. However, the momentum of my fall made me topple forward off the ledge. I was utterly convinced this was it, and I was going to fall about 1,200' to my death. It was a horrific moment. Yet, by pure luck (or miracle) one of the axe loops on my sac, caught on a small spike, and stopped me falling. This all happened in the space of about maybe 10 seconds.
I stood on that ledge for about an hour, shaking like a leaf, until after about four fags, I managed to compose myself enough to get some gear in, get the rope out of my sac, and begin an abseil retreat.
The other time, was the second of my well documented epic retreats from the Eiger NF.
On that last bivi, on our 5th day on the face, after after battling back down for 3 days through an appalling storm, I was exhausted, numbed with cold, frostbitten, injured, bleeding, battered and bruised.
I just slumped down on the ledge, smoked my last fag, put my head down into my chest and thought f*ck it, I'm going to die tonight, and I really don't care anymore.
The reason I'm still here to recall those two events, is nothing whatsoever to do with me, and I suppose it just proves, that however experienced or good we think we are, the reason many of us are still around, is because of a bit of good fortune, or maybe the grace of the Gods?
Oh, and I have to say, that on neither of these two occasions, did my life flash in front of me to provide a final bit of entertainment
47
18
In reply to Goucho:
My second Alpine climb ( my first having been completed on the neighbouring mountain the previous day) on Dione in the Tantalus Range in British Columbia. 4 of us made the climb, and we were making an abseil descent down the couloir. 3 of us had anchored to a stone pillar and were preparing to make the descent ( the fourth had wisely made his own independent anchor on the wall of the couloir ).
As soon as the first of our party weighted the pillar, it shattered, sending all three of us hurtling down the couloir under the inexorable force of gravity. I think in the end the fact that we were in close proximity and roped together we picked up enough snow to slow and eventually stop our descent. I experienced that 'time slowing down' phenomenon, and it felt like we were falling forever, but it was probably just seconds.
I consider myself fortunate to have learned never to take abseils for granted, a lesson some mountaineers don't survive the learning of.
I don't smoke, but the benefit of a helicoptered approach meant that we had some local Canadian lager in a snow bucket back at the hut.
My second Alpine climb ( my first having been completed on the neighbouring mountain the previous day) on Dione in the Tantalus Range in British Columbia. 4 of us made the climb, and we were making an abseil descent down the couloir. 3 of us had anchored to a stone pillar and were preparing to make the descent ( the fourth had wisely made his own independent anchor on the wall of the couloir ).
As soon as the first of our party weighted the pillar, it shattered, sending all three of us hurtling down the couloir under the inexorable force of gravity. I think in the end the fact that we were in close proximity and roped together we picked up enough snow to slow and eventually stop our descent. I experienced that 'time slowing down' phenomenon, and it felt like we were falling forever, but it was probably just seconds.
I consider myself fortunate to have learned never to take abseils for granted, a lesson some mountaineers don't survive the learning of.
I don't smoke, but the benefit of a helicoptered approach meant that we had some local Canadian lager in a snow bucket back at the hut.
Post edited at 17:00
4
In reply to Goucho:
Mild by comparison but I was a wreck at the time...
On a sparsely bolted friction slab near annecy I found myself 45 metres into a 30 metre pitch with the last bolt at about 15-20m. No sign of a belay anywhere and just one bolt visible somewhere over to my left. I had to traverse about 5 metres on dirty smears and slopers (at the time it felt about 5c but it was probably more like 5a...) and when I got there the bolt was a completely rusty home made job which I abbed off. When I got down I toughed it out for about 5 minutes when I suddenly vomited and burst into tears.
Mild by comparison but I was a wreck at the time...
On a sparsely bolted friction slab near annecy I found myself 45 metres into a 30 metre pitch with the last bolt at about 15-20m. No sign of a belay anywhere and just one bolt visible somewhere over to my left. I had to traverse about 5 metres on dirty smears and slopers (at the time it felt about 5c but it was probably more like 5a...) and when I got there the bolt was a completely rusty home made job which I abbed off. When I got down I toughed it out for about 5 minutes when I suddenly vomited and burst into tears.
Post edited at 17:16
11
In reply to Goucho:
Twice. Both times on the North Face of the Eiger and we had two days to think about it on the second occasion.
Al
Twice. Both times on the North Face of the Eiger and we had two days to think about it on the second occasion.
Al
In reply to Goucho:
A couple of years ago i had arranged to rendevouz with some friends for one of their Birthdays on top of a crag where we planned to bivy the night.
They where running late so I decided to head up on my own.
The weather was shocking that night with heavy rain, so when I set off up the rockface everything was soaking...
As I neared the top I slipped!
As others have described, time slowed right down as I felt myself peeling away from the rock heading for a certain death fall
in a panic I scrabbled at the rock trying to find purchase, then after what seemed like an age my fingers located a ring-lock which I used to arrest my fall!
Im not gonna lie, I swore a little and cursed my stupidity for even doing the climb in the first place as it was completely unnecessary but im not one to turn down adventure.
I laugh about it now, but at the time I really did think my life was over due to a stupid mistake.
Then there was the time a load of us were heading to Coniston, we skidded sideways on black ice at a junction of a main road with a semi bearing down on us, obviously we stopped before tragedy struck but at the time I though our cards were marked, another 2ft and it would of been curtains!
Incidents like this serve to reinforce my view that life can be very fragile, so make the most of it!
A couple of years ago i had arranged to rendevouz with some friends for one of their Birthdays on top of a crag where we planned to bivy the night.
They where running late so I decided to head up on my own.
The weather was shocking that night with heavy rain, so when I set off up the rockface everything was soaking...
As I neared the top I slipped!
As others have described, time slowed right down as I felt myself peeling away from the rock heading for a certain death fall
in a panic I scrabbled at the rock trying to find purchase, then after what seemed like an age my fingers located a ring-lock which I used to arrest my fall!
Im not gonna lie, I swore a little and cursed my stupidity for even doing the climb in the first place as it was completely unnecessary but im not one to turn down adventure.
I laugh about it now, but at the time I really did think my life was over due to a stupid mistake.
Then there was the time a load of us were heading to Coniston, we skidded sideways on black ice at a junction of a main road with a semi bearing down on us, obviously we stopped before tragedy struck but at the time I though our cards were marked, another 2ft and it would of been curtains!
Incidents like this serve to reinforce my view that life can be very fragile, so make the most of it!
7
1
In reply to Goucho:
When I was 16, my first winter mountain was Beinn Narnain, close to Glasgow and that...
Anyway I chose to scramble up the front rather than an approach around the back. It was early season conditions with a light dusting ("it can't be too bad") and ice refrozen into all the hollows and paths. I had no axe or crampons, and got into a point of no return. In one particular moment (faced with a wall, short but steep), sheer, utter terror descended and entirely overtook me. You can't describe how that feels, it's unfiltered horror of a depth that words won't touch.
All I remember is I never, ever want to feel that again.
Two things - it put me off any kind of climbing for years. I walked hills instead. I got really paranoid around any kind of steep mountainside and it took a lot of easing back into it to get past that.
Years later I went back once I was romping around the hills, and the place that it happened was a complete non-event - much more gentle than I remembered. Odd how things change.
When I was 16, my first winter mountain was Beinn Narnain, close to Glasgow and that...
Anyway I chose to scramble up the front rather than an approach around the back. It was early season conditions with a light dusting ("it can't be too bad") and ice refrozen into all the hollows and paths. I had no axe or crampons, and got into a point of no return. In one particular moment (faced with a wall, short but steep), sheer, utter terror descended and entirely overtook me. You can't describe how that feels, it's unfiltered horror of a depth that words won't touch.
