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the biggest whipper


erik

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haven't seen this thread show up yet, so here it is.

i have to truthfully admit that i have never taken the "BIG" ride, though i took and gumby lead fall on stern farmer, my first aid lead about 5 yrs ago. cam hooks, brass nutz and 185lbs beginner equals upside down & a spooked me. though the fall was short, it did enough damage that i have always frowned upon the aid leads since. though currently i have opened myself to new things again and have taken aiding back into interest. so physically the fall was nothing, but mentally it was a big one.

free climbing, somehow falls don't seem as bad. maybe it is the fact that usually you know when you are going to fall. though now a days i don't see as many falls, just more cries of "TAKE!"

who else has a better story than mine?

probably shouldn't have started this one, cause i'm sure it will catch up with me soon. who wants to belay me this weekend?

 

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Though it didn't happen to me, several years ago I saw up close something worthwhile:

While belaying at the 12th belay on the Zodiac, El Capitan, I watched the British climber leading the previous pitch blow a hook move 10 feet below me. He fell back, pulling piece after piece, including a 1/4" bolt 20 feet below him, struck a glancing blow off a ledge 35 feet down, at which point I could hear the air expire loudly from his lungs, then launched, head first, down the cliff. To the continued accompaniment of "thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk" (his pieces ripping), I watched in amazement as he disappeared down the overhanging wall. The last thing I saw was the bottom of his feet. An instant later, I heard an anguished groan, and the rope stretch catapulted him back upward; his contorted face appeared briefly, coming towards me, before he fell back again and out of view. Turns out he had ripped the entire pitch to within 20 feet of the belay, including 2 # 4 camalots in a hollow flake, fixed pins, the bolt, you name it, until a friend inverted in the crack and stopped him. Falling way past the belay, his fall had easily exceeded 175 feet! I screamed down to his partner, concerned about him. After a moment, and after calling out continuously, leaning far out from the wall, I could just see the two brits, now reunited at the belay; the leader was now wearing sunglasses (at twilight) and smoking a cig. His partner replied, in a thick british accent: "E'S ALRIGHT! E'S FINE! BUT E'S DONE FOR THE DAY!!!

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yeah that fall that seb grieve took in that movie is just about the sickest one i've seen. though a couple weeks ago some dude took a fatty on j-gardens....good thing his much smaller belayer was tied into that burned stump. by the way who burned that stump...very unattractive.

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A couple of years ago I was on the 10b pitch of "on line" at static point. I was about 20ft above the second bolt, straight up, attempting to traverse to the third bolt. Man I was locked up! As I stood on nothing I knew that it was my time to ride and I didn't want to go. I focused on my feet as they began to slowly melt off. I finally forced myself desperately to move onto the traverse, knowing that I was going to blow! As I surfed back down the slab my partner had time to yard in line twice! Took a 40 footer. We didn't finish the route. It is waiting for me complete. Maybe this year?

I have since learned that I need to traverse straight off the second bolt rather than up higher.

A few weeping wounds is all I recieved for my effort (not too bad of a price in my book!)

S

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Took a large fall on one of my first leads on gear at Castle Rock years back.

Not large or super but about 15 feet or so. Good thing the rock was steep smile.gif or else...

I remember a party observing too. They must have been thinking "Umm that looks scary, does that idiot know what he is doing?". I rested and sended the climb shortly after. It was good to know at that exp. level for me that gear actually works eh!

Super thanks to Rush Twilley and Mike Adamson for getting me into gear climbing! I still suck but enjoy it over anything now. Rush would lead hard multi pitch routes in his tennies regularly. I am not worthy! It was total entertainment to watch him send some hard shit out here! And ole Mike dragging me up stuff in the Icicle is what really got me hooked.

Erik, Still have yet to take an aid fall! Scary! I know it is a brain FUBAR. Heheh like your story too.

-Ray

[This message has been edited by rayborbon (edited 03-29-2001).]

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Ya know, I believe that if I am gonna push my limits then I am gonna take a few falls.

I havent had any that were terrible, meaning injurious to me or others. I have been able to really think about the terrain and when serious trama is present I have backed off, and when I have known that a fall will be pretty painless (relatively) I have been able to go for it.

