October 17, 2004 in Outdoors

Lucky girl Alpine Lakes Wilderness, Washington

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In August, I had a wilderness experience that changed my life. Right now, I am happy to be alive.

I was unroped and scrambling on Class 4 rock on the West Ridge of Mount Stuart in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness when I strayed a bit off route, climbed through a 5th class move, decided it prudent to back off and began down-climbing.

I made a mistake and fell, tumbling about 60 feet down the rocks near Long John Tower.

My helmet and pack took the brunt of the hits while my left shoe was peeled off my foot and my ice ax was ripped off my pack and went flying.

Upon landing, I was relieved to be alive and able to feel my fingers and toes.

My climbing partners, Len Kannapell, Tuney Kannapel and Victor Yagi moved quickly, calmly and with expertise. They are popular climbing partners for a variety of reasons including spirit, knowledge and strength. They patched me up and moved me to safety.

Len made a two-hour uphill blitz to get a cell phone connection and called 911.

Four climbers from the Tacoma Mountaineers nonchalantly gave up their summit attempt and committed to help us out to the trailhead.

They worked through the various problems of my long, tedious descent with high spirits and encouraging words.

I couldn’t walk on my own, much less down-climb, so the decent was either clipped into a fixed line while leaning on Vic or rappelling. It was slow, slow work.

By 6 p.m., nearly eight hours after the accident, we were only down to 7,500 feet, too high and too close to the mountain for helicopter rescue.

My saviors decided to bivvy for the night and our Mountaineers friends gave us a sleeping pad, a sleeping bag and a bivvy bag. We had planned a one-day ascent and didn’t have overnight gear.

Fortunately, the night was clear. It was cold but not freezing. I was warm in the donated sleeping bag. Vic and Tuney huddled and shivered closed to me.

In the basin far below, Len tried to sleep on a rope near Ingalls Lake. I think he was wearing a T-shirt and shorts as he gave up his warm gear when he left us.

Sunday morning, the Mountaineers returned to set up rappels and I continued my slow descent. At about 10 a.m. we encountered our first Mountain Rescue team member, who explained we needed to get to the basin below by noon. After that, the air might be too warm to provide proper lift for the helicopter.

Two other rescuers arrived around 11 a.m. and helped with my final descent to the talus field below the continuous gully leading to Stuart’s west ridge. The National Guard helicopter “winched” me from a flat-topped boulder and flew me to Wenatchee. Sticking with me to the end, Len, Tuney and Vic picked me up at the hospital that night and drove me back to Seattle.

Considering the lethal potential of the fall, my injuries are nominal: a large slice below my left ankle held together by 16 titanium stitches, a cracked tibia, ugly wounds on my butt and miscellaneous sprains, scrapes and swellings.

Thanks to all my heroes. I am a lucky girl in more ways than one.

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