All I remember is I never, ever want to feel that again.
Two things - it put me off any kind of climbing for years. I walked hills instead. I got really paranoid around any kind of steep mountainside and it took a lot of easing back into it to get past that.
Years later I went back once I was romping around the hills, and the place that it happened was a complete non-event - much more gentle than I remembered. Odd how things change.
Post edited at 17:26
4
In reply to Goucho:
After being struck by lightning whilst climbing a new route in the Cordillera Huayhuash. I thought my partner was dead (fortunately he was just unconscious and came round) I still remember thinking
1. How am I going to do CPR with all his gear on in this storm
2. What’s the point considering our location
3. How are we going to get his body down and what am I going to tell his family?
- all very traumatic but we had a good laugh about it during the night in an unplanned exposed bivi sufferfest.
The worst bit was sitting on the ridge sorting some anchors out so we could get some shelter – with sparks flying off our gear just waiting for it to happen again.
Saying that my mate who was with us (we were climbing in two teams of two) still says that being caught out in a bad storm on the cairngorm plateau was way worse.
Oh - and i also just remember i went up to me chest through a Cornice in Alaska this year - that was terrifying
After being struck by lightning whilst climbing a new route in the Cordillera Huayhuash. I thought my partner was dead (fortunately he was just unconscious and came round) I still remember thinking
1. How am I going to do CPR with all his gear on in this storm
2. What’s the point considering our location
3. How are we going to get his body down and what am I going to tell his family?
- all very traumatic but we had a good laugh about it during the night in an unplanned exposed bivi sufferfest.
The worst bit was sitting on the ridge sorting some anchors out so we could get some shelter – with sparks flying off our gear just waiting for it to happen again.
Saying that my mate who was with us (we were climbing in two teams of two) still says that being caught out in a bad storm on the cairngorm plateau was way worse.
Oh - and i also just remember i went up to me chest through a Cornice in Alaska this year - that was terrifying
Post edited at 17:33
9
In reply to Hat Dude:
Totally
> Jesus! the first of those is definitely more than a four fag moment!!!!
Totally
In reply to Goucho:
Soloing a steep Cheddar [Severe? HVD?] I pulled on the top of a pinnacle [8-10 feet high?] The top detached and it swung out to a 45 degree angle. It almost peeled off but stopped. I was left hanging onto the tip, in space, followed by a rapid pull up then exit left.
Soloing a steep Cheddar [Severe? HVD?] I pulled on the top of a pinnacle [8-10 feet high?] The top detached and it swung out to a 45 degree angle. It almost peeled off but stopped. I was left hanging onto the tip, in space, followed by a rapid pull up then exit left.
Post edited at 17:54
3
In reply to Goucho:
Your experience confirms me in my belief that there is no serious Alpinist who at some stage has not been lucky to get away with it. Two of the three occasions I did so was a mixture of luck and doing the right thing, but the one that meets your criteria fully is when we went to do the Guglierminia. We were late and after abbing the Col Innominata only had an hour's daylight left to try and cross the contorted Frêney Glacier and reach the Vires Schneider. Access to possibly easier ground was offered by a sérac above an impressive crevasse, whose lower part was covered by slushy snow. As we climbed it I remarked to Simon that a fall here would be fatal. Shortly afterwards we found ourselves at a dead end and were forced to return and Simon started reversing the serac. There was no question of a belay, we had no ice screws and only an axe each. So I threw down the last useless coils and started teetering down the 60º ice at the top using both hands. As Simon reached the mushy snow I saw his feet shoot off and I knew exactly what was going to happen. "Oh my God we're dead!" I yelled as the rope came tight on me. I suppose I must have tried breaking since I was still clutching my axe as I went over the lip. Suddenly I jammed and the snow piled in on top of me.
Ones mind seems to operate at two levels in such situations: so this is what it is like to be buried alive, I thought dispassionately as I looked up at the overhanging wall of ice. No way of getting back up that. "Are you alright John?" an anxious voice yelled from somewhere in the remote world outside. "Well, at least I'm alive" I laconically replied. As I tried to turn around a shooting pain cut through my side, my feet flapped in space and I felt my ribs glugging in liquid. Now I could see the crevasse yawning to my right: three feet further along and we'd both have been killed. Perhaps for the first and only time in my climbing life I was afraid, really afraid. "Simon, for God's sake hold me," I yelled in uncontrolled panic as I tried to turn around. Now I could see the ice wall behind was less steep and realised that I had to make an ally of my fear if I was to act before my strength ran out.
"Can you stay where you are?" Simon yelled. "No, for God's sake hold me" I ordered peremptorily. Concerned only with my own predicament I had not considered his problem. In fact he had managed to brake and was holding me over the tip of his ice axe and from his own precarious position was trying to pull me up. Or so he thought unaware that in fact I'd stopped because I'd wedged. So I started trying to climb the ice behind. Suddenly the slope flattened to a small ledge and I was able to walk along it to the edge of the crevasse and easy ground.
Your experience confirms me in my belief that there is no serious Alpinist who at some stage has not been lucky to get away with it. Two of the three occasions I did so was a mixture of luck and doing the right thing, but the one that meets your criteria fully is when we went to do the Guglierminia. We were late and after abbing the Col Innominata only had an hour's daylight left to try and cross the contorted Frêney Glacier and reach the Vires Schneider. Access to possibly easier ground was offered by a sérac above an impressive crevasse, whose lower part was covered by slushy snow. As we climbed it I remarked to Simon that a fall here would be fatal. Shortly afterwards we found ourselves at a dead end and were forced to return and Simon started reversing the serac. There was no question of a belay, we had no ice screws and only an axe each. So I threw down the last useless coils and started teetering down the 60º ice at the top using both hands. As Simon reached the mushy snow I saw his feet shoot off and I knew exactly what was going to happen. "Oh my God we're dead!" I yelled as the rope came tight on me. I suppose I must have tried breaking since I was still clutching my axe as I went over the lip. Suddenly I jammed and the snow piled in on top of me.
Ones mind seems to operate at two levels in such situations: so this is what it is like to be buried alive, I thought dispassionately as I looked up at the overhanging wall of ice. No way of getting back up that. "Are you alright John?" an anxious voice yelled from somewhere in the remote world outside. "Well, at least I'm alive" I laconically replied. As I tried to turn around a shooting pain cut through my side, my feet flapped in space and I felt my ribs glugging in liquid. Now I could see the crevasse yawning to my right: three feet further along and we'd both have been killed. Perhaps for the first and only time in my climbing life I was afraid, really afraid. "Simon, for God's sake hold me," I yelled in uncontrolled panic as I tried to turn around. Now I could see the ice wall behind was less steep and realised that I had to make an ally of my fear if I was to act before my strength ran out.
"Can you stay where you are?" Simon yelled. "No, for God's sake hold me" I ordered peremptorily. Concerned only with my own predicament I had not considered his problem. In fact he had managed to brake and was holding me over the tip of his ice axe and from his own precarious position was trying to pull me up. Or so he thought unaware that in fact I'd stopped because I'd wedged. So I started trying to climb the ice behind. Suddenly the slope flattened to a small ledge and I was able to walk along it to the edge of the crevasse and easy ground.
Post edited at 19:23
11
In reply to Goucho:
I once made a very fast descent of South Post. Flying through the air over all the ice pitches, curled into a fetal ball, eyes screwed shut I thought "Fk, this is going to hurt and then I'll die!".
I didn't though.
I once made a very fast descent of South Post. Flying through the air over all the ice pitches, curled into a fetal ball, eyes screwed shut I thought "Fk, this is going to hurt and then I'll die!".
I didn't though.
