Near Death Experiences (On and Off Topic)

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MisterE

Social climber

Topic Author's Original Post - Aug 21, 2012 - 10:16pm PT

I have had 6.

I know that the stories are scattered around the site, just thought I would bring them together under one topic.

I did some searching, but if Mighty Hiker or others can find the related thread, I will delete.

What's your story/stories?

Reilly

Mountain climber

The Other Monrovia- CA

Aug 21, 2012 - 10:41pm PT

You first!

rottingjohnny

Sport climber

mammoth lakes ca

Aug 21, 2012 - 10:45pm PT

Let's hear about the time you almost tripped with the cat tunnel on your head with 2 fingers saluting...

MisterE

Social climber

Topic Author's Reply - Aug 21, 2012 - 11:16pm PT

The first time: I was 14, and working at my father's fish-tendering plant in Anacortes Washington. The tides in the Guemes Channel are unpredictable and fast. Oil Tankers roll through there, that is how deep it is. Anyway, I had just released a line on one of our fish-tenders, and climbed down the ladder to jump on board. The tide was a LOT faster than I anticipated, and I missed the boat (quite literally).

I bounced off the rail, and hit my head on the ladder, and was out cold in the 40 degree water and a strong tide.

My mother dove in and hauled my ass back to the ladder and held me there until my dad could get the boat close enough to have the other deckhand (my friend Ted) climb down and assist with the rescue.

Edit: We both could have been crushed between the pier and the boat - thanks Mom

donini

Trad climber

Ouray, Colorado

Aug 21, 2012 - 11:18pm PT

Well I went to a climbing slide show the other night and......

MisterE

Social climber

Topic Author's Reply - Aug 21, 2012 - 11:21pm PT

#2: I was again working on a fish tender, this time in Alaska.

As well as #3.

#4 was crabbing off the coast of the Fairweather Range.

I'll wait.

Anyone else?

PAUL SOUZA

Trad climber

Central Valley, CA

Aug 21, 2012 - 11:46pm PT

When I was 14, my friends and I were held at gunpoint for our Halloween candy. One guy had a black semi-auto pistol and the other had a rifle.

Reilly

Mountain climber

The Other Monrovia- CA

Aug 22, 2012 - 12:13am PT

1. I fell off of a really tall slide at the park when I was about 4 and landed
on my head. I don't know if it almost killed me but look at me now!

2. Mean streets of Chicago - Dood waving a gun inches from my nose. If
you've seen my nose you know it wasn't that close to the rest of my face
but I was afraid he was gonna hit my nose with his trigger finger.

splitter

Trad climber

Hodad, surfing the galactic plane

Aug 22, 2012 - 01:13am PT

Jaybro -- many of us here in cali got ya beat when it comes to surviving ronnie & gained valuble survival skills in the process under his gubernatorial years prior to his presidency. close calls, indeed! ya havta look at it in a positive light, they prepare ya for what's to come...cud get worse yet, eh? lol

Jaybro

Social climber

Wolf City, Wyoming

Aug 22, 2012 - 01:23am PT

I lived through the Reagan administration. It was close for all of us.

MisterE

Social climber

Topic Author's Reply - Aug 22, 2012 - 01:30am PT

Nice! No "Cat tried to kill me" stories yet!

#2: I was 18 and tendering fish out of Sitka, Alaska on one of my step-father's boats (the PNW fish industry had gone kaput at this point, and he was now leasing boats to Alaska processing plants) and just finished visiting with some friends on another tender. The docks had these central pilings that allowed more boats to dock on either side (which was unfamiliar to me), and I was walking backwards, waving good-bye to them when I fell into one of the piling holes.

I came up pounding at the white styrofoam floatation blocks, underwater (obviously), in a complete panic state: no sense of direction, bitter cold water, and no air. I cast about for as long as I can remember, then passed out. I was saved by the captain of the boat I was visiting who, once again, dived into the frigid water to drag my ass out of the ocean.

