As the book-sized rock shatter over my knees, I was overcome with pain like nothing I had ever experience (and I went through natural child birth). Intellectually, I knew my body would produce enough adrenaline to absorb some of the pain but what was taking so long. While I waited, I screamed in agony.
As the pain started to ease, my hands started to shake. Was I going into shock? This was the last thing we needed. The shaking slowed down and we started to assess the damage. The right knee took the majority of the impact so we went there first. There were lots of superficial scraps but the knee cap was intact and the knee still moved. This was the first time I was thankful that this mountain was full of crumbly stones. The rock shattered instead of my knee.
Then we saw the blood penetrating my pants on my left knee. As we pulled up the pant leg, we saw a deep cut about an inch long on the inside of my knee. Blood was pumping from it. The rock must have grazed the knee and sliced the leg. Now Jim and I have a complete trouble kit so I could bandage it up. The only problem was I left it in camp. I had moved it to my big pack the night before and did not remember to move it back. A mistake I will never make again.
We had to stop the bleeding. I had Jim cut my bandana in half. We tied one half on each knee. It was time to see if I could walk. I stood, and beyond miracles, both knees worked. Though they were tender and getting stiff by the minute, they worked and could bare weight.
As I started to work my way down the gully, I realized my butt on the right side hurt. We suspect I was sitting on a pointy rock and my butt absorbed some of the impact. We had move about 10 steps when I realized my left knee was pumping blood. I looked down at my shoe and got my verification. Every time I placed weight on the leg, blood pumped out of my knee. We had to immobilize the knee. This was no place for a rescue.
Jim and I stopped to talk this through. We had to deal with one problem at a time. We were a long way from camp. There were a lot of obstacles in our way. If we stayed here, we would be bivying out for the night waiting for a rescue in the morning. We chose not to think about anything past getting me down off this tiny notch to flatter ground. We had a long set of multiple gullies that would lead us down to the flat area where we had stashed our snow gear.
We needed something to hold a bandage, my bandana, to my knee. We removed the waist belt on my summit pack and the chest strap from Jim’s. This worked great to hold the bandana against the wound. I applied pressure while Jim began setting up our first of many rappels down the gullies. Our single rope worked very well and Jim was able to establish excellent rappel anchors which was surprising in such a dirty, lose gully.
I was able to rappel with very little problem. I used the right knee for support and tried to drag the left leg. With the addition of an auto blocker on my rappel, I felt quit safe. Near the bottom of the gullies, Jim came up with a rappel that would move us one gully to the right which would allow me to rappel over the first snow patch. It was steep and we could not figure out how I was going to walk across it. We had come up by scrambling the moat. That was not going to happen now.
The last rappel out of the gullies put me a short distance from the flat area where we had stashed our snow gear and climbing boots. We had both worn approach shoes for the rock climb. Jim had to deal with my shoes on my left foot. The knee was swelling and becoming difficult to bend. We clearly needed to get some compression on it.
We started talking about everything we had with us. Jim had a spare set of fleece gloves. I had bungee cords on my pack. We had a canvas gear bag. And then there was all the runners and binners. We applied the fleece gloves on top of the blood soaked bandana. Used the bungees to hold the gloves down. Added the canvas gear bag. Untied a couple of runners and wrapped them around the bag then tied them off. It was still not tight enough. We added a binner and presik to tighten everything down. It was a work of art. We regret having not gotten a picture of it.
It was time to alert my ground crew, Jim Aga, of the injury but we needed a plan first. Could I get back to camp? It was difficult enough to get to the south side of Hard Mox with 2 healthy legs. Could I do it all banged up?
We broke the route into 2 major pieces: getting to the Col of the Wild and getting from there to camp. We knew we could get from the Col of the Wild to camp in the dark so we focused on what it would take to get to Col of the Wild.
1) front pointing in crampons up a 150 feet snow finger
2) climb 50 feet up a dirty slab
3) cross several exposed ledges
4) ascend 100 feet of rocky ledges to the notch in the Ridge of Gendarmes
5) descend 100 feet of loose, rock ledges towards the Col of the Wild
6) rappel the class 4 wall and a short gully
7) down climb the final rock ledge to the Col of the Wild
It was 7pm so we had 3 hours. I could do this. It was that or stay here. I took out my InReach and typed the message to Jim Aga “I have been injured but can still walk. We are going to try and get back to camp. I will check back in soon.” The InReach would not only send the message but our exact location. Jim already had our camp location so he knew which direction we were heading. Then I turned off the InReach and addressed the task at hand.