6
In reply to Goucho:
The answer to this question all depends on whether you are in control of the circumstance or not. I have soloed quite a few ice climbs, some grade 5 and felt OK, but when things start to go wrong then the heavy breathing starts, or the situation slowly creeps upon you until it dawns that, Hey! This is serious.
The one that is seared in my memory was in my early days of climbing in the early 70's on Cioch Grooves in Coire Lagan (no nut runners available). The description mentioned a peg at the crux but it was missing and I had no gear for 60/70 feet. As I was holding some under-clings at the time, I couldn't hang on for long so I had to quickly sort out the 5a/b moves through the crux, a sequence of 3/4 moves before the climbing eased and thankfully a bomber runner. Needless to say that my second took a flyer from the same move, an option that wasn't an option for me!
Another occasion in the mid 60's was as a schoolboy descending a gully off Scafell Pike (bad navigation by the teacher), and somebody above dislodged a very large boulder (fridge size!) that came bounding down the gully straight for me. Quite calmly I decided to dive underneath the rock as it bounced down and it shot over my head. My legs were trembling afterwards!
Life has been much more calmer in recent years. Is this down to experience, avoiding serious situations or good luck?
The answer to this question all depends on whether you are in control of the circumstance or not. I have soloed quite a few ice climbs, some grade 5 and felt OK, but when things start to go wrong then the heavy breathing starts, or the situation slowly creeps upon you until it dawns that, Hey! This is serious.
The one that is seared in my memory was in my early days of climbing in the early 70's on Cioch Grooves in Coire Lagan (no nut runners available). The description mentioned a peg at the crux but it was missing and I had no gear for 60/70 feet. As I was holding some under-clings at the time, I couldn't hang on for long so I had to quickly sort out the 5a/b moves through the crux, a sequence of 3/4 moves before the climbing eased and thankfully a bomber runner. Needless to say that my second took a flyer from the same move, an option that wasn't an option for me!
Another occasion in the mid 60's was as a schoolboy descending a gully off Scafell Pike (bad navigation by the teacher), and somebody above dislodged a very large boulder (fridge size!) that came bounding down the gully straight for me. Quite calmly I decided to dive underneath the rock as it bounced down and it shot over my head. My legs were trembling afterwards!
Life has been much more calmer in recent years. Is this down to experience, avoiding serious situations or good luck?
5
In reply to Goucho:
Climbing up a steep snow slope in Norway and it started to slide with me on it. A couple of hundred feet lower down the whole slope disappeared over a huge rock face.
As the slabs knocked me around I managed to face outwards, ditched the rucksack and remember thinking, and worrying or wondering whether the death that was to come might hurt.
A second or two later the bit I was on was stopped by the only bulge along the entire length of the slope. The relief!!
My two companions who'd not been caught looked absolutely stunned and shocked and wouldn't climb any more that day.
Climbing up a steep snow slope in Norway and it started to slide with me on it. A couple of hundred feet lower down the whole slope disappeared over a huge rock face.
As the slabs knocked me around I managed to face outwards, ditched the rucksack and remember thinking, and worrying or wondering whether the death that was to come might hurt.
A second or two later the bit I was on was stopped by the only bulge along the entire length of the slope. The relief!!
My two companions who'd not been caught looked absolutely stunned and shocked and wouldn't climb any more that day.
7
In reply to Goucho:
Papa Prusiks had a friend who had perhaps the best close call story I've heard...
He was soloing a long ice climb all going well until he reached the the very top to find 10ft of completely clean shear rock. Unable to turn back he attempted the rock and fell from the very top. This resulted in a 600ft fall on to a snow slope, watched by two horrified walkers.
The first thing he shouted as he poked his head out of the snow was "Oi! Rescue me you bastards!". Got him in the local paper that did.
Papa Prusiks had a friend who had perhaps the best close call story I've heard...
He was soloing a long ice climb all going well until he reached the the very top to find 10ft of completely clean shear rock. Unable to turn back he attempted the rock and fell from the very top. This resulted in a 600ft fall on to a snow slope, watched by two horrified walkers.
The first thing he shouted as he poked his head out of the snow was "Oi! Rescue me you bastards!". Got him in the local paper that did.
16
In reply to Goucho:
Stooging around on skis on a glacier in Argentiere I suddenly found myself on green ice and heading over an ice cliff. My skis clattered out from under me, my hip hit the edge and over I went, straight into a crevasse. I remember thinking "broken legs at best - keep them together like parachutists do!" Amazingly the crevasse was choked up with old snow about 20' down, on which I landed on my feet. Then it dawned on me that my buddy was right behind me so I threw myself to the side and half a second later he crash landed in the same spot, falling on his front and dislocating his shoulder.
Setting up a toprope at Causey Quarry I tripped over a root and plunged head first for the edge. My flailing hand caught a root and I finished up with half my body over the edge, staring straight into the shocked eyes of my girlfriend 50' below me.
Each occasion seemed like one of my nine lives lost.
Stooging around on skis on a glacier in Argentiere I suddenly found myself on green ice and heading over an ice cliff. My skis clattered out from under me, my hip hit the edge and over I went, straight into a crevasse. I remember thinking "broken legs at best - keep them together like parachutists do!" Amazingly the crevasse was choked up with old snow about 20' down, on which I landed on my feet. Then it dawned on me that my buddy was right behind me so I threw myself to the side and half a second later he crash landed in the same spot, falling on his front and dislocating his shoulder.
Setting up a toprope at Causey Quarry I tripped over a root and plunged head first for the edge. My flailing hand caught a root and I finished up with half my body over the edge, staring straight into the shocked eyes of my girlfriend 50' below me.
Each occasion seemed like one of my nine lives lost.
5
In reply to Goucho:
I've had a few of these. A life on motorbikes and being an idiot haven't really taught me as much as it should do. However, the numerous trips to casualty have made me relatively immune to lesser fears.
In a younger and flightier life, I was racing a friend through St Albans on motorbikes, he went down the High Street, I took some back roads. These were lined both sides with cars, and made fairly narrow. As I went through a set of lights (green!) at 60mph, there was a car coming the other way. That's OK, I have just enough space to clear him on my side of the road. At that point a lorry fully opened it's door in my path, with about 15 yards to go. I was definitely going to be decapitated, form the chest up. As there was nothing on earth that I could possibly do, I closed my eyes. When I opened them, I was still barrelling along the road. No idea what happened. Eek.
Many years of proper racing followed, but as things happen at very high speeds a sense of impending death never fully embeds. When I hit a barrier at 130mph head on after brake failure, it all happened so fast I have no recollection of fear.
More recently, I was soloing at Stanage by headtorch. I thought this would be a good idea and an exciting venture. Turns out I was a tw*t again. I was trying to top out a sequence of moves on a VS, and needed to find a tiny foothold. Sadly, it was in the dark and I couldn't lean back to light it up with the headtorch, and all the while my hands are slowly sliding off the flat slab. It gave me the time to think "I'm going to die now. Someone will have to tell my mum how I did this. This is really embarrassing." As it happens, my foot did snag the foothold as my fingertips had reached the edge of the slab ledge, I finished the route and promised I would never solo by headtorch ever again.
I've had a few of these. A life on motorbikes and being an idiot haven't really taught me as much as it should do. However, the numerous trips to casualty have made me relatively immune to lesser fears.
In a younger and flightier life, I was racing a friend through St Albans on motorbikes, he went down the High Street, I took some back roads. These were lined both sides with cars, and made fairly narrow. As I went through a set of lights (green!) at 60mph, there was a car coming the other way. That's OK, I have just enough space to clear him on my side of the road. At that point a lorry fully opened it's door in my path, with about 15 yards to go. I was definitely going to be decapitated, form the chest up. As there was nothing on earth that I could possibly do, I closed my eyes. When I opened them, I was still barrelling along the road. No idea what happened. Eek.