Daphne

Trad climber

Black Rock City

Aug 22, 2012 - 01:49am PT

I've been reading Anita Moorjani's book Dying to be Me. Its all about her nde. I dont think it is what you are meaning on this thread, but i cant help but mention it. I find it powerful and inspiring. Also been checking out this site:
http://www.nderf.org/NDERF/NDE_Archives/archives_First_half_2010.htm

john hansen

climber

Aug 22, 2012 - 01:59am PT

Mister E, you are a lucky man.

Gunkie

Trad climber

East Coast US

Aug 22, 2012 - 08:27am PT

Crazy ex-girlfriend stalked me for a couple of years. Sent black roses with the heads cutoff to me more than once. Found her in the bushes next to my parked car while leaving a bar with a newer girlfriend. I thought I'd be half of a double homicide. Had to get the justice system involved after that incident.

I could have easily been another Jack Mileski.

Don Paul

Big Wall climber

Colombia, South America

Aug 22, 2012 - 09:02am PT

Was soloing Snake Dike, and got off route about 200 feet up. You are climbing on this rock feature, a dike that goes for hundreds of feet, then you have to traverse over to another dike and continue up the route. I forgot the traverse and climbed the dike I was on for another 100 feet or so until it just disappeared, Next thing I knew, I was on a blank face breaking off flakes left and right. This can't be right ... then I looked down and remembered the traverse. I had to downclimb a really long way, the only time I've had to do something like that, and was totally gripped with fear afterwards.

The traverse was protected by a bolt, only 5.7 but an insecure friction move. I was so amped up from downclimbing, when I made the move, it was like I was in a dream watching myself do it. My memory of the traverse is a memory as if I were observing myself from outside. This is how my brain recorded this incident, as a kind of out of body experience. It's weird but I can still see myself doing the move.

MisterE

Social climber

Topic Author's Reply - Aug 22, 2012 - 10:10am PT

Cool story, Don - trippy. Thanks for the link Daphne, interesting stuff.

#3: So, the next year, I was off of my Step-father's tender, but got a gig on another boat out of Seattle. The owner's son was on board and we didn't get along very well (this is relevant to #4). I ended up in the fish-hold A LOT, installing wooden hold-dividers (so the load didn't shift), unloading, cleaning the hold, firstly because I was the "new guy" and also because he didn't like me. I got through the season OK, mostly because I stayed in my bunk reading all summer when we weren't working and out of the way of the owner's son (which isn't an easy thing to do on a 65-foot boat). Towards the end of the summer, the tensions were getting higher, and we were really busy. We were pushing for our broom on the mast, which signifies that your boat got one million pounds from the grounds to the plant, and we were in competition with another tender for the "first broom".
Well, we were on our second delivery in three days with a full fish-hold, and were all pretty exhausted by the time we finished unloading. It was my job to clean out the fish-hold after unloading, but I really needed a bathroom break after the non-stop unloading process. I climbed up the ladder with my slimy gloves still on, grabbed the lip of the fish-hold,pulled myself up over the edge and was just about to swing my feet over when both hands popped off...

I remember to this day that it all seemed to happened in slow-motion in my brain. It really couldn't have taken long since the bottom of the hold was only 20 feet away. I pitched over backwards and looked down. In a split-second, I knew what was going to happen. There were these refrigerated circulation pipes that were 4" around and mounted about another 4" off the bottom of the deck. These were held in place by huge stainless steel clamps, mounted to the bottom of the fish-hold. My lower spine was headed directly towards one of those steel clamps.
With everything I had, I twisted my body sideways, and as I hit the clamp, and felt it dig into my side, I did the only possible thing that would save my sorry ass: I relaxed into it, fully realizing that this might be the end. That is all I remember, until I woke up in my bunk, with an ice-pack on my side and a very concerned Skipper standing over me. I had a HUGE bruise on my side, and clearly needed medical attention, so he took me to one of the larger boats, where I was picked up by helicopter and taken back to Sitka.
In the end, it was just a lot of bruising, and some shook-up internal organs. I was right about my assessment of where the pipe was going to hit, that little twist-and-relax I did landed the brace just above my hip, and just below my ribs. Not a broken bone one. I was back to work within 5 days, albeit on limited work-load and I was fine in two weeks.

