wesdyer

Awesome! That is great that your Dad and you can share such good times together. I look forward to similar times with my son in the future. Thanks for sharing.

Thanks for the replies. It sounds like if you are with newer climbers then you definitely need to be protecting at times/places where other climbers might sneer at it (thinking of some trip reports about the Tooth or involving certain groups for example). I realize that more generally my question is about protecting climbers in places where the likelihood of an accident is fairly low but the consequences are high. That is a fantastic idea. If you couple that with being attentive to how they are feeling/acting and making sure they can express when they feel uncomfortable I think it could avoid many potential problems. I can definitely see where newer climbers get in trouble in the Tetons. Perhaps you are thinking in part about accidents on the approach to the upper saddle. So you would full on belay a section of snow like the one below with a newer climber? It's the kind of snow you might find on a hike in late summer: not too steep, but steep enough to hurt with a run out onto talus. "Steeper" snow about 100' across with a 100' runout onto talus in a creek bed There a number of options available. 1. Walk across 2. Pull out ice axes 3. Pull out ice axes and crampons 4. Pull out ices axes, crampons, and rope up 5. Pull out ice axes, crampons, rope up, and place protection 6. Pull out ice axes, crampons, rope up, place protection, and belay 7. Go around it 8. Turn back 9. ... I know it depends on the situation. But I'm just wondering how everyone would think about it...

Over the years, I've found myself often taking newer climbers or would be climbers on easier or introductory trips. Of course, I absolutely love going with talented partners and doing harder climbs as fast and light as I can, but I also find it very satisfying to introduce the mountains I love to others and helping them achieve things they never thought they could. I've noticed that perhaps the most dangerous part of the outing is when we are in what I call the gray area. We typically begin a climb with an approach that starts as a hike on a more or less maintained trail. Clearly, we are hiking at this point. At some later point (often indicated in guidebooks), we have all of our gear out, roped together, and are even belaying each other. Now we are clearly climbing. But usually, the transition from hiking to climbing is not well defined. The trail gets rougher with possible 3rd and 4th class sections with looser rock thrown in for good measure. Or you start crossing short snow slopes that while not steep (30 degrees or so), they have questionable run-outs on harder summer snow. Only recently, I've realized that it is dangerous to think of a climb as divided into four sections as it is typically laid out in guidebooks, on summitpost, or on mountainproject (and sometimes on here): non technical approach, technical climb, possibly technical descent, non technical deproach. Instead, a party should be constantly evaluating the risk at each stage for themselves and decided how to best manage it for their situation: which may mean roping up where others don't or possibly not using technical equipment where others do depending on skill and circumstance. The problem with the gray area is that time is often of the essence on those parts of the trip. You need to cover a large amount of ground quickly so that you have time to do the more time consuming belayed section. I mean while it would be possible to belay from the trailhead, it would be absolutely ridiculous and take an inordinate amount of time. I've rambled a bit now, but I've seen too many close calls over the years in the gray area. I'm actually considering not taking any newer climbers again (that is one way to minimize risk to them). I'd like not to make that decision. So my question is what do you do to protect newer climbers in the group when you are not belaying them. Do you simul climb / belay / short rope with them on 3rd/4th class? Do you require that all climbers where helmet / harness (even if not roped up) on questionable terrain so that you can quickly rope up if necessary? Do you insist that all climbers take traction for their foot (as well as a standard ice axe) everywhere you go since there is snow everywhere in the Cascades throughout the year? Do you just not take them? I'm looking for thoughts and experiences. Thanks.

I put together an edit of the helmet cam footage that Jake shot. You can check it out here: [video:youtube]oK_nTwDFygc

The crevasse probably ranges from 10-15 feet across. It splits the upper curtis at one of it's most narrow points (depicted in the picture below). We didn't actually investigate far climber's right since there was a solid bridge that we could cross that should hold for at least a while longer, but we could see clearly that it did extend to the far climber's left of the glacier. One side of the crevasse is easy walking and it is probably 70 degrees at most climbing the other side (for a very short section). Here are some pictures detailing the area. The crevasse is obstructed from view here, but I put in red dots showing where it would be Looking climber's right along the crevasse Looking climber's left along the crevasse, note how it reaches to the end.Also, note the snow bridge on the inside of the crevasse. Looking at the crevasse on the way up. It empties into this bowl on climber's left. A view a little further climber's right I think you could pass it as we did for at least a few more days. After that you might need to investigate how to end run it. Hope that helps.