Many years of proper racing followed, but as things happen at very high speeds a sense of impending death never fully embeds. When I hit a barrier at 130mph head on after brake failure, it all happened so fast I have no recollection of fear.
More recently, I was soloing at Stanage by headtorch. I thought this would be a good idea and an exciting venture. Turns out I was a tw*t again. I was trying to top out a sequence of moves on a VS, and needed to find a tiny foothold. Sadly, it was in the dark and I couldn't lean back to light it up with the headtorch, and all the while my hands are slowly sliding off the flat slab. It gave me the time to think "I'm going to die now. Someone will have to tell my mum how I did this. This is really embarrassing." As it happens, my foot did snag the foothold as my fingertips had reached the edge of the slab ledge, I finished the route and promised I would never solo by headtorch ever again.
3
2
In reply to Goucho:
Some of these stories are amazing! I have been riveted by nearly all of these posts. I wonder if there has been a similar thread with people discussing others who have drawn the short straw in calamitous mountaineering incidents.
I haven't got any near death experiences (...yet?), so unfortunately can't contribute.
Some of these stories are amazing! I have been riveted by nearly all of these posts. I wonder if there has been a similar thread with people discussing others who have drawn the short straw in calamitous mountaineering incidents.
I haven't got any near death experiences (...yet?), so unfortunately can't contribute.
1
In reply to Goucho:
I don't think I really have the presence of mind at the time to think "this is it". It's more a case of realising after the fact that I am only still alive through luck.
The three that immediately jump to mind were all loose blocks.
1) Partner pulled a boulder bigger than me off, it didn't miss me by much.
2) I pulled a block that was bigger than me almost off on lead. When I had finished swearing, moved to the side and belayed, I trundled it after my parnter led through. Turns out my pull on lead was about 95% of the movement needed for it to go. It landed where my belayer had been (and anchored). Would have killed both of us.
3) I pulled another loose block off (and fell off myself in the process). It landed on partners leg and injured him. A foot to the side and it would have landed on his head and killed him and with no belayer, I doubt I would have survived the 50m or so free fall onto a ledge.
Lets face it though, we are all very lucky. I mean, how many people actually get their tickets punched in a given year? It's such a tiny number I reckon you probably have about 30 times as high a chance of a lucky escape as you have of a deserved death.
I don't think I really have the presence of mind at the time to think "this is it". It's more a case of realising after the fact that I am only still alive through luck.
The three that immediately jump to mind were all loose blocks.
1) Partner pulled a boulder bigger than me off, it didn't miss me by much.
2) I pulled a block that was bigger than me almost off on lead. When I had finished swearing, moved to the side and belayed, I trundled it after my parnter led through. Turns out my pull on lead was about 95% of the movement needed for it to go. It landed where my belayer had been (and anchored). Would have killed both of us.
3) I pulled another loose block off (and fell off myself in the process). It landed on partners leg and injured him. A foot to the side and it would have landed on his head and killed him and with no belayer, I doubt I would have survived the 50m or so free fall onto a ledge.
Lets face it though, we are all very lucky. I mean, how many people actually get their tickets punched in a given year? It's such a tiny number I reckon you probably have about 30 times as high a chance of a lucky escape as you have of a deserved death.
2
In reply to Goucho:
Interesting topic Goucho, I was thinking of submitting a similar thread myself- already you have some impressive input. With avalanches and a terrible head on car crash I have probably used up three or four of my "nine", but the nearest I came to meeting my maker I would have known nothing about.
In October 1960 I was instructing in North Wales when I hitch hiked to the Lakes for the weekend even though I did not feel too well. I met up with my girlfriend (Marlene) in the Sugarloaf pub in Manchester and remember characters like Graham West and Paul Nunn, who I knew. We left the pub and hitched through the night and it rained nonstop. I did a couple of climbs in Langdale , had a meal and went to the ODG.
On return to the tent I was cold and shivering and lit the primus for warmth. I had taken a Blacks mountain tent from the centre and sealed both the large and small vents but I was still cold and the primus kept going out. I refilled it twice with paraffin but it still went out and we were both pretty dozy at this stage ! Eventually Marlene says that there is no oxygen in this tent - if we had fell asleep we would have been history !
Thank you Marlene, you saved our lives that night.
Ironically, a year or two later two lads died tragically in Langdale doing the same in an A-35 van
Interesting topic Goucho, I was thinking of submitting a similar thread myself- already you have some impressive input. With avalanches and a terrible head on car crash I have probably used up three or four of my "nine", but the nearest I came to meeting my maker I would have known nothing about.
In October 1960 I was instructing in North Wales when I hitch hiked to the Lakes for the weekend even though I did not feel too well. I met up with my girlfriend (Marlene) in the Sugarloaf pub in Manchester and remember characters like Graham West and Paul Nunn, who I knew. We left the pub and hitched through the night and it rained nonstop. I did a couple of climbs in Langdale , had a meal and went to the ODG.
On return to the tent I was cold and shivering and lit the primus for warmth. I had taken a Blacks mountain tent from the centre and sealed both the large and small vents but I was still cold and the primus kept going out. I refilled it twice with paraffin but it still went out and we were both pretty dozy at this stage ! Eventually Marlene says that there is no oxygen in this tent - if we had fell asleep we would have been history !
Thank you Marlene, you saved our lives that night.
Ironically, a year or two later two lads died tragically in Langdale doing the same in an A-35 van
2
In reply to Goucho:
I got to the top of the final pitch of a longish route in the Dollies. the "top" was a ledge covered in 45-degree sugar cubes, but there was a very large (small car size) block which I was able to loop the rope round and tie-off. I squashed my backside into the scree a little down and right of the belay, took in slack, put my mate on belay, and he started to climb.
Shortly thereafter there was a grinding sound behind me; I twisted round to see the block had started sliding down the scree. I was frantically trying to flick the rope free when it stopped, having travelled perhaps a metre and with about the same to go to the lip.
I then gingerly took the rope off. My mate was a little concerned to find no belay and me jibbering.
I got to the top of the final pitch of a longish route in the Dollies. the "top" was a ledge covered in 45-degree sugar cubes, but there was a very large (small car size) block which I was able to loop the rope round and tie-off. I squashed my backside into the scree a little down and right of the belay, took in slack, put my mate on belay, and he started to climb.
Shortly thereafter there was a grinding sound behind me; I twisted round to see the block had started sliding down the scree. I was frantically trying to flick the rope free when it stopped, having travelled perhaps a metre and with about the same to go to the lip.
I then gingerly took the rope off. My mate was a little concerned to find no belay and me jibbering.
5
In reply to jcw:
I've always thought the same regarding 'being lucky' from time to time.
The only reason I survived that last night on the Eiger, was that at some point during the night, the storm broke - if it had carried on raging, I would certainly have perished.
It's funny, I remember waking up in the early hours of the morning, and every thing was still. The last four days, the noise had been bedlam - you know that sound an alpine storm makes, well it's worse on the Eiger, avalanches, stonefall, and because of the concave nature of the face, the wind whips everything round, it's like being in a washing machine with a freight train carrying ball bearings - but now everything was quiet, and there was a cloud inversion below us.
By this stage, as well as everything else, I was undoubtedly in the advance stage of hypothermia, and no longer felt either cold or pain - it was a bit like that feeling you get after a particularly good spliff. However, my first thought was 'Oh, I'm dead, and this must be heaven'. I thought any minute now, St Peter accompanied by family and friends will come and greet me.