Norwegian

Trad climber

Placerville, California

Aug 22, 2012 - 10:25am PT

i was sitting in my cabin one april
morning, doing nothing particularly dangerous or exciting;
just watching the snow flakes drift about
and eating a bowl of oatmeal,

suddenly, boom. really loud crash over my head,
and the entire cabin shaking with verve,
the hot stove pipe rockets to the ground 3' behind me
and soot explodes all over.

i cower low because im really a scared little boy,
and when the 10.0 quake ceases,
i jump up from my chair and bolt out the door,
to witness this:

then after a little cleanup, she still stands, though with a limp

Grampa

climber

from SoCal

Aug 22, 2012 - 10:35am PT

Obviously, fishing is very dangerous. Stick with something safe, like climbing.

My best story occurred at Tahquitz when I was about 16. My idiot partner, 100 feet above me in a steep section, knocked a rock off the size of a cantaloupe, ROCK!!!! I am locked into a small ledge belaying so I cannot jump or move. The rock is headed right at me. The brain computes real fast when it needs to and I determine the rock will bounce above me and impact dead center of my chest.

I did not experience my "life flashing before my eyes", but I did see an image of my parents (only child) and a deep sadness that I really screwed up and was going to let them down.

Well God had other plans that day because the rock bounced about 10 feet above me, split in two and the pieces went on both sides of me. I turned and looked down the rock watching the pieces bounce all the way to the bottom.

True story, my partner saw the whole thing.

kaholatingtong

Trad climber

the green triangle, cali

Aug 22, 2012 - 01:36pm PT

so i was in this car accident a few weeks ago, i dont like talking about many of the details but let me simplify it by saying that i am really glad the japanese truck i was driving was built in such a way that the engine took a large majority of the impact when i crashed high speed into a pine tree. regardless the impact drove the pine tree all the way through the front of the car and engine through through the windshield enough that i had a serious laceration on the underside of my chin ( among many other injuries i dont need to go into) that was inches from cutting something very important. and, once again glad the engine compacted properly and didnt just take me in half on the spot, which i have been told is a problem at those speeds.

limpingcrab

Trad climber

the middle of CA

Aug 22, 2012 - 01:53pm PT

These experiences are a running joke in my family, so I have several, but the scariest one was surfing.

My wife and I went on a mission trip to Fiji and stayed afterwards to surf. First day I was taken to a spot called "desperation" a few miles out in the ocean. It's called that because it breaks in a U-shape onto a reef so you don't want to be inside.

Very first wave was outside and had a 10-12 ft face. I realize I was out of my league right as it breaks 6 inches in front of my face, smashed the board into the side of my head, tears it from my hands and breaks the leash.

Next thing I know I'm dizzy and there's reef cutting my feet apart. It's such a sucky spot that the people and boats just yell "get out of there" but nobody will get near. A guy from a boat throws a rope but then pulls it and leaves to avoid another set.

I can't swim in the foam and there's no board or suit to help me float, so I just thrash around and wonder "does my wife have to wait for our pre-booked flight to take my body home, or are there special planes and tickets for dead bodies?"

Eventually one person finally sacrifices a board by sending it in to me, luckily I get it and get myself out.

It's not as close of a call as MisterE stories, but it felt like it.

Getting electrocuted in the head when I was 16 wasn't fun either.

mouse from merced

Trad climber

merced, california

Aug 22, 2012 - 01:58pm PT

Not to quibble, and not to deny anyone's tales of terror, but I just looked at "near-death experiences" onthe net.

From Wiki we get "NDE refers to a broad range of personal experiences associated with impending death, encompassing multiple possible sensations, including detachment from the body; feelings of levitation; extreme fear; total serenity, security, or warmth; the experience of total dissolution; and the presence of a light."

It usually involves a pronouncement of clinical death.

So...

Never happened to me yet.