Usually, (70 percent of the time anyway) I send the route. But it really helps to boost my confidence when gear holds.

S

PS-at static point there was a gal at the anchor with my bro. When she heard the commotion she looked up, seeing me fall she said simply to Chris "Nice catch"

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quote:

Originally posted by Smoker:

A couple of years ago I was on the 10b pitch of "on line" at static point. I was about 20ft above the second bolt, straight up, attempting to traverse to the third bolt.

[...] I have since learned that I need to traverse straight off the second bolt rather than up higher.

S

I led that thing like 5 years ago and ended up just like you maybe, right of the 3rd bolt standing on a less than comforting hold. I reached way out left and clipped the bolt then was faced with yarding the dragging rope left across my body. I looped my fingers around the draw but didn't weight it, probably woulda been able to catch myself if I blew.

Got the courage up to try it again just last year. I'd seconded it once since then and knew there was a way to traverse left earlier. There must be a nice path of holds there 'cause though I thought I was moving more left I ended up in exactly the same predicament 5 years later! Left arm stretched straight, thumb and index finger in a loop encircling but not touching the draw, trying not to breath while I yard the dragging rope across my body to the draw.

Sorry, this was not a whipper story.

chucK

 

 

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i was learning how to aid at index on the first pitch of thin fingers one rainy afternoon. i had a top rope lucky so it wasnt bad. ok so i was about 10 feet up and i put in a bad chock. i weighed it and it seemed fine i cliped my etrie(sp) into the peice and put my full body wieght on it. it held but then i shifted into a bad position and it pulled. the top rope caught me about 3 feet from some really pointy uncomfortable rocks. taking a fall will aiding is scary!

Aidan

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I've been wondering how a fall would be on the crux of Online, I guess know I know. Didn't you guys know, the same rule applies on friction as in ice climbing and that is DON'T FALL! cause if you do it's always going hurt! No major falls for me in ten years of climbing, but I've made up for those in epics! (still I am knocking on wood right now).

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Well here are a couple:

A fella fell from the top of the 3rd pitch of Ecstacy (5.7) at Seneca Rocks WV a few years ago. He holds the record for the longest fall (survived) at Seneca. Landed head 1st in talus. Chipped teeth, concusion and a few broken bones. He told his belayer to belay him without a belay device. Friction of melting palms and rope traveling through gear helped slow his decent.

2. I fell half way up the 1st pitch of my 1st solo aid route. after a couple RURPs, I could get nothing in. I decided to free out of my aiders to go for a ledge where gear could placed. I had paid out what I thought was enough rope and re-tigtened my clove hitch. I couple friction moves to a ledge and "OH SHIT" not enough rope. I could not hold on with one hand long enough to loosen the clove hitch and surmount the ledge. After trying as long as remaining strength would allow I pitched off. a second later my rack clanked on the rocks below. I was horizontal looking up inches off the ground.

I finished it the next day (Invisible Airwaves A4 at Looking Glass NC).

3.I took a 15 footer in a crevasse on Athabasca. Only to take a 70 foot ride in slide an hour later. We had just unroped (4 roped together for glacier travel but 2 climbing parties on the face) and I was completely covered but my upper torso was sticking out when I came to a stop.

I think I prefered the crevasse fall over the avalache. Avalaches are much more scary.

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I was leading an easy climb at Tieton last year when my attention was drawn to a loud wimpering emanating from a green leader a few columns over. He was near the top of the crack hyperventilating loudly, his belayer trying to talk him up in soothing tones.

 

"Put some gear in."

"I can't!"

"Yes you can."

"I can't! I'm gonna fall!"

"No you aren't."

"If I let go, I'm gonna fall!"

"Then hold on."

"Then how am I supposed to put gear in?!?!"

"Are your feet good?"

"They're f***ing wedged."

"Then get some pro in!"

Some sort of resolution to the present conundrum seemed imminent. I found a rest and watched.