Then as I looked around, I realised I was still on a ledge about a ropes length above the Difficult Crack. But I still thought I was dead, only I'd gone to hell (quite plausable) and that hell was obviously spending eternity on a ledge on the Eiger NF.
It was only when my partner suddenly yelled 'Yes, I knew I had a couple of those in here somewhere', and handed me an amphetamine tab, that I realised we'd survived.
"We'll have a brew, and then we'll be off this f*cker in a couple of hours" he smiled through blistered and cracked lips, the side of his face covered in blood where a stone had smashed his helmet the previous day.
With the help of my partner - I would never have survived without him, he was the hero of many hours during those 3 days - a brew and the amphetamine tab, we did in fact make it down about three hours later.
I've always thought the same regarding 'being lucky' from time to time.
The only reason I survived that last night on the Eiger, was that at some point during the night, the storm broke - if it had carried on raging, I would certainly have perished.
It's funny, I remember waking up in the early hours of the morning, and every thing was still. The last four days, the noise had been bedlam - you know that sound an alpine storm makes, well it's worse on the Eiger, avalanches, stonefall, and because of the concave nature of the face, the wind whips everything round, it's like being in a washing machine with a freight train carrying ball bearings - but now everything was quiet, and there was a cloud inversion below us.
By this stage, as well as everything else, I was undoubtedly in the advance stage of hypothermia, and no longer felt either cold or pain - it was a bit like that feeling you get after a particularly good spliff. However, my first thought was 'Oh, I'm dead, and this must be heaven'. I thought any minute now, St Peter accompanied by family and friends will come and greet me.
Then as I looked around, I realised I was still on a ledge about a ropes length above the Difficult Crack. But I still thought I was dead, only I'd gone to hell (quite plausable) and that hell was obviously spending eternity on a ledge on the Eiger NF.
It was only when my partner suddenly yelled 'Yes, I knew I had a couple of those in here somewhere', and handed me an amphetamine tab, that I realised we'd survived.
"We'll have a brew, and then we'll be off this f*cker in a couple of hours" he smiled through blistered and cracked lips, the side of his face covered in blood where a stone had smashed his helmet the previous day.
With the help of my partner - I would never have survived without him, he was the hero of many hours during those 3 days - a brew and the amphetamine tab, we did in fact make it down about three hours later.
17
In reply to Goucho:
The worst moments are when it is out of your control!
Winter climbing on the Ben in the 70's, we were geared up at the foot of Hadrians Wall with just one team in front of us when a guy jumped the queue and started to solo it. After about 40ft he started to gibber and got stuck, asking for help. Totally pissed off, my partner stomped off up to the foot of Point 5 and started to climb, omitting to put in any gear. Now, we had climbed together for many years so I just followed on this roped solo. Several pitches up and just below the chimney, there was a scream from the team in front as the leader fell off and came flying down, ripping his gear as he flew, until stopped by his last piece, a small friend. He came to rest gently swinging just a couple of feet above Steve. It happened so quick that all i could think of was, that's it, Steve is going to be knocked off and I am going to die as well. Not a word passed between Steve and I and we just carried on climbing, still without any gear, past the fallen climber, to the top, where the expletives started. Suffice to say, we vowed to never do another winter climb when there was another party in front.
The worst moments are when it is out of your control!
Winter climbing on the Ben in the 70's, we were geared up at the foot of Hadrians Wall with just one team in front of us when a guy jumped the queue and started to solo it. After about 40ft he started to gibber and got stuck, asking for help. Totally pissed off, my partner stomped off up to the foot of Point 5 and started to climb, omitting to put in any gear. Now, we had climbed together for many years so I just followed on this roped solo. Several pitches up and just below the chimney, there was a scream from the team in front as the leader fell off and came flying down, ripping his gear as he flew, until stopped by his last piece, a small friend. He came to rest gently swinging just a couple of feet above Steve. It happened so quick that all i could think of was, that's it, Steve is going to be knocked off and I am going to die as well. Not a word passed between Steve and I and we just carried on climbing, still without any gear, past the fallen climber, to the top, where the expletives started. Suffice to say, we vowed to never do another winter climb when there was another party in front.
1
1
In reply to Removed UserMike Rhodes:
I was climbing Parallel Gully A in 1975 with Chris B & Grace. We decided to try the right hand finish as it looked in good nick. At the junction, Grace went up the normal route & belayed a pitch length below the top.
The penultimate pitch was good ice with a bit of pro, however there was no belay at the top, so I put in a deadman which required sitting on to keep it in place. Chris nipped up & started on the very steep snow above. It became clear that the snow was severely unconsolidated & Chris was creating a bulge above him as his crampons failed to find hold. So being a bit lighter, I tried but had the same problem. I resorted to using the shaft of my axe to start a hole then enlarging it with my arm until I could pull/push my way up. This was for about 10metres, the longest of my life. A fall would have seen Chris & me at the bottom & Grace stranded, although she was quite capable of soloing to the top. When Chris popped over onto the plateau he had this strange look in his eyes, best not elaborated on. I spoke to some Aberdeen climbers the following week & it turned out that they had exactly the same conditions on another occasion. I also found out that a well known climber had had a top rope assist out.
I was climbing Parallel Gully A in 1975 with Chris B & Grace. We decided to try the right hand finish as it looked in good nick. At the junction, Grace went up the normal route & belayed a pitch length below the top.
The penultimate pitch was good ice with a bit of pro, however there was no belay at the top, so I put in a deadman which required sitting on to keep it in place. Chris nipped up & started on the very steep snow above. It became clear that the snow was severely unconsolidated & Chris was creating a bulge above him as his crampons failed to find hold. So being a bit lighter, I tried but had the same problem. I resorted to using the shaft of my axe to start a hole then enlarging it with my arm until I could pull/push my way up. This was for about 10metres, the longest of my life. A fall would have seen Chris & me at the bottom & Grace stranded, although she was quite capable of soloing to the top. When Chris popped over onto the plateau he had this strange look in his eyes, best not elaborated on. I spoke to some Aberdeen climbers the following week & it turned out that they had exactly the same conditions on another occasion. I also found out that a well known climber had had a top rope assist out.
In reply to Goucho:
I think anyone who has spent significant amounts of time in the mountains, at whatever standard, has had a few "moments".
Two stand out for me:
Climbing some rock route in Glen Nevis in the '90's and one of the belays was a horizontal tree. Led up the pitch and put a sling round the tree, clipped in and leant back.....but had not clipped the sling properly...flew backwards, only to catch with my left hand an extended branch of the said tree.
Also, back in the '80's, doing the Migot Spur on the N Face of the Aiguille Du Chardonnet. After a successful ascent, the bergschrund on the way down was huge and overhanging and in the gathering storm it was cold so I had my old ME Annapurna duvet on. Abbing off an ice bollard I abbed over the edge of the schrund and was in free space when somehow my duvet hood got caught in the fig 8. It happened so quick I was now literally hanging to death by the hood....just as I began to pass out the poppers that old duvet had on the hood suddenly popped open and I was reprieved....
Both time I thought that was "it".
ANdy
I think anyone who has spent significant amounts of time in the mountains, at whatever standard, has had a few "moments".
Two stand out for me:
Climbing some rock route in Glen Nevis in the '90's and one of the belays was a horizontal tree. Led up the pitch and put a sling round the tree, clipped in and leant back.....but had not clipped the sling properly...flew backwards, only to catch with my left hand an extended branch of the said tree.
Also, back in the '80's, doing the Migot Spur on the N Face of the Aiguille Du Chardonnet. After a successful ascent, the bergschrund on the way down was huge and overhanging and in the gathering storm it was cold so I had my old ME Annapurna duvet on. Abbing off an ice bollard I abbed over the edge of the schrund and was in free space when somehow my duvet hood got caught in the fig 8. It happened so quick I was now literally hanging to death by the hood....just as I began to pass out the poppers that old duvet had on the hood suddenly popped open and I was reprieved....