Trip: Grand Teton - Petzoldt Ridge + Upper Exum Date: 7/18/2013 Trip Report: This summer I had the occasion to attend 4!! family reunions over two weeks in Utah. I have always wanted to climb the Grand Teton and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to get it done, so I contacted Jake Moon who lives near Salt Lake City and asked him if he was up to going. The guy had already done the Grand Teton by three routes: Upper Exum, Complete Exum, and the Grand Traverse. He said he would be up to it if we went via the Petzoldt Ridge and I said that is fine by me. We made plans to go up for three days and climb Irene's Arete one day and then the Petzoldt Ridge the next day. Knowing that I was coming from sea level and that the Grand Teton is 13,770 feet tall, I wanted to make sure I was ready. When I arrived in Utah, I went trail running up Naomi Peak (9,975 feet in Bear Rive Mountains) three times over a few days as well as running/scrambling up East Grandaddy Mountain (11,659 feet in the Uintas - I was the only one in the summit register this year) to try to acclimatize as best as I could. East Granddaddy Mountain in the Uintas - Beautiful 3rd/4th class scrambling on the right skyline We had to move the date of our climb once due to severe weather and unfortunately a scheduling fiasco reduced our time from three days to one day. We decided we still wanted to do it and settled on a single push car to car leaving out Irene's Arete. The day before our climb, I took some sleep medication to help me sleep before driving through the night to the Grand Teton. I picked up Jake on the way. He had just gotten off work and slept a few hours on the drive. We arrived at 3 AM, got ready, and left the trailhead at 3:45 AM with our day packs. We kept a good pace, reaching Lupine Meadows in about 1 hour 30 minutes and the moraine camp not too long after that. To reach the base of the route, we followed the trail until just after we climbed the second fixed rope whereupon we started making our way towards the Petzoldt ridge (past the Exum ridge). Approaching the Grand Teton in morning light By the time we reached about 12,000 feet, I felt absolutely terrible. I had a headache, didn't feel like eating, and was breathing rapidly. It seemed pretty certain that the altitude was getting to me. Unfortunately, at this point we made a route finding error. The Petzoldt ridge route begins after climbing up a section of 4th class rock from a gully. We followed the gully to the climber's left of the Petzoldt ridge instead of climber's right. Don't do that. We didn't realize this until we got back and consulted the Teton bible. The caption at the bottom says - climb up from the toe of the ridge on red rock (easy 5th class for 150'-200') - just make sure you are on the right side of the ridge looking at the gully that becomes the Stettner couloir We climbed a few hundred feet of 4th/easy 5th alternating with 2/3 class sections. Finally, not recognizing the start to the route anywhere (not realizing we were in the wrong place), we decided to just climb up to the ridge. It took us two pitches to get there climbing probably up to 5.7 through some blocky areas, a tight chimney, and some fun cracks. As we neared the ridge crest, we recognized a prominent feature from the climbing topo: the window pitch. I led up to the window and set a belay just below it. Jake led the next pitch up and over the window. The climbing on the ridge crest was fantastic. The rock on the Grand Teton is amazing: super textured granite with great cracks. Climbing on the upper Petzoldt ridge After I led the final pitch to the top of the Petzoldt ridge, we made a short rappel to the notch between the Petzoldt ridge and the rest of the Grand Teton. Jake then led one long simul climb through a 4th class gully and then Upper Exum route. It went by fast. The climbing was aesthetic and the rock quality was superb. While we were the only party on the Petzoldt ridge that day, we could see numerous parties on the lower Exum ridge and when we finally joined the Upper Exum, we passed quite a few parties on the way up. So it seems that the Petzoldt ridge might be a good alternative to avoid some crowding for at least part of the day. Climbing the upper Exum ridge As we continued up, I felt worse and worse. When we finally topped out, I felt worse than I have ever felt in the mountains, but my malaise couldn't keep the wonder of the summit scene from astounding me. On the summit, preparing the rope for the descent A couple in some very nice alpine garb topped out from the East Ridge just before us. After a few summit shots, we down climbed 3rd class terrain to the first rappel arriving at the 2nd (and infamous) rap station just as the couple was setting up. We waited for them and then set up our rope. There is a sign there indicating that you need to rappel 40m to make it to safety, but we rappelled on a single 60m rope (only 30m). The key is to rappel far to skier's