The leader took one hand out of the crack and fished a set of hexes off his harness. At that moment, his other hand popped out of the crack like a cork out of a champagne bottle and he launched backwards off the rock into a swan dive, flinging the hexes in the air. However, his feet were still solidly jammed in the crack, so instead of plummeting, he sort of slinkied over backwards, his helmet hitting the rock before his feet popped. Once his feet popped out, he executing a sort of back headspring flip, ending up right side up by the time his weight came onto his last piece, which then popped, dropping him for another 10 feet or so. All this while the hexes are still floating, jangling through the air on a parabolic arc to the ground. The hexes hit the ground, and he came to a jolting stop maybe 25+ feet below where pitched. He lowered off, psychologically traumatized, but totally unhurt--not even a scratch. The helmet clearly saved his skull.

While it may seem elementary, watching it made me much more conscious of climbing situations where my feet are jammed in such a way as they might stick if I fall.

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Five years ago I was leading a late season ascent of Pandome falls while it was in really crappy conditions - you crashed through a top layer of ice to find it hollow behind, maybe a couple of inches on the rock, and I could see water running behind. I scratched, clawed, hooked and managed to get within fifteen feet of the anchors when I tried to monkey hang. My hand slipped out of my glove, I pitched over backwards and fell past my last screw ten feet below me - I activated the screamers on the first screw, and the one on the screw that held me. I ended up upside down, with my tool and glove stuck in the ice above me, and a bunch of skiers from the resort lined up and pointing at me. My partner told me later when he cleaned the route he could wriggle most of the screws out of the rotten ice. I decided ice season was over.

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I've had a few "heart stoppers", mostly when aid climbing, but in twenty years of climbing, no big rides, yet. It's nice to know that pro really works, IF it's placed well, AND the rock is good. Even #0 TCUs, which is really amazing. Here's a couple of bad ones I've seen:

1) The very first time I went ice-climbing was in Hyalite canyon, outside of Bozeman, MT in 1983. There were four of us. Mark had been climbing ice for a few years, but the rest of us were totally inexperienced, and he seemed like an alpine God to us starry-eyed youngsters. He started up a steep 70 foot column, as we watched from the bottom. He placed a screw 15 feet up (the old chouinards that had to be levered in with the pick of an axe. Man, equipment has gotten a LOT better), and continued up, placing another screw at the the midway point. It was early season, and the ice wasn't really solid. Mark placed another screw about 50 feet up, and gunned for the top. He was starting to look a little shaky, but we were all awe-struck, and a little scared at the prospect of trying such a difficult climb, even on toprope. At the exit move at the top, Mark was preparing to swing a tool, and the other tool popped. He pitched off backwards, and the screw fifteen feet below him held just long enough to swing him back into the ice, before it ripped out. He caught the crampon on his right boot on the ice, and instantly sustained a closed tibia-fibula fracture just above the top of his boot. Continuing the fall, he was caught just as he hit the base on his back. We were freaked, to say the least. He was conscious, but stunned, as he had taken a head shot that cracked his helmet. We carried him down through the snow and blow down, got him into the car, and then to the hospital in Bozeman. I told him there was no way I was gonna coninue with this insane sport, but he convinced me that he had misjudged his own abilities so early in the season, not to mention the quality of the ice, and it was a good lesson. I still ice climb, and even though the gear has gotten MUCH better/safer, I play conservatively, and ALWAYS wear a helmet.