Both time I thought that was "it".
ANdy
In reply to Goucho:
Been struck by lightning once. But an incident stays in my mind from early days. Found myself descending the top part of the Great Gully route on CraigyrYsfa on my own in winter conditions, first time ever with an axe. As I edged along a boot width sloping ledge my upper hand slipped on an icy patch on the wall above, I pitched forward into space ........ but the axe spike skittered forwards and just caught in a tiny wrinkle on the edge of the ledge stopping me going head first into space. Or did I perhaps actually fall in another life, in another universe?
Been struck by lightning once. But an incident stays in my mind from early days. Found myself descending the top part of the Great Gully route on CraigyrYsfa on my own in winter conditions, first time ever with an axe. As I edged along a boot width sloping ledge my upper hand slipped on an icy patch on the wall above, I pitched forward into space ........ but the axe spike skittered forwards and just caught in a tiny wrinkle on the edge of the ledge stopping me going head first into space. Or did I perhaps actually fall in another life, in another universe?
In reply to Goucho:
Fairly mild compared to your experience but two incidents still appear from time to time in my dreams
First was on the Douves Blanche (Arolla), can't remember if we were moving roped together or unroped on one of the easy sections when I stepped onto a block which then started to move with me standing on it, somehow I stepped off it & back onto something solid & watched the block fall to the scree several hundred metres below.
Second was somewhere near the summit of Ben Alder in winter & in very poor visibility, my partner (a few metres in front) shouted something so I skied towards him only to find myself falling as a cornice collapsed under my weight. I fell maybe 50 metres coming to rest on a steepish slope of soft snow but uninjured. I took my skis off, & climbed upwards to close to what remained of the cornice only to find the snow was now hard névé & getting steep, so crampons on & I got close to the top when a hand appeared & helped me up the last very steep metre.
Seems Jon had been shouting at me to be careful of the cornice. No idea how long it had taken me to get back up but we then skied very carefully back down to the bothy with me still in a state of shock.
Fairly mild compared to your experience but two incidents still appear from time to time in my dreams
First was on the Douves Blanche (Arolla), can't remember if we were moving roped together or unroped on one of the easy sections when I stepped onto a block which then started to move with me standing on it, somehow I stepped off it & back onto something solid & watched the block fall to the scree several hundred metres below.
Second was somewhere near the summit of Ben Alder in winter & in very poor visibility, my partner (a few metres in front) shouted something so I skied towards him only to find myself falling as a cornice collapsed under my weight. I fell maybe 50 metres coming to rest on a steepish slope of soft snow but uninjured. I took my skis off, & climbed upwards to close to what remained of the cornice only to find the snow was now hard névé & getting steep, so crampons on & I got close to the top when a hand appeared & helped me up the last very steep metre.
Seems Jon had been shouting at me to be careful of the cornice. No idea how long it had taken me to get back up but we then skied very carefully back down to the bothy with me still in a state of shock.
Post edited at 18:23
In reply to Goucho:
Mine is nothing in comparison to your stories and it was over so fast it was more of a 'shit that was almost it'
Abbing off the Royal Arches in Yosemite whilst exhausted after a long, hot days climbing (eleven ab pitches if I remember rightly?) my mate and I got about halfway down and clipped into one of the bolted belays, him first and then me.
For some absolutely moronic reason I had been using one of those giant purple dyneema slings folded over God knows how many times to clip in to the belays. I get down to my mate waiting at the bolts, clip in, free myself from the ab rope and lean back.
All I hear is 'f****************ck!!!!!' And see my partner grab me hard by my harness. Turns out id managed to unclip from half of the dyneema and was about to lean back to a long drop.
Mine is nothing in comparison to your stories and it was over so fast it was more of a 'shit that was almost it'
Abbing off the Royal Arches in Yosemite whilst exhausted after a long, hot days climbing (eleven ab pitches if I remember rightly?) my mate and I got about halfway down and clipped into one of the bolted belays, him first and then me.
For some absolutely moronic reason I had been using one of those giant purple dyneema slings folded over God knows how many times to clip in to the belays. I get down to my mate waiting at the bolts, clip in, free myself from the ab rope and lean back.
All I hear is 'f****************ck!!!!!' And see my partner grab me hard by my harness. Turns out id managed to unclip from half of the dyneema and was about to lean back to a long drop.
In reply to Goucho:
I think I've had just two occasions.
The first was at Avon. I was trying to do a route, (ironically named Comedy of Errors) without the normal side runners in the adjacent route. I got some way up, having no gear at all, and suddenly realised I'd completely cocked up the sequence and was convinced I was going to take a nasty ground fall. I started cursing loudly, perhaps to alert my belayer I was about to fall. But somewhere inside of me a voice convinced me to try to stay cool and keep climbing. I managed to sort myself out and make it to the first gear and complete the route: the first ascent without the side runners.
The other occasion was in Huntsman's Leap in Pembroke. I was about a third the way and reached a large body sized flake. My last gear seemed like it might be too low so I put a bomber nut in the bottom of the flake and started laybacking up it. Suddenly the whole flake detached itself and with it my 'bomber' nut. I thought I was going to hit the ground and the huge chunk of falling rock would land on my belayer killing him instantly. Fortunately he'd moved from directly below me further in to avoid the incoming sea. And fortunately for me my previous high runners were just high enough to stop me decking. The fall was over in a flash and I'd injured by leg somehow. I wasn't sure how we'd get out but my friend, who was less experienced, managed to lead an easier route out of the zawn which I was able to follow.
I think I've had just two occasions.
The first was at Avon. I was trying to do a route, (ironically named Comedy of Errors) without the normal side runners in the adjacent route. I got some way up, having no gear at all, and suddenly realised I'd completely cocked up the sequence and was convinced I was going to take a nasty ground fall. I started cursing loudly, perhaps to alert my belayer I was about to fall. But somewhere inside of me a voice convinced me to try to stay cool and keep climbing. I managed to sort myself out and make it to the first gear and complete the route: the first ascent without the side runners.
The other occasion was in Huntsman's Leap in Pembroke. I was about a third the way and reached a large body sized flake. My last gear seemed like it might be too low so I put a bomber nut in the bottom of the flake and started laybacking up it. Suddenly the whole flake detached itself and with it my 'bomber' nut. I thought I was going to hit the ground and the huge chunk of falling rock would land on my belayer killing him instantly. Fortunately he'd moved from directly below me further in to avoid the incoming sea. And fortunately for me my previous high runners were just high enough to stop me decking. The fall was over in a flash and I'd injured by leg somehow. I wasn't sure how we'd get out but my friend, who was less experienced, managed to lead an easier route out of the zawn which I was able to follow.
1
In reply to Goucho:
Avalanches, ropes jammed when abseiling over sharp rocks, hearing my leader shout coming off 100ft above me with no runners, watching my crampons skate on ice veneer, 100ft run out on routes three grades harder than I've ever led, watching your second fall off just after you've said "what ever you do - don't fall off"
Avalanches, ropes jammed when abseiling over sharp rocks, hearing my leader shout coming off 100ft above me with no runners, watching my crampons skate on ice veneer, 100ft run out on routes three grades harder than I've ever led, watching your second fall off just after you've said "what ever you do - don't fall off"
In reply to Goucho:
Four times for me.
Two when a leader has fallen off above me on ice. Poor main belays and both times the old style drive in Warthog runner held.