In the meantime, Jim Aga looked at the message and thought “now what?”. He needed to let someone know but who. So what do you do at a time like this, call 911. They were able to pass his message onto the North Cascades Head Climbing Ranger, Kevork Arackellian. Kevork immediately called Jim Aga back. They discussed the situation. Kevork knew the Moxes well. They left it where Jim Aga was to forward all InReach messages to Kevork and they would wait for more news from Jim and I.
My first task was to climb the snow finger. I would have to front point which would mean I would have to use both legs. Jim strapped on my crampons, by now I could not touch either foot. Jim put me on rope so he could at least have me on belay if I slipped then he headed up the snow finger kicking bomber steps to make my work a lot easier.
Then it was my turn to climb. With every step, I said to myself “I don’t want to camp here”. I kept a steady pace not wanting to stop and think about what I was doing. When I reach the top and Jim started taken my crampons off, it was evident that the leg was bleeding again. I felt sorry for anyone climbing Hard Mox the next day. They would have to cross my blood in the snow.
I immediately hit the dirty rock slab. Again, I did not want to think about it. I had to do it or sleep here. I did not want to sleep here. Once I reached the top, I had a very exposed ledge in front of me. I waited for Jim and the rope. In the meantime, I did more compressing on the left knee. Hopefully, it would stop bleeding soon.
Once I was across the loose, exposed ledge, I felt I had the most difficult stuff behind me. Now we were just fighting the clock. I dragged the leg when the terrain allowed. Used my upper body to pull myself along when rock holds were available. My ice axe worked as a cane when needed. In no time, Jim and I were crossing the Ridge of Gendarmes.
Now what? Going down was going to be almost impossible. The knee didn’t bend. Jim would have to belay me down on my butt. I was able to move much quicker than we thought. Once on my butt, I was able to lift the left leg and slide down the rocks using my right leg and hands for balance. Jim had me on rope to control my speed.
We hit the class 4 step as the sun was going down. We would still have 30 minutes of daylight. Jim put together a rappel that not only got me down the step but down the gully so I could easily access the final ramp leading to the Col of the Wild.
We reached the col with time to assess the next objective of how to get me down the steep, loose scree field. We got out our headlamps so we would be ready when darkness hit. I sent another message to Jim Aga “At Col of the Wild, heading for camp, stay tuned”.
We decided to belay me down the sandiest runs we could find. I began moving through the bolders on my butt using my arms and good leg to lift my body up and over rocks. In one long lowering belay, Jim was able to slide me down the dirt to the snow.
We decide to use the same technique on the steep snow slope. I would sit on the snow and then slide on my butt while Jim basically lowered me on belay. It took 4 or 5 belays to get me down to the basin where we would turn and head for camp.
We started to feel like we could do this. It was 2 plus miles to camp on a gentle traverse. Jim would put me on a short rope so I could use both poles and no ice axe. We had the track from the 4 climbers in front of us. They were camped right next to us. We could follow their tracks right back to our tent.
What we had forgotten was the loose, rock bands that ran through the snow field. We were making good time and I was actually feeling pretty good. I had found a stride where I could just swing my left leg along. Thank goodness, my left leg was also on the downhill side. Then we hit the first rock band.
Crossing them in crampons sucks. Crossing them in crampons with 2 bad knees was brutal. By the time we crossed the last one, I was completely exhausted and whimpering. I felt so sorry for Jim. There was nothing he could do for me but drag me on. At this point, we just had to get to camp. We had help there and we needed help.
As we climbed the final snow slope to camp, I carefully listened for Lisa’s voice. I knew she would be watching for us. I was wondering if we would ever get there and then we started down again, this meant we were close. Just a few more steps. I started to emotional collapse. Then I heard Lisa’s voice, I knew everything was going to be ok. We had made it back to camp.
