How I nearly died: Volume one..

               So I have had a few adventures in my life. Most of them were made by odd choices, some of them were entirely spontaneous. Because of these adventures there are an alarming number of times I probably should have died or at least spent a few days in the hospital. I have been thrown, kicked, punched. Hit with staffs, bos, kali sticks. Swung at with swords, daggers and axes. I have been hit by cars, walls, motorcycles, crowds, and various blunt objects including the ground. Thrown from bikes, skateboards, trampolines, trees, snowboards, roller blades, skis, and the odd puppet.  And these were all products of my hobbies not any sort of ridiculous ninja training. I have broken ribs, my nose, fingers, toes, my leg, my ankle and have a baker’s dozen for concussions. This last week I found myself contemplating the faint scars across my knuckles from nearly falling off Devils Tower. So I decided to write about that. 

        I spent several years rock climbing. Many of them were at Taylors falls or the bluffs in the black hills. Towards the end of my out door climbing Me, Deane and Alex had packed up as regular climbing partners. We made short road trips to climb, tried new techniques and even did stupid shit like this.

One of many ice climbing and winter climbing adventures. (note the sexy cankles from three layers of socks)

               Me and two friends took off at four in the morning crammed inside a small car filled with gear and headed out for Devils tower. For those of you who don’t know devils tower think of close encounters and mashed potatoes.   

               We drove out all crammed into a version of the traveling fetal position. Limbs shoved in and around gear bags and sleeping bags. The three of us (Deane, Alex and I) had climbed together at Taylor's falls quite a bit and had planned this trip to train up for the Tetons later in the year. We were all excited. The weather was awesome, it was May and each of us were ready for fresh air and adventure.  We planned the ascent, played air guitar and stopped briefly to wander around the giant wind turbines in Iowa. Nonstop we made it there by night and set up out tent. In the dying rays of the sun we all grew quiet. Contemplating the giant hulking shadow and our task tomorrow. A quiet meal and gear check for the next morning and we all rolled into sleeping bags eventually drifting off to sleep to the drunken giggles and calls from the next site over. 

Good morning giant thing I am going to climb..

               The next morning we got up and quickly gulped down a breakfast of energy bars and coffee all silently regarding the mountain. The muffled groans and moans from the campsite over bringing quirks and smirks to our lips. A final gear check and we all climbed back into the car to drive up to the ranger station and register. We had gotten there a little earlier than they opened so we hunkered down outside the building and waited. Sipping water and fiddling with our gear. It was Mother’s day and our plan was to call our moms from the top of Devils tower. (yeah, we were dorks.) 

The view from the rangers station

          Soon the ranger came in looking tired and haggard. He apologized for running late and disappeared into the office behind the counter for a few minutes. We wandered around the room looking at old photos and gear hung up on the walls in display. A prominent sign reminding people to not to forget to tie a knot in the end of their ropes while rappelling. We all chuckled at the sign thinking it fell in to the worried mother element of the state parks.

        

          The ranger came out and saw us regarding the sign. He looked suddenly a lot older and said this issue came true last evening. We all stopped smirking and asked for the story. The ranger went on to explain that an experienced climber from Australia had come out to climb the tower. He summited and started his rappel off the other side. He had taken longer than he expected on the ascent and was rushing the sunset. In his rush he forgot his knot at the end and rappelled right off the end of the line falling several hundred feet to his death below. Our ranger explained that’s why he was late getting in. He had worked the body recovery and was up late with paperwork and calling the gentleman’s family. Suitably warned we all made mental notes to triple fucking check everything on this climb. 

               Paperwork finished we shouldered our gear and hiked out. It’s a beautiful hike. Especially on a cool May morning. We hiked up until the ground became too vertical. Pausing we took a break, dropped some layers and set up for the first pitch.

               Deane lead climbed the first pitch being the most experienced of us three. I followed then Alex. A small pause for pictures and off to pitch two. The day was beautiful and the birds would swoop by us tipping a wing and skimming off to the clouds. The wind was clear and sweet and the sun still new in the sky warming our backs as we climbed. Alex rotated in again for pitch three wanting to try the ascenders we would need to shift gear for the Teton’s climb. There would be one more pitch after this one and the way the rock overhung with only a crack to work with it seemed like an idea time to get some practice time in. We had worked with them in Taylors falls but wanted to train up on longer pitches. 