At the Third Bonatti Bivi on the Grand Cap, hanging in slings all night in what felt like a major thunderstorm, strikes above below and to the side, thinking the next one could be the last.
The ones above were frightening because I was not in control.
But, soloing on Shelf route on the Buckle, I was pacing (stupidly ) along a powder covered ledge when I caught a rock with my crampon. Turning out, I looked down an un-survivable drop, just ( just) managing to bend my body to catch my balance. Time definitely slowed on that one.
Four times for me.
Two when a leader has fallen off above me on ice. Poor main belays and both times the old style drive in Warthog runner held.
At the Third Bonatti Bivi on the Grand Cap, hanging in slings all night in what felt like a major thunderstorm, strikes above below and to the side, thinking the next one could be the last.
The ones above were frightening because I was not in control.
But, soloing on Shelf route on the Buckle, I was pacing (stupidly ) along a powder covered ledge when I caught a rock with my crampon. Turning out, I looked down an un-survivable drop, just ( just) managing to bend my body to catch my balance. Time definitely slowed on that one.
1
In reply to Goucho:
I remember taking a 30ft whipper off Aardvark and the Ferret at Avon Gorge and on the way down being... very... aware that I only had one nut at half height. That's my closest.
I remember taking a 30ft whipper off Aardvark and the Ferret at Avon Gorge and on the way down being... very... aware that I only had one nut at half height. That's my closest.
2
1
In reply to A Longleat Boulderer:
Absolutely no offence intended but I'm glad Ally placed it for you - else your royal progress from 6c to 8a might have ground to a premature halt!
Mick
Absolutely no offence intended but I'm glad Ally placed it for you - else your royal progress from 6c to 8a might have ground to a premature halt!
Mick
1
In reply to Goucho:
We had a bit of an epie on the Grutter too. We inadvertently went through the rockfall area and my mate had to climb round a block about the size of a large fridge, attached by absolutely nothing that we could see, about 20' inescapably above my head. I remember watching him wide bridging round it, trying to avoid any physical contact, or even brushing the rope against it, and quite calmly thinking our time had come and hoping it wouldn't hurt too much. George threw up when he got to the top of the pitch.
Another time: climbed the Gervasuttti couloir with Rob Bruce, at the top he chose to tackle the seracs direct. After 2 - 3 falls onto ice screws, 3000' above the deck, he/we decided to call it a day - by which time the 55 degree exit slopes were totally soft unconsolidated cr*p. Took me an hour to traverse the 100' to the edge; that's awfully steep and awfully long when you just can't get either your boots or axes into anything solid, and can feel yourself falling backwards all the time.
We had a bit of an epie on the Grutter too. We inadvertently went through the rockfall area and my mate had to climb round a block about the size of a large fridge, attached by absolutely nothing that we could see, about 20' inescapably above my head. I remember watching him wide bridging round it, trying to avoid any physical contact, or even brushing the rope against it, and quite calmly thinking our time had come and hoping it wouldn't hurt too much. George threw up when he got to the top of the pitch.
Another time: climbed the Gervasuttti couloir with Rob Bruce, at the top he chose to tackle the seracs direct. After 2 - 3 falls onto ice screws, 3000' above the deck, he/we decided to call it a day - by which time the 55 degree exit slopes were totally soft unconsolidated cr*p. Took me an hour to traverse the 100' to the edge; that's awfully steep and awfully long when you just can't get either your boots or axes into anything solid, and can feel yourself falling backwards all the time.
In reply to abseil:
Like some others here I don't remember it being a oh-no-I'm-going-to-die-moment except in retrospect..
Was soloing up a steep severe somewhere in the north of england and grabbed and pulled up on a flake that was about 4' high. The flake smoothly pivoted out from the rock 90 degrees with me hanging on for dear life and legs in thin air about 60 foot up. Had a moment of "OH SH.." before the bit of my brain still functioning cut in with a command to "get hold of something that isn't moving, you idiot!" - which I did. (I still remember that calm voice in my head... wierd).
Like some others here I don't remember it being a oh-no-I'm-going-to-die-moment except in retrospect..
Was soloing up a steep severe somewhere in the north of england and grabbed and pulled up on a flake that was about 4' high. The flake smoothly pivoted out from the rock 90 degrees with me hanging on for dear life and legs in thin air about 60 foot up. Had a moment of "OH SH.." before the bit of my brain still functioning cut in with a command to "get hold of something that isn't moving, you idiot!" - which I did. (I still remember that calm voice in my head... wierd).
In reply to Goucho:
-in the thick of a thunderstorm coming off Aig. Moine, lighting above and below.
-desperate loose rock on ridge leading to Tete de la gandoliere (between La Berade and La Meije), think skye ridge, but with fridge size blocks moving when touched.
-horrible deep soft snow / cornice and zero gear at the top of icicle gully/force 10 butt at aonoch m, where progress was two steps up, then drifting 3 back down.
-Being about 5m up into combe gully and hearing/ then seeing a fair part of 2 gully cornice / upper slope come sliding down behind us. Turned round and headed down, rapidly, didn't stop until we were in nevis sport café.
None of them ever that far from save ground, but I thought all could in a hospital trip or worse.
-in the thick of a thunderstorm coming off Aig. Moine, lighting above and below.
-desperate loose rock on ridge leading to Tete de la gandoliere (between La Berade and La Meije), think skye ridge, but with fridge size blocks moving when touched.
-horrible deep soft snow / cornice and zero gear at the top of icicle gully/force 10 butt at aonoch m, where progress was two steps up, then drifting 3 back down.
-Being about 5m up into combe gully and hearing/ then seeing a fair part of 2 gully cornice / upper slope come sliding down behind us. Turned round and headed down, rapidly, didn't stop until we were in nevis sport café.
None of them ever that far from save ground, but I thought all could in a hospital trip or worse.
In reply to Mick Ward:
None taken Mick! I too am glad. Decided to stick with sport climbing after that!
I hope all's well.
> Absolutely no offence intended but I'm glad Ally placed it for you - else your royal progress from 6c to 8a might have ground to a premature halt!
None taken Mick! I too am glad. Decided to stick with sport climbing after that!
I hope all's well.
Post edited at 08:53
1
In reply to Goucho:
Two jump out:
Watching an avalanche appear from above and wipe out the path we had crossed 30 seconds earlier was the 'not in control'
Soloing, alone at a remote Lancs crag having told no-one where I was, I set off up an HVS, well within my grade. On a 10 cm ledge the route looked thin but assuming this was a classic HVS crux I took a poor side pull with the left, stood on good smears and deadpointed for the obvious break. I was almost non-existent and simultaneous to failing to hold it my left popped and I peeled off backwards. In a genuine everything-slows-down moment I decided to let my feet slip on the basis that I might be able to grab something on the way past rather than fall on my back. As it happens, somehow my feet caught the ledge with the body in perfect balance and I stopped. A number of valuable lessons learned.
Two jump out:
Watching an avalanche appear from above and wipe out the path we had crossed 30 seconds earlier was the 'not in control'
Soloing, alone at a remote Lancs crag having told no-one where I was, I set off up an HVS, well within my grade. On a 10 cm ledge the route looked thin but assuming this was a classic HVS crux I took a poor side pull with the left, stood on good smears and deadpointed for the obvious break. I was almost non-existent and simultaneous to failing to hold it my left popped and I peeled off backwards. In a genuine everything-slows-down moment I decided to let my feet slip on the basis that I might be able to grab something on the way past rather than fall on my back. As it happens, somehow my feet caught the ledge with the body in perfect balance and I stopped. A number of valuable lessons learned.
