lost rucksack: Dragontail Peak

[kenp]

While climbing the triple (hidden) couloir route on Dragontail with my brother Glenn, I was a victim of a rock-fall accident. A watermelon sized bomb dropped from somewhere above and bounced down the couloir like a crazy pinball machine. I yelled ROCK! and flattened myself on the ice just seconds before impact. I believe the rock hit the ice just above my head and then rolled over me. It hit with such force that my rucksack was torn off my back, I didn’t see how far it went. I was belaying Glenn (about 100 feet below) at the time. I may have lost consciousness, I was in another place, a world of pain and confusion. I remember first becoming aware of a strange sound, after some time I realized it was my bro yelling my name over & over. He climbed up to me, added an anchor or two and did a quick assessment: no visible blood and my arms/legs seemed straight and I was able to move them. The only obvious sign of trauma was a significant shortness of breath. The next several hours were spent by lowering me down one rope length at a time, crossing the rather large ‘shrund and making our way back to the tent at Colchuck lake. Early the following morning we both knew I had a serious medical issue going on, my left chest had swollen to twice the size as my right side and it sounded like plastic wrap under my skin when we pushed on it. Glenn started packing to leave when we saw two hikers coming down Aasgard pass. We called them over and one agreed to make a run back to the trailhead to summon a rescue. Later that day we heard the first helicopter coming across the lake, they hovered a moment and left. A while later there came a yellow rubber raft across the lake carrying paramedic Steve May and a MR person. They promptly strapped my ass to a backboard, started o2 and fluids and radioed for another copter. Before long a larger bell ranger type came skimming across the water to a hasty LZ that they had built by cutting down a few small larch trees. A quick ride to Wenatchee to an awaiting ambulance and then to the hospital where a surgeon placed a chest tube to relieve my pneumohydrothorax . I have since fully recovered and still climb actively (the same route twice, but was unable to locate my missing pack).

By the way, the accident occurred in July, 1975 (not a typo). If anyone here remembers anything or has heard of a found pack full of gear and clothing please PM me! I can describe the contents. I will glady pay a finders fee!

[dberdinka]

Whoaaa! Thats an intense tale, to see that pack again would probably stir up a lot of memories. Thank you for sharing.

[kenp]

I rarely even think about it, unless I hear rockfall! I learned that starting late can KILL YOU. I only mention it now because I had a pair of loaned jumars in that sack and the person who I borrowed them from (Dick McGowan) is gravely ill. I thought it would be nice to return them.