left. A long descent down the Owen Spalding route ensued which reminded me a lot of descending the Cascadian Couloir. It was unpleasant, but maybe it was just that I felt horrible and hadn't eaten for hours because of my nausea. My poor partner had to wait for me as I trudged slowly down the mountain. We filled our water at a spring on the Upper Saddle and set off on the long deproach. Along the way, we kept leap frogging that couple that we met on the summit. On the deproach, feeling miserable By the time that we had nearly returned to the Lupine Meadows, I could feel hot flashes encompassing me and I knew that I desperately needed calories. I had to eat even if I absolutely did not want to. I searched my food for something that appeared remotely palatable, eventually settling on a Kind bar. I sat down and stared at the bar perhaps hoping that I could absorb the needed calories visually. It didn't happen. I had to eat it anyway and I started to chew on the bar much like a cow would chew on cud. When I had almost finished off that abominable bar, the couple I had seen earlier arrived at my point. They stopped and the woman said, "You don't look so good." I responded that I didn't feel so good, but that I would be okay. The man asked if I had food and water and I said that I did. He proceeded to describe all of the places you could find refreshing spring water in the Lupine Meadows to fill up my bottles. She offered me a Gu which I took (hoping that it would be more appetizing than my atrocious bar). I said thanks and they carried on their way. I quickly downed the Gu, drank a bit, got up and started down again. Whether due to the much needed calories or the fact that we had now dropped below 9,000 feet, I suddenly was filled with energy again and made it the rest of way out without another stop and with a much faster pace. As we arrived back at our car, the couple was getting things ready in their camper. She said to me, "You look much better." I enthusiastically responded, "I feel much better!" We packed up, waved to them, and drove to Jackson as the sun was setting to get some food. Wendy's frosties never tasted so good. We took 17 hours car to car: definitely not a record, but reasonably fast for someone who felt like his insides wanted to be on his outsides while climbing over 7,000 feet. On the drive back, I turned to Jake and said, "I think that guy looked like Steve House." He laughed and we continued on our drive. Having been on the go for 23 hours with a 6 hour drive through the night ahead of us, I bought and drank my first 5 hour energy drink. Nothing tastes worse than that! Absolutely horrible! Worse than my altitude enhanced Kind bar. Do not drink one under any circumstance! Not only that, but while it made me hyper alert for an hour or so, I crashed after that. Probably not a good idea for someone who doesn't drink coffee or energy drinks. Somewhere near Evanston, Wyoming, while scanning the darkness for deer along a lonely highway, I started dreaming (hallucinating?) and saw Jack Skellington and a giraffe. That isn't right. I decided it was time to get some rest. I slept sitting up in my car for a few hours and when I awoke my feet were swollen to outrageous proportions. After a quick breakfast, I finished the drive to eastern Utah with my newly resized feet. Later, out of curiosity, I decided to check if I could find out if it was really Steve House. A quick search of his tweets revealed that he tweeted July 19 (the day after our climb), that yesterday he had climbed the Grand Teton via the East Ridge with his wife, Eva House. I just want to say thank you to both of them. They were both totally laid back and super cool people. Kind of embarrassing to meet someone whom you look up to when you are feeling the absolutely worst that you ever have, but in any case, I'm glad to share the mountain with them that day. (By the way, I also noticed that he is coming out with a new book on training for alpine climbing...sounds interesting). Steve House's tweet from the day Also, I talked to a friend who has done high altitude medicine about my gut wrenching experience and he informed me that if my aim was to acclimatize before the climb I should have spent more time at altitude rather than driving high and making 1:30 trail runs in the mountains. Oops. At least I had fun in the mountains in any case, but I'm glad to know what I should do next time. The route was fantastic and I look forward to going back and enjoying the superlative rock without feeling miserable. Just make sure you approach from the gully climber's right of the ridge otherwise you only get to enjoy the upper Petzoldt ridge Gear Notes: Teton rack Rock shoes 60m rope Approach Notes: Follow well maintained trails to Lupine Meadows and then to just past the fixed rope after the moraine camps where you start making your way towards the Petzoldt ridge angling climber's right. Climb 4th class terrain from a gully climber's right of the ridge.