In reply to Goucho:
One that stands out, the result of being far too casual. Essentially moving together on Tower Ridge, we decided to pitch Tower Gap, I made a bit of an ice axe belay and off he went. Anyway he slipped descending in to the gap and took a dive head first down Glover's Chimney. This was too much for the belay and I was thrown forward, then started what felt like a slide to oblivion toward Observatory Gully and off the ridge above a 1,000' of nothing. Our weight sort of balanced out and I crashed into the side wall of the ridge and managed to get myself on a small ledge 30' below the ridge. After about a hour we both managed to get ourselves back on the ridge, both thinking the other was dead and both having to untie and solo, in my case without any ice tools, as they were still on the ridge.
This delay and the fact we were pretty shaken which slowed us down, meant we topped out at night in horrendous storm (120mph gusts recorded), spent a cold night in the shelter and returned to our camp near the CIC to find the tent (or not) blown away.
One that stands out, the result of being far too casual. Essentially moving together on Tower Ridge, we decided to pitch Tower Gap, I made a bit of an ice axe belay and off he went. Anyway he slipped descending in to the gap and took a dive head first down Glover's Chimney. This was too much for the belay and I was thrown forward, then started what felt like a slide to oblivion toward Observatory Gully and off the ridge above a 1,000' of nothing. Our weight sort of balanced out and I crashed into the side wall of the ridge and managed to get myself on a small ledge 30' below the ridge. After about a hour we both managed to get ourselves back on the ridge, both thinking the other was dead and both having to untie and solo, in my case without any ice tools, as they were still on the ridge.
This delay and the fact we were pretty shaken which slowed us down, meant we topped out at night in horrendous storm (120mph gusts recorded), spent a cold night in the shelter and returned to our camp near the CIC to find the tent (or not) blown away.
Post edited at 09:43
3
In reply to John_Hat:
That's such a parallel event to mine... I felt the same as you - 1. sheer terror then 2. utterly calm and a voice "move-move-MOVE", which I did, fast, up and left.
Why didn't the pinnacle I was hanging on pull off? I'll never know but if it had, I would've been well crunched on the deck below.
> ....Was soloing up a steep severe somewhere in the north of england and grabbed and pulled up on a flake that was about 4' high. The flake smoothly pivoted out from the rock 90 degrees with me hanging on for dear life....
That's such a parallel event to mine... I felt the same as you - 1. sheer terror then 2. utterly calm and a voice "move-move-MOVE", which I did, fast, up and left.
Why didn't the pinnacle I was hanging on pull off? I'll never know but if it had, I would've been well crunched on the deck below.
Post edited at 09:54
In reply to John_Hat:
This. Took a big trad lead fall at the Dewerstone, and had no memorable thoughts until i was 6 foot off the ground, upside down.
> Like some others here I don't remember it being a oh-no-I'm-going-to-die-moment except in retrospect..
This. Took a big trad lead fall at the Dewerstone, and had no memorable thoughts until i was 6 foot off the ground, upside down.
In reply to Goucho:
Just once, when a slide in winter got complicated when my ice axe was ripped from my grasp by a rock.
At that point I was just reacting and digging my hands and crampons in as I'd practiced many times.
The 'this is it' point was reached when I hit my head on a rock, broke my face, and was flipped over and up by the impact - I thought I'd gone off the cliff edge!
Fortunately for me after only a few seconds I landed in a gully and manged to come to a halt.
Not the best day on the hill I've ever had...
Just once, when a slide in winter got complicated when my ice axe was ripped from my grasp by a rock.
At that point I was just reacting and digging my hands and crampons in as I'd practiced many times.
The 'this is it' point was reached when I hit my head on a rock, broke my face, and was flipped over and up by the impact - I thought I'd gone off the cliff edge!
Fortunately for me after only a few seconds I landed in a gully and manged to come to a halt.
Not the best day on the hill I've ever had...
In reply to More-On:
Descending solo in 1967 an icy Shoulder on the Matterhorn with my crampons stowed in my sack I slipped and plummeted on my back dropping my axe in the process.
I accelerated to the first of the roped parties and the leader tackled me as I swept past. We went down together until he let go as we struck scree on the lip of the North Face. Fortunately it was enough to stop me inches from the abyss.
The German leader rightly remonstrated with me and I helped them down. I certainly spoilt their day. It was a courageous act of his to have leapt from security in a split second to save me.
I wasn't phased at the time and I learnt the lesson to don crampons when necessary. Youthful exuberance can tip you over the line.
Descending solo in 1967 an icy Shoulder on the Matterhorn with my crampons stowed in my sack I slipped and plummeted on my back dropping my axe in the process.
I accelerated to the first of the roped parties and the leader tackled me as I swept past. We went down together until he let go as we struck scree on the lip of the North Face. Fortunately it was enough to stop me inches from the abyss.
The German leader rightly remonstrated with me and I helped them down. I certainly spoilt their day. It was a courageous act of his to have leapt from security in a split second to save me.
I wasn't phased at the time and I learnt the lesson to don crampons when necessary. Youthful exuberance can tip you over the line.
In reply to Goucho:
Some arse-clenching stories here. Great stuff!
Not climbing but the closest I've come to the End was probably skiing in the Hardangervida in Norway. There are some monstrous cornices in that area formed by the strong prevailing winds. We'd been touring for a week and I was starting to get a bit too confident.
Well, heading down a lovely couloir off the icecap I sensed that the slope ahead looked a bit funny... sure enough I realised at the last second that I was about 3m from a spectacular ski jump but with a fairly terminal landing, and was currently separated from 100m of thin air beneath me by about 3m of snow. I made like Wile E Coyote... makes me cold inside every time I think about.
Some arse-clenching stories here. Great stuff!
Not climbing but the closest I've come to the End was probably skiing in the Hardangervida in Norway. There are some monstrous cornices in that area formed by the strong prevailing winds. We'd been touring for a week and I was starting to get a bit too confident.
Well, heading down a lovely couloir off the icecap I sensed that the slope ahead looked a bit funny... sure enough I realised at the last second that I was about 3m from a spectacular ski jump but with a fairly terminal landing, and was currently separated from 100m of thin air beneath me by about 3m of snow. I made like Wile E Coyote... makes me cold inside every time I think about.
In reply to John_Hat:
I had a calm voice narrating what was happening when I fell off my road bike and head butted a drystone wall, 'Here I am falling off, here's my head hitting the wall'. It's the only time I've had it.
> Like some others here I don't remember it being a oh-no-I'm-going-to-die-moment except in retrospect..
> " before the bit of my brain still functioning cut in with a command to "get hold of something that isn't moving, you idiot!" - which I did. (I still remember that calm voice in my head... wierd).
I had a calm voice narrating what was happening when I fell off my road bike and head butted a drystone wall, 'Here I am falling off, here's my head hitting the wall'. It's the only time I've had it.
In reply to Goucho:
They were times during this that I did want to die, as it would have been easier:
http://www.coldmountainkit.com/knowledge/articles/353-naked-helicopter-resc...
They were times during this that I did want to die, as it would have been easier:
http://www.coldmountainkit.com/knowledge/articles/353-naked-helicopter-resc...
2
In reply to Goucho
I was solo descending Curved Ridge (BEM) with my dog a Border Collie. We had quite a nice system going in which I'd down climb around 5m then call her and she would calmly pad down to me then wait and I'd do the same again. All was going well until I decided to speed things up and descended around 10m instead of the 5m she had got used and she panicked. With no warning she began leaping downwards and crashed right in to my chest overbalancing me backwards. I ended up stood, back arched backwards with my arms wind-milling trying to get forwards thinking noooo! When I got my hands back on the rock I remember her licking my face in excitement and me hugging her, thankful to be still on rock and repeating "You silly, silly girl"
Post edited at 16:21
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