The little circle above the tree is Deane.. We like our pitches LONG

The circles are giant motherfucking Eagles.

     

    

                                                                                                                                                                              

            Alex lead climbed and then Deane set the ascenders. It was my turn so I clipped in and started to climb. The first twenty feet was hand holds then they petered out and it was time for the ascenders. Putting them into play I started to climb. The first part was fine until I looked at the ascenders biting through the rope. Deane in his rush and fatigue had set them wrong. The iron teeth would clamp down when I placed weight on them and bite through the sheath on the line and a good third of the rope then start to shred it. Swinging out a good three feet from the wall I couldn’t easily grab a hand hold to take my weight off the line. Jamming a foot in the crack I reached above the ascenders and pulled up hoping to keep the line from snapping and me from falling. I called up to Alex that the line was going and was met with a string of expletives and his ghost white face leaning out from his belayers nest taking in my slack. 

         Deane couldn’t hear me as the wind would tear away my words flinging them out with the birds skimming by. My arms were shaking and starting to give out. I couldn’t stay there. I peered at the chewed up rope and up to Alex and down to Deane.   Closer to Alex I decided the best option would be to speed climb and hope that I could stay ahead of the rope tearing. It seemed that the longer the ascender was engaged the deeper the tear so I took one last glance out then gathered my strength and hauled ass up the last part of the pitch. 

        There is a kind of panicked jerking crying that happens when you are getting close to falling to your death. It’s a weird evolutionary event. You are crying because you are fucking terrified but at the same time the tears hold back so you can see and your breathing is deep and long to fuel your muscles. In the fight or fight responses I can honestly say that I have experienced fight and it fucking sucks. I swore, and clawed and heaved up the last part of the pitch coming close to Alex’s white terrified gaze tracking my progress. Deane unable to hear the words had figured out something was wrong and had fallen into a tense silence. 

Alex in his nest.. and the lovely view of how fall the fall would have been

        Finally at the top Alex hauled in the last bit of slack and clipped me into an anchor line dragging me up next to him shaking as hard as I was. I shifted over to another anchor on a small outcropping and clung to the stone mountain and thanked whatever the hell got me up there alive and promised to stop being a dumbass. I felt Alex take an extra webbing and anchor and hook me in a double system. Apparently he was as scared as I was. Alex then ran the rope through to the last ascender mark and found the line mostly severed. He and I just sat and stared at the broken line for a long while. A walkie talkie chirping to life in Alex’s pack made us both jump. Deane was checking in. Alex told him that the rope was shredded and staring at my shredded hands and knees bleeding freely told Deane we were both done. I hadn’t come to that conclusion yet but didn’t disagree with Alex. I had had enough of near death and without that line the rappel down would be very complicated.  Alex turned me and took the rope bag I had packed up in my climb. We took the damaged line from the system and set up a rappel from where we were. 

        The rope slithered down and Deane down climbed a little to the out cropping it had caught on. I set up for the rappel and snapped a few pictures my hands shaking so much I was sure the pictures would be blurry, my was camera smeared with blood. My boots came in touch with our starting point for pitch three as Deane turned from looking at the damaged line. He looked from my torn up hands and the shredded bloody knees of my pants and back to the line then sat down hard. I disconnected from the line and set up for Alex to start his trip down. 

I will stop being a dumbass.. I will stop being a dumbass..

        Once Alex arrived safely we had a meeting of sorts. First aid for me, planning for the next steps. We discussed continuing on one rope down. Ascending would be possible but the rappel down the other side would require the damaged rope and that was suicide. The general consensus was let’s go home alive. We rappelled back down our pitches and packed it up. We had come within 100 feet of the top, nearly died on mother’s day but were leaving in better condition than the Australian gentleman the night before. 

The last rapell down

               Since that climb I have mostly kept my promise to stop being a dumbass. Mostly. I still climb but I stick mainly to indoor climbs. Someday I would like to revisit natural rock and retrain the fear but for now I am content climbing walls and teaching my kid how to have fun and be safe.

        I imagine when I am an old woman in the nursing home with too much time on my hands looking over all my scars and remembering the adventures I had. Forget porcelain beauty. Give me freckles, scars, and smile wrinkles. Give me a body that speaks of strength, adventure and eventually learning to not be a dumbass.