Yesterday was quite the exciting day. After weeks of inclement weather in Lander, Amy and I were lured up to the dolomite walls of Sinks Canyon. We arrived early in hopes of avoiding the masses and slowly broke trail through the snow until it tapered off and left us with beautiful weather and dry ground on which to belay. And, our motivation paid off as we found ourselves climbing alone for nearly the entire day. No crowds, no excessive screaming or swearing, and not one self-proclaimed "bolt deity" spraying beta on a route he's climbed "at least 60 times."
All-in-all, the day was spectacular. Amy broke a three-year hiatus and climbed exceptionally well. I finally put myself to work on Face Dancer, by far one of the most beautiful lines in the Canyon. And, it was just a damn nice day to be outside.
Towards the end of the day, we wrapped up a climb, and started back towards the car. We had our sights set on climbing one more route but didn't have any attachment to anything in particular. During our hike, we decided we'd walk to the end of the wall and see if anyone was on one of two routes. If they were taken, we'd call it a day.
The wall was packed and after saying hello to some folks we know, we continued along to see if one of our proposed routes was open. Just as we were about to pass behind a couple ahead of us, someone behind us yelled "ROCK!". I heard the warning but thought it was just a small rock one of the climbers we'd passed had accidentally kicked off and was warning their belayer of. Not the case...
The next thing I knew, a rock the size of three Nalgene bottles hit my head, just above my right eye, before slamming into my right forearm. It felt like someone had hit me over the head with a 2x4. A little dazed, I checked my head only to find a small abrasion where the rock had deflected before hitting my arm. I looked up to see who had kicked off such a large rock, only to find it had fallen naturally, due to the recent snow melt. And, where I was standing, it easily free fell from over 100 feet before hitting my head. In a quick survey of my arm, I had a deep gash, probably an inch and a half long and a quarter inch deep. The only thing that slowed the rock down before it hit my arm was the glance off of my head. The pain in my arm was far more severe than that of my head. It immediately started to throb but luckily, after testing my fingers and wrist, didn't appear to be broken.
I moved out of the area where I'd been hit and a group of climbers, who were also fortunately taking their Wilderness EMT, were more than happy to lend a hand. After a quick gauze and tape dressing, we made our way down to the car. On the way down, my head was a mess of thoughts. I was shaken up, the pain in my arm was incredible intense, and I was still trying to take stock of what had just happened.
"If I need stitches, I wonder if Sarah could do them for me, she's a WEMT?"
"You're one lucky son of bitch."
"That really just happened."
"Why the hell weren't you wearing your helmet?"
"You could be dead right now."
"How far did that thing fall from?"
"I'm so glad it hit me instead of Amy."
She was leading our way over to the last climb and the rock had fallen only a couple of feet behind her. Also, helmet-less, who knows what would have happened. My mind returned to the scene right after I'd gotten hit. There were at least ten people who were there, twelve if you count us. How many were wearing helmets? Two.
You might be asking yourself, "where was your helmet?" It was in my backpack. I wear it every time I belay and every time I climb, but I usually take it off while I'm cruising from climb to climb. No more. That piece of plastic will stay on my head from start to finish. Who knows, a helmet might have done nothing. Or, it could have deflected the rock completely and my arm would be fine. Needless to say, I had a pretty large slice of humble pie yesterday. Wear your helmet, I was lucky, it could save your life.
My right forearm, swollen and tender but on the mend thanks to superior dressing.
My hat and forehead. Another inch back and who knows what shape I'd be in right now.
Riley says: "A grateful mind is both a great and happy mind."