Trip: Mount Shuksan - Fisher Chimneys / SE Rib / Sulphide Date: 8/22/2013 Trip Report: This trip report is primarily brought to you by my fantastic partner, Jake Moon, who not only is super fun to climb with but is also a very talented photographer. Alas, all I provide is a little narrative to connect the photos together. So thanks again Jake for a great trip. There are a number of trip reports about all of these parts of Shuksan, but we didn't find many later summer trip reports with pictures, so I wanted to include it for a conditions report. Shuksan has been on my list for quite a few years now. Every year, I plan to get out and do it and every year we end up going somewhere else. Still ever since I attempted the North Face a number of years ago and was rebuffed by bad rockfall conditions, I've wanted to come back to this beautiful mountain. Fortunately, my good friend and wife's cousin, Jake Moon, was willing to make the trip from Utah to come climb it with me. Two other local friends wanted to come along as well and so we planned everything and set off early on Thursday, August 22. We wanted to see a lot of the mountain and so we planned to carry over from Fisher Chimneys and go down the Sulphide not realizing how long of a drive it is between trailheads. I definitely don't recommend this unless you have way too much time on your hands. After dropping one car at the Shannon Ridge trailhead, we made our way towards Heather Meadows and the Lake Ann trailhead picking up a permit in the process. We finally departed the trailhead at noon and began the descent into the valley below. After reaching the lake we took the northern trail that heads towards Fisher Chimneys. Some descriptions seem to indicate that it is a rough trail, but I found the entire approach trail to be in thoroughly enjoyable. What more, almost the entire way from the lake to the chimneys was surrounded by ripe huckleberries. We gorged ourselves while enjoying the views of the Upper and Lower Curtis glaciers. In the valley on the way to Lake Ann View of the Fisher Chimneys route Huckleberries! Looking back towards Lake Ann The Lower Curtis Glacier's snout Unfortunately, just before we reached the chimneys, one of our party sprained his ankle on the trail. It wasn't too bad of an injury, but bad enough that he didn't feel comfortable completing the route. Another one of our party also wanted to go back and so after a discussion, we decided to part ways with the two friends heading back and Jake and I continued on. We were sad to see them go and we look forward to more adventures with them in the future. Jake and I watched them go down a bit and once we were satisfied that they would make Lake Ann easy enough, we continued on our way. From here we did a bit of easy scrambling and then followed a fainter trail to the beginning of the chimneys. Neither of us saw a spray painted arrow, but the correct gully was easy enough to identify. It looks like 3rd class climbing and is pretty broad at its base. If you are climbing the chimneys and feel that you are climbing more than 3rd class then you are probably off route. Lower in the Fisher Chimneys - easy 3rd class Higher in the Fisher Chimneys - maybe 4th class but solid and easy The chimneys were fun and didn't take very long to complete. There was one short section which is probably 4th class that feels more like an actual chimney as opposed to a gully. Even though the climbing was a bit more exposed, there were plenty of stemming options and great holds making it very enjoyable. Also, we found it a lot easier to stay out of the middle of the gullies to avoid the looser rock and climbed on more solid rock just to the outside. Before too long, we had arrived at Winnie's slide. The snow was steep, but not very long. We roped up here and placed two pickets in the hard late summer snow on the way up. After topping out on the slope, it was just a short walk to a notch on the rock ridge that separates Winnie's slide from the Upper Curtis glacier. There are great bivy spots here: at least three spots already cleared for tents with great views of the route and there is running water easily accessible coming from the Upper Curtis Glacier. Both of us thought that this is a much better bivy location than below Winnie's slide. Putting a picket in on Winnie's slide Approaching the rock divide between Winnie's slide and the Upper Curtis Glacier -- this is where we camped Looking down at the camp area Camp all set up as the sun gets lower We quickly settled in, made dinner, and enjoyed a beautiful sunset. We are very fortunate to climb and enjoy such an area. Dinner with a view Sun setting over the Puget Sound Sun setting over the North Cascades