Lisa immediately took control of the situation. Her husband, Kevin, appeared from their tent and together they handled the situation. Got me changed into warm clothes. Got me in my tent. Addressed my wounds (Lisa is a nurse. How handy). And got us feed. Kevin and George had headed home earlier that day when they found out Kevin and Lisa would wait here for us to return.
When I got to camp, I sent Jim Aga an InReach message saying “In Camp, stay tuned” . Jim Aga sent me a message back with Kevork’s phone number. It was 2am. I was not going to call him. It took Lisa about an hour to convince me to hit the SOS button and start a rescue. Neither Jim nor I could figure out how to get me off the Redoubt glacier but it seemed like admitting defeat to hit the SOS button. Then it was time to admit it, I was done. I was not moving again without help. Heck, it was taking all 3 of them: Kevin, Lisa, and Jim, to help me just go pee.
Once I hit the SOS button, I was immediately contacted by the InReach SOS team. “What was the situation? Was I stable? What was the nature of my injuries?” I purchased the InReach as a way to communicate with a ground crew. Get weather. And get help if need be. I never thought of how efficient it would make an actual rescue. Every climbing group should have one.
After I assured the InReach SOS team that all was good and I was stable, I contact Jim Aga one last time saying “I pushed the button and am going to sleep. Talk to you in the morning”. As I layed in my sleeping bag, I began to shake uncontrollably. I think I just needed to let go of all the stress of the day and just be hurt. Jim just held me and let me cry.
Good thing, Lisa and Kevin’s tent was right next to ours. My InReach started going off at 8am but Jim and I were sleeping through it. Lisa heard it and woke us up. The InReach SOS team was checking in to see how I was doing. The other message was from Kevork informing me that a helicopter was on its way from Mt Rainer. We knew it would stop in Marblemount to pick up Mountain Rescue Rangers and any gear they needed. Kevork also asked questions like could I still walk? Was I still bleeding? He was assessing what needed to go in the chopper.
This whole communication made all of us so much more at ease. We knew the helicopter was not going to arrive until noon. We took our time eating breakfast and packing. The 4 climbers we had meet the day before on Hard Mox came over for a visit. Before they headed out, they want to make sure we didn’t need anything. They were totally willing to stay and help.
Throughout the morning, the InReach SOS team and Kevork continued to send me messages. Once a rescue coordinator was assigned, I was sent her phone number. I contacted her and she asked more detailed questions like “What was the current temps? Wind? Was there a large flat snow field around me? Where exactly we were camped? How much did I weigh? What did my pack weigh? All the things that would help them completely prepare for a smooth rescue.
We were packed and ready for the helicopter before noon. Now all we could do is wait. While the guys, stood on the nearby knoll watching. Lisa took the opportunity to close her eyes and rest in the sun. She had earned it.
You could hear the chopper coming way before you could see it. It circled us before heading in for a landing. These rescue pilots are amazing. He was able to put the chopper about 50 feet from me. Soon we were talking to the rescue rangers. They performed their assessment. Looked at the wounds. Took pictures. Then loaded me in. Jim and I said goodbye. It would take him 2 days to get home.
As I took off and looked out the window, I saw my party waving goodbye. It is so important to climb with the right people. People you can trust. People you know. People who value others over anything else. We are a competitive group but we are there for each other when it counts. And at this point, I was counting on Lisa and Kevin to take care of Jim. He was mentally and physically fried and needed some TLC.
As we flew over the North Cascades, I was treated to an up close and personal view of Mt Challenger. We flew right over Perfect Pass between Whatcom and Challenger. We had camped there 3 weeks prior during the Picket Traverse. Then I was treated to views of Crooked Thumb and Phantom. There was the Southern Pickets with Pickell Pass and Picket Pass. The final treat was a fly by of Mt Despair. This would be the closest I would ever get to its summit. I promised Jim he would not have to repeat that climb.
Throughout our journey back to camp the day before, Jim and I separately kept think of Joe Simpson, climber and author of “Touching The Void”, and his quote on climbing “… it was fun just brilliant fun, and every now and then it went wildly wrong, and then it wasn’t.” Jim asked me tonight over dinner if I regretted climbing Hard Mox. We almost turned around, did I wish we had? No. I have so many amazing memories of times spent in the mountains. I would not sacrifice one of them. Bad things happen every day. I just as easily could have been in an automobile accident. I refuse to stop living life.
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