Rangers race to the rescue
Part 2: A helicopter fights winds, rangers scramble on foot and on ropes, and injured climbers wait and pray in this installment of a three-part serial about a lightning strike last summer that left climbers hurt high in Grand Teton National Park, Wyo.
Late-afternoon shadows were growing on the Tetons when Laurence Perry scanned the looming rock walls.
The helicopter pilot had already completed a test flight to check whether he could hover at 13,000 feet — the altitude where the climbers had been hit by lightning a few hours earlier.
Next up was “short-hauling:” rangers soaring through the skies, suspended by two finger-thin strands of 100-foot nylon rope attached beneath the helicopter.
The chopper’s engine revved in a staging area called the Lower Saddle, elevation 11,600 feet, with Perry in the cockpit and ranger Renny Jackson in back, as his spotter. No one knows these mountains better then Jackson, co-author of a Teton climbing guide.
Leo Larson, a seasoned ranger who cuts a distinctive figure at 6-feet-5 with a long blond ponytail, stood in front of the helicopter, the hauling rope laid out in an elongated “S” at his feet.
“Hook up,” Perry called over his microphone as the chopper hovered.
The chilly mountain air stung Larson’s face. His clothes flapped as he whisked along at up to 50 miles an hour.
Perry watched the granite walls getting ever nearer. But as usual, the British-born pilot displayed confidence and cool.
His life has been the stuff of a Hemingway novel: diving for coral in the Mediterranean, piloting a helicopter to ferry oilmen through the deserts of Yemen and police into the jungles of New Guinea.
Perry has pulled people out of jams, too, when he was rescue pilot for Eco-Challenge, a race that attracts adventure athletes to remote corners of the world.
There’s a motto in his business: “It’s not OUR emergency.” It means don’t rush; take one step at a time.
The chopper approached Friction Pitch, the smooth incline where the climbers had been struck.
Clouds were forming fast below. Perry was worried he’d lose sight of the ground, like a skier in a whiteout. He’d have no idea how close he was to the mountain.
A momentary break in the clouds gave him a glimpse of Rod Liberal, the lone dangling climber. Then he was obscured again.
“Leo, we’re going to have to abort,” Jackson radioed to the ranger below. “This isn’t going to work.”
Perry lowered the lever that decreases the pitch on the blades and began a slow, spiraling descent.
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The helicopter settled back on the Lower Saddle. It was 5:21 p.m. Jackson knew the weather might not clear. It was time to get rangers up by foot.
At 5:36 p.m., ranger Jim Springer took off. Fifteen minutes later, Jack McConnell followed.
McConnell is known as Jack Hammer or Hydraulic Jack, the guy with pistons for legs. He headed out, hauling a 40-pound backpack as he climbed the steep trail, past boulders and through gullies. He soon caught Springer.
Eventually, about 50 rangers would participate in the rescue, along with two helicopters.
Around 6 p.m., Friction Pitch was visible again. Perry could go back up.
It was getting colder in the mountains and the climbers covered a shivering Clinton Summers, Erica”s husband, with extra clothes. His left leg was bloody and purple from the lightning strike.
Now, Clinton just wanted to get down. His wife was gone, and he had to tell their two young children, 2 and 4, their mother would not be coming home.
It was Clinton who had told his friends to stop the CPR.
“We need to get help to Rod,” he said. “We need to focus on the people down below.”
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At 6:09 p.m., Larson became the first ranger atop Friction Pitch.
Larson checked Erica, confirming no pulse. He took an inventory of the others’ injuries to determine who could climb down themselves. Six of the group of 13 eventually did.
Larson asked about Rod:”Is he alive?”
Yes, he groans, the others replied.
Soon, five more rescuers delivered by Perry joined the group crowding the ledge. They decided more help was needed for those injured below — one was bleeding badly.
Dan Burgette, head of the Jenny Lake rangers, started to rappel down about 200 feet to reach them. As he descended, he passed within 15 feet of where Rod was suspended.
“Hang in there,” Burgette shouted. “People up above are setting up ropes.”
This time, there was no response.
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In the gathering gloom below, three climbers waited.
Reagan Lembke wedged his radio between his shoulder and cheekbone but was too weak to hit the talk button. Reagan looked over a boulder to a ledge about 10 feet below. Justin Thomas and Jacob Bancroft were huddled shoulder to shoulder against a rock wall.
Jacob was dazed. He had a hard time remembering things. Justin was bloody from head to toe. Gashes exposed his shin bones.
Bob Thomas, Justin’s father, had joined them by now. He had rappelled down and was trying to keep the climbers alert while waiting for the rangers.
At 6:46 p.m., rangers Jim Springer and Jack McConnell arrived from the Lower Saddle after an incredibly quick climb of less than an hour.
McConnell scrambled to set up anchors among the blood-stained rocks. Springer began checking out the injured climbers and was soon helped by two more rangers who rappelled down from above: Burgette and Chris Harder.
The rescuers determined all three climbers could be taken off the mountain in evacuation suits — nylon vests with diaper-like bottoms hooked to the helicopter’s 100-foot rope.
At 7:24 p.m., Reagan was hooked in. “Get ready for the best ride in the amusement park,” McConnell told him.
Reagan whooped as he rose. Bob Thomas, was next, then his son, Justin, who refused morphine, wanting to be clear-headed on the way down.
At 8:20 p.m, Jacob was ready. He asked Harder, one of the rangers, to shoot his picture before he was lifted off.
Jacob had a swollen, bloody lip but still managed a smile.
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Night was closing in. The climbers at the top were descending — Clinton Summers would be evacuated by helicopter; his wife’s body would be brought down later.
Other rangers were now focusing on Rod.
He was still dangling. And time was running out.