Sun setting over Mount Baker In the morning, we got up, got ready, and climbed a short section of rock to an area where you can walk onto the Upper Curtis glacier. From there, we meandered up through the crevasses to gain the top of the glacier. Most of the crevasses we could either end run or cross on solid snow bridges. There was one last crevasse which split the glacier seemingly from end to end which we climbed into and then climbed the snow/ice on the opposite side to exit. It was fun to get a few swings in on the way up. Our route on the Upper Curtis Glacier Climbing rock up towards an easy moat crossing Stepping onto the glacier Walking on the Upper Curtis glacier Climbing out of a crevasse just before reaching easier terrain It is an easy walk across the Upper Curtis glacier to Hell's Highway. From below, Hell's Highway had looked pretty broken up, but that view was deceiving. It was very easy to navigate. We climbed straight up the middle aiming for where the crest of the ridge flattened out. All of the open crevasses were either right of us at the top or left of us at the bottom. Just as we topped out, clouds rolled in and obscured our view. However, there was a pretty well defined boot pack on the Sulphide making it simple to navigate without instruments. Crossing the glacier down towards Hell's Highway Hell's Highway Looking down as we climb Hell's Highway On the Sulphide in pea soup Before too long, we were at the Summit pyramid dropping our packs in a convenient moat and racking up with a small set of nuts, hexes, and tricams to do the SE rib. We climbed the SE rib in one long simul climb in boots. The climbing was never too hard and I definitely recommend it over the loose gully. On the rib, you get great views of both sides of the mountain, a better feeling of exposure, and solid rock. Changing gear(s) Looking down the ridge Simul climbing the SE rib on solid rock A useful pocket for a pink tricam On the summit, we had a little party and we both commented about how much we love the variety of the route. Shuksan is a beautiful and complex mountain that makes for a memorable climbing experience. Summit glory We simul rapped down the gully to avoid knocking rocks on each other and then quickly changed to crampons and headed down the Sulphide. Wow! The sulphide is a really long slog. Kudos to those who get it done on the way up. Since neither of us had any experience with the Sulphide glacier, we did a bit of wandering to find the exit trail. We found what I think is an upper camp complete with a composting toilet a little higher up on climber's left. We found a lower camp over on the rocks on climber's right of the route down towards the bottom. And finally, we found the trail out. Moody clouds on the way down the Sulphide Looking up the Sulphide towards the summit My awesome climbing partner, Jake Moon Yours truly Huge seracs on an icefall on the Crystal Glacier Found the potty! Found the trail! The sulphide's approach trail is pretty steep towards the top, quite damaged in the middle by blow down (does anybody know what happened here?), but I can't believe how jarring that last bit of old logging road is. By the end of the day, both of our feet were feeling it and we were relieved when we finally found the cars and changed into sandals. Shannon Ridge Flowers giving us solace on the last leg of the trail We exited a day earlier than we originally anticipated (with our now smaller party) and so we made our way to Sedro-Woolley to eat at Coconut Kenny's (We both loved the "small" salads and Mahalo sandwiches) before meeting up with my family who were camping near Granite Falls for more food and fun games. Gear Notes: Used 2 pickets for steeper snow Small passive rack of nuts, hexes, and tricams for SE Rib (hexes were most useful) Sandals for the drive back Approach Notes: Lake Ann trail to the lake, take the north trail that winds towards the chimneys, take the broadest and easiest looking gully to Winnie's slide

I'm looking to buy some kids and youth rock shoes in a number of sizes: (kid's 13 - men's 7) If you have anything available please send me a message or leave a note here.

Hey Jon! It's good to hear from you. We definitely need to get out again. Are you back in town?

Thanks for the kind words everyone. I've got an update on my friend for anyone who was involved. He has undergone surgery to fix two clean breaks: one to his tibia and one to his fibula. They put in plates and screws, but the prognosis is great. The ligament wasn't damaged and his recovery time shouldn't be too long. They expect he will regain full mobility without lasting pain or adverse effects. Thanks again for everyone who helped get him out of there.