2) About five years ago, my partner and I were parked below Washington Pass, packing/racking for Liberty Crack. I had done the route a few times previously, but it was my partners first "big" climb, and we planned on doing it low and slow, and have a good time. (Fix the first three pitches, sleep at the base, jug/climb to belay #8 the next day, bivy on the comfortable sandy ledges, and finish the third day) As we were getting ready, a truck pulled up, and a couple guys from Colorado got out. They planned on Liberty Crack, also, but were going to do it in one day, after fixing the first three pitches. They were racking pins and had a hammer, and I told them it would go clean, especially if they had Leeper cam hooks, which work great on the first pitch pin scars. Anyway, my partner and I humped to the base, racked up, and made it to the belay below the Lithuanian lip, just as the Colorado boys started up. At that point, as if on cue, we saw eight more people hiking toward the route. After they saw our two groups on the route, four of the people turned around, but the other four continued up, heads down at a furious pace. My partner and I had re-racked and stacked the ropes, and were watching the progress of the Colorado guys below us. I was savoring the warm day, the alpine scenery, and the prospect of the next few day's fun. When the group of four dropped their loads at the base, I yelled down, inquiring about their intentions. One of them, who was very red-faced and was ordering his pardners around, shouted they were going to do Liberty Crack. His body language oozed confrontation and tension, but I told him the belays weren't suitable for more than a couple teams, and suggested they do something else in the area, like the East Face of Lexington. He said he'd done it. I suggested the DEB on South Early Winter. "Done it". North Face Burgundy? "Done it." I was getting a little pissed off, and finally just told him I didn't care what he did, but I felt it would endanger our groups if he insisted on trying to establish a party of four on the route with us. (As a side note, how do other people feel about this?? Was I out of line, or is this acceptable climbing etiquette?) The Colorado climbers were at our belay by now, and commented on what an asshole "Mr. Uptight" was. I shrugged my shoulders, and started up. After I got above the lip, I was seperated from the noise and tension below, and relaxed, enjoying the wonderful climbing and exposure. After juqqing up to the next belay, my partner told me "Mr. Uptight" was going for it anyway. I cruised the next pitch, and set up to rap. We had brought a 200 foot haul/jug rope, which covered the 2nd and 3rd pitches. My partner rapped from the 2nd belay down to the belay below the Lithuanian lip, and then I rapped and cleaned the third pitch. I was prepared for a bad scene at the first belay, but after I cleared the lip, there was nobody on the wall, except my partner, who was now rapping to the base. As I rapped the first pitch, in the fading light, I saw blood on the rock. It turns out that "Mr. Uptight" had ripped while aiding the first pitch, flipped upside down, and gashed his head. (He wasn't wearing a helmet) He lost his glasses, too. After I got to the base, I could see his group heading down. We had the base to ourselves, once again. We heated up some ravioli, popped a couple of beers, and relaxed in our sleeping bags, watching a blanket of stars settle on a beautiful alpine scene. The next morning, the Colorado boys woke us up early, after hiking up from their truck. Since they were gunning for it in a day, and only had the first pitch fixed, I offered the use of our fixed rope on the 2nd/3rd pitches. They said they had seen the group of four down on the road the night before, and "Mr. Uptight" was bullying his partners around, and blustering on about what assholes we were! We all had a good laugh, but I felt kinda bad for the guy. He sees climbing as a way to "conquer" nature, and is missing out on the serenity and beauty of the sport. Anyway, the Colorado boys jugged our rope, finished the route in a day, and left their addresses and a five-dollar bill on my windshield. (Buying us a beer) Nice guys. My partner and I strolled casually up the route, and had a great time. Man, I HATE ugly tension in the alpine. I climb to get away from that shit.

Sorry this was so long, but I think it's a good story.

cheers

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Couple of Index stories:

Must be 10 years ago now, my friend Steve was leading Kite Flying Blind for the first time. Neither of us had been on it, but the book described it as a "sport climb"; accordingly, Steve racked only quickdraws. To his chagrin, he discovered that the bolts ended about 30 feet shy of the belay, since the blockier terrain could be protected with gear. He decided to go for it anyway, since it seemed to get a lot easier. (It's about 5.8, the bottom of the route is 11b). So up he went, no problems until he grabbed a big jug right at the lip of the belay ledge... it looked solid, but after holding long enough for him to commit his weight, ripped off. Steve was off for a 60+ foot fall, by far the longest either of us had personally witnessed. I had time to wonder whether the bolt would hold and to marvel at the fact that his high-pitched scream warbled and his arms and legs windmilled just like in the cartoons. It yanked me a good 15 feet off the ground, level with the first bolt. It's a good thing I wasn't tied into an anchor, since the handhold he pulled off hit the ground right where I had been standing, and would have killed me, helmet or no... The scar on the rock where the handhold ripped out is still visible, on the left edge of the ledge!

A few years later, we arrived at the lower wall late in the day, planning to go up the first two pitches of Godzilla (a burly 10a crack) so we could throw a toprope on Jap. Gardens. Just as we came around the corner, there was a tremendous clatter and a scream. A guy was hanging head down with his head a bare 6 inches above the ground. Turns out he and his partner were in the Army, and had recently learned basic climbing techniques as part of their training. Excited, they went out and bought their own gear, and on their first day off, drove up to Index. The guy who fell had selected Godzilla as his FIRST EVER LEAD!!!

Somehow he made it up to where the layback gets serious, then pitched after a shake-fest of epic proportions. He pulled both pieces in the crack above, fell to the bottom of the crack, hit the ledge and tipped upside down, continuing towards the ground head first. He zippered all his lower pieces, and the only thing that held was the big block with slings on it. I mean, the block was the only thing his rope was clipped to *at all* after the fall! He was not seriously injured, though he suffered many minor cuts and bruises - true evidence that God protects the innocent.

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  • 3 weeks later...

After finishing Godzilla one late fall day, Kevin and I were headed back to the car, walking beneath the Slab routes. On the ledge above the first pitch of the Lizard we noticed a guy anchored to the tree belaying another guy starting out on the thin corner of the second pitch. Obviously out of his comfort zone, he had placed one piece low and was standing on the holds above the first move, sketching more than a bit. I said to Kevin, "If he comes off he's going to rip that piece." Seconds after I finished speaking, the guy peels. The piece rips as he bounces once on the ledge and goes over the edge. His belayer locks off as he swings helmet first into the small corner at the bottom of the first pitch. My first thought was broken neck until he starts screaming and wiggling. Now I'm thinking brain damage. Kevin and I hurry over to find the guy quite dazed and freaked, but otherwise undamaged. I check him for signs of neurotrauma ("Where are you?" "Follow my fingers with your eyes.", etc.) as his partner raps from the tree. After a heavy dose of lecture about proper anchor position/directional placements, we left the newbie to contemplate taking up another sport.

On the other hand, as a rank beginner, I once launched onto a route at Patrick's Point State Park on the north coast of CA named appropriately Low Tide Crack. It was the day after my last finals at HSU and I felt huge.

I climbed up about 15 feet, placed an old #4 Chouinard stopper and continued jamming. I stopped to place another nut about ten feet higher and barndoored as I fiddled with the bundle of wires, ripping the skin off my left index finger down to meat. Brian caught me as my toes scraped the barnacles at the base of the route. I readily relinquished the lead and Brian, in a show of magnanimity never since equalled, lowered off to give me the easier upper third. It wasn't a big ride, but right below where I touched down was another 20 feet into the 48 degree water of the Pacific. If that stopper hadn't held, I would have bounced once and then been dashed to bits by the rollers beating on the base of Wedding Rock.

 

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One time about 8 years ago I was still pretty new to leading and launched into the first pitxch of Eagle's Domain on the Squaw with a buddy's rack. it was all original 1976 friends and home-made nuts and stuff. eagle's is all about 1 inch wide and i ran out of gear that fit about half way up so i started faking it with friends with 2 cams camming and rp stacks and stuff. got to a bit of fist jamming in a wet crack and both hands slimed out at once, slitting one wrist open on a quartz crystal on the way. so i'm airborne with blood spurting everywhere from my slashed wrist. last piece is a flared solid friend about 10 feet below. so i fall 20 feet and the friend rips. i get flipped around by the force of it blowing out so that i'm facing out and down like a base jumper. just have time to think "Oh shit I'm going to die shocked.gif" when the next piece, a sideways #3 hex on a home-reswaged wire, actually holds me, net fall, about 45 feet. my wrist was gashed deep but didn't need stitches but there was a lot of blood spraying and i looked like i was near death from the blood stains all over. friend andy drove me back home, called another partner, drove back to squamish and did the route.

moral of the story -when you're leading something you could fall on it's better to use your own rack than someone else's, especially if theirs is crap.

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Another one from Index. In about 1979 or 80, I thought I'd try out the new crack 'n ups I bought at REI, to get ready to go try The Nose. I started up City Park and everything seemed to be going pretty well until, for no apparent reason, one of these little devils blew on me. The crack wasn't as hammered out then as it later became, so the stopper placements weren't quite as good as they are now. I ripped three of them, broke a biner on one that held, and continued to fall, about 70 feet, to be caught, upside down, about ten feet off the deck. Hippy Fred was sitting back against a tree, smoking his pipe, and gazed up at me to say "hey, man, wanna smoke some hash?"

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