It was great chatting with you up there. Here is one more pic:

Trip: Liberty Bell - Beckey Route (Accident and Rescue) Date: 6/22/2013 Trip Report: This trip report isn't about the route or the climb since that has been extensively discussed in the past. Rather it is about an unfortunate accident, the ensuing rescue, and the camaraderie of the climbing community. I was excited to get out into the mountains again this past weekend and so I gave my good friend and occasional climbing partner a call. After a brief discussion, we decided to do a fun route in the mountains with his daughter (age 14) and my son (age 10). Both of these youth have experience in the mountains. We've regularly taken them scrambling, cragging, snow caving, and last year I took my son on a fun climb up the Quien Sabe Glacier. But this was their first real "alpine" rock experience. We woke early on Saturday morning and made the drive to the Blue Lake Trailhead and although it was constantly drizzling on highway 20, the clouds parted to reveal beautiful skies just as we got to the trailhead. The four of us made quick work of the approach. The youth did a great job on the climb and while they struggled a bit on the lower section of P2 and the step across section of P3, the climb went well and everyone had a great time. Along the way, we met two nice climbers. Their trip report is here. Since we had climbed with 4 of us (I led with two half ropes and then we caterpillered the third rope), we made double rope rappels to get off the mountain. My friend and his daughter rappelled by themselves with backups and I rappelled with my son tied into me. It was about six o'clock and we quickly grabbed a snack and a drink, packed the bags, and headed down the Beckey gully. As many of you know, the Beckey gully can be quite unpleasant with the loose rock and since we had two youth with us, the steeper snow could be very dangerous. I lowered the youth down the steeper snow slope of the upper gulley while my partner and I down climbed the snow with ice axes and boots. Since I was doing the lowering, I was heading down last while my partner was the first one down. We had just finished lowering through the first full rope length and I had down climbed to a large sturdy boulder protruding from the snow when my partner, who was ahead of me, slipped on the last 50 feet of snow. He attempted to arrest, but wasn't able to before he hit the rocks below (fortunately, missing the short cliffs to skier's left). He immediately sat up and I called out to him to see if he was alright. He didn't answer. I called again and again there was no answer. I knew he heard me, he was sitting up about 120 feet from me. I called out once more but again there was no answer. I couldn't get down to him until I had got the youth to safety, so I quickly set up the lowering system and turned to his daughter and told her that when she got down to get check on her father and tell me what is going on. Within a minute or two she was down there and hurried to her dad who was still sitting down (he may have been doing more, but I couldn't tell from my vantage point). She yelled up to me that he had a "broken foot". I then set up my son and lowered him down to safety as well. At this point, another climbing party of two from Everett, the last party up there, had reached the boulder. We chatted quickly and then I rapped down to my friend leaving the rope for the other party to use. I did a quick assessment and found that he had no serious bleeding, no trouble breathing, and that while his pulse was elevated, he was going to be ok for the moment. His ankle was dislocated and he had broken his tib fib. It was immediately clear that he wasn't going to be making it out on his own and that we were very likely going to be staying the night until we had enough people to get him out safely. We had two immediate concerns: first, he was still on snow and running water which certainly wouldn't help him deal with shock and second, we had two youth with us who didn't have overnight gear and would make an already precarious situation potentially much much worse. I am so thankful that the other climbing party was there and so very helpful. They helped me move my friend to dry flat ground about 20 feet away and get him situated on our three ropes and packs. We then collected all of the extra clothing, food, water, and other helpful items from the youth and the other climbing party wrote down our assessment of the situation as we did a more thorough examine (finding many other contusions and abrasions). They volunteered to take the youth back to the car and call for help while I stayed with my friend and tried to keep him as stable and comfortable as I could given the situation. Once they left, I finished a more thorough examine of my friend, got him some food and water, and then prepared for the cold and potentially very wet night (clouds had been threatening and we had occasional drizzles). We stuffed all of the extra clothing in his jacket or covered him with it. We didn't have overnight gear, and so I took my knife and cut off branches from the nearest tree to provide some modicum of insulation for him. While it was better than nothing, it wasn't much. It looked pretty certain that the night was going to be memorably miserable. I continued to take his vitals and by this time his pulse had returned to normal and other vital signs looked good too, but he was in awful pain and all we had was ibuprofen. Nevertheless, he took it like a champ and I never once heard him complain. All he did was thank everyone who helped him. About an hour later, we saw two climbers coming up. When they got there they told us that they had met the others going down and had talked with them about the situation. They had a team of 3 climbers (mentioned here ) who had done the west face of NEWS early that day. Originally they had planned to bivy and climb the next day, but due to the threatening storm they had fortunately decided to go down. When they heard of our plight, they concluded why not spend the night out after all helping some other climbers and I'm so grateful for that! They came up with three sleeping bags, two tarps, three sleeping pads, a bunch of food, and drinks The third climber in their group raced down to call for help since he could move much faster without helping the youth down. We moved my friend onto a real sleeping pad and put a warm sleeping bag and tarp over him. The branches were then used to prop up his leg in a more comfortable position. From this point on, my friend was warm and the immediate danger of weather abated. And not only did they bring protection from the elements, they also brought some much needed good cheer to an otherwise dismal situation. We had fun chatting with them as we passed the time. A few hours later, the third climber arrived with more supplies and told us that SAR would arrive early the next morning. After some more talk, we settled in for the night. Fortunately, even though it was pouring rain as close as the parking lot, we never had any rain at our bivy, just passing clouds. For most of the night, it was clear and the full (or nearly full) moon on the night after the summer solstice was unbelievably bright. I don't think my friend slept at all and I'm pretty sure the others didn't sleep much as well, but things were comfortable enough for the night. As dawn came, I was anxious to hear the sound of coming rescue and before too long we saw a group of 7 from Okanogan County Search and Rescue coming up from the basin below. As they approached, we got up and organized our things as best as we could to be ready for the rescue. When they arrived they quickly assessed the situation, gave my friend pain medication and a splint, and moved him to a litter so they could lower him to a more level open area about 1200 feet down the mountain where a rescue helicopter could evacuate him. The search and rescue people are wonderful and very professional. We are so grateful to them and their dedication to helping those in need in the wilderness. It was great to watch them work and I had a great time talking with them. It wasn't easy lowering my friend through that loose and steep gully with a large team and an immobile man, but they did a great job. All the while, a group of mountain goats milled around watching us with amused interest. At one point, a baby mountain goat repeatedly ran into one of the rescue ropes bouncing off it with a twang each time. By about one o'clock on Sunday, they had lowered him to the intended pickup area and before too long we heard the approach of the King County rescue helicopter. It circled the basin a couple of times before coming in and dropping off a guy who got my friend situated and then lifted him into the helicopter before they headed out to Wenatchee hospital. I was so glad to see him go. We quickly packed up and headed down the trail to the cars. Again, I was grateful that the team of 3 helped me carry one of the extra packs while I carried my own and the other extra pack. At this point, I heard that the group of two climbers which escorted my son and my friend's daughter down the night before had driven to get help and food the night before and then drove our kids home. I am very grateful to them for the help. It was strange having driven the day before to the climb with four people to drive home alone now. I was surprised that despite not eating much, drinking much, or sleeping much, I felt absolutely fine. Instead, I was thinking about the experience and my friend and his family for the three hour drive home. As for the accident: of course we could have done something different. Perhaps if he had crampons he wouldn't have slipped or if we had all rapped the snow section then things wouldn't have unfolded like they did. I heard from the SAR team that people get hurt there often from a combination of loose rock, steep snow, and less experienced parties often being in the area. So I'm sure we should all exercise more caution there. But my friend is experienced and until the fateful slip happened everything was going just fine. We were managing the risk by lowering the youth and down climbing ourselves. A few more steps and we wouldn't have thought twice about it all. But sometimes unexpected things happen and sometimes people get hurt. Sometimes they get hurt badly. No, for me the biggest lesson that I have taken away from this is how much I love our climbing community. From the kindness of the first party we met on route, to the party of two that took our children to safety and called for help, to the wonderful party of three that brought warmth and cheer to our desperate circumstances, and the competent SAR team that rescued my friend, each group pitched in to help us in a very real way. I was thinking about it again last night as I lay in bed. Often, we lament how in modern society that people will look the other way or continue to go about their business while someone stands in need. We shout and curse at each other as we drive to work. But up there on that mountain, we experienced the best side of humanity. Each of us doing our best to help someone. It made me think, perhaps it is the ease of our lives that leaves us so cold to each other. Maybe the fact that out in the wilderness, we all know that we could be that someone helps us act better. But in any case, I hope we never lose that. It restores my faith in humanity to interact with people like you. So as I hear about terrible stories of selfishness and ego from around the world that threaten that camaraderie, I hope we can remember to keep together and help each other reach great heights in the mountains and in life. My son on the summit of Liberty Bell My friend at sunset at our bivy spot The SAR team getting my friend ready to be lowered down the gully The SAR team lowering my friend down the last section before the evac