I did get to pull my brother-in-law up from the bottom after he got conked by his surfboard when an outside wave ruined our afternoon. He was semi-conscious, though.

limpingcrab

Trad climber

the middle of CA

Aug 22, 2012 - 02:04pm PT

Sounds like Ron's had some extreme fear followed by levitation

nutjob

Gym climber

Berkeley, CA

Aug 22, 2012 - 02:18pm PT

I've just read a few so far, but damn Ron did you need a clean pair of underwear? Maybe you were too busy trying to figure stuff out to have time to fill the trousers?

zBrown

Ice climber

chingadero de chula vista

Aug 22, 2012 - 02:43pm PT

and the presence of a light

Or the absence?

My sister died in her bed at night from a heart attack.

So, one night about 20 years ago in the middle of the night I went into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet. Quite suddenly everything began to go very dark black and I thought to myself "man this is exactly what happened to Diane, but there so much I never got to do". I slipped over onto the floor and proned out and gradually the world came back into focus.

Mentioned the episode to my doctor a while later and he informed me that it was vasovagal syncope and it's pretty common.

All in all, I guess I didn't have a near death experience, just a feeling of being near death experience.

Reilly

Mountain climber

The Other Monrovia- CA

Aug 22, 2012 - 02:48pm PT

Mr E, move to Kansas, please. Oh, wait, you're already in the Valley; you're good there.

Ron A, what planet was yer pilot from? Anybody from this planet coulda
told you that shizz was gonna happen! Especially anybody who has tried
to scatter ashes from a plane. :-)

splitter

Trad climber

Hodad, surfing the galactic plane

Aug 22, 2012 - 03:44pm PT

here is an example of a real n00b mistake that nearly cost me my life!!

around 1990 the starter went out in my half ton chevie van. i bought a new one and was going to switch it myself, and did. i lay down in front and tried to scoot back towards the starter but my head would not fit under the front axle (twin I beam) so i had to go to the side of the van and go under that way. i finished switching them, and as an after thought i notice this linkage to my transmission an wiggle it a little because i notice it is loose. all of a sudden i hear this klunk. i lived at the top of this grade/hill and suddenly the van starts rolling with me under it. I grab a hold of the exhaust pipe and try and stop it from rolling. it starts moving faster.I had to wrap my legs around the pipe/muffler the best i could cause if i let go the axle would hit my head and crush it.

the next thing i know i am rolling down the street picking up speed hanging onto the bottom of my dang van. pretty soon i am hauling ass headed toward this really busy street/inner-section. i must have been going 30-35 miles an hour or faster and picking up speed. i started yelling at the top of my lungs "HEEEEEELLLLLPPP" but there was no one to hear me. i had to do something. i was either going to crash into cars going 45-50 miles an hour or into a building on the other side of the damn street/intersection. i new if i waited to long i would exceed 45mi an hour because i use to get it going that fast trying to jump start it (automatic) but i new if i let go the axle would crush my head.

i didn't know what to do, i just couldn't makeup my mind. i had a death grip on that muffler/exhaust pipe. then i did the only thing i could think of doing under the circumstances cuz i didn't know what the hell to do, I yelled out "Jesus, please help me" (LOUD) instantly, my hold was ripped off the muffler, and my head twisted/jerked to the side to give it a flatter angle. the next thing i know i was seeing stars for a fraction of a second and i came to screaming at the top of my lungs "AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" my head had made it under the axle (had two big ol bumps the size of ping pong balls on either side of it that were bleeding big time though) but the pain i was screaming about as i came to was my left hip pinned by the axle that was dragging against the blacktop.

i was drug tell it actually stopped my van. there was a hole in my levis and underwear and the meat on my hip was ground down to the bone. i just lay there as the van came to a stop. i wiggled a little and the van popped off my hip and slowly starting rolling again. i didn't even know if anything was broken because the pain was so intense, but suddenly and instinctively hopped up and started running beside the van and opened the door and then i had to run as fast as i could down towards the tail of the van turn around and as it passed jump in and hit the brakes.

i was evidently in shock because i felt very weird/light headed & qweezy, etc.! but i drove to the hospital and they told me i was white as a ghost. they did a cat scan of my brain and hip and kept me overnight for observation/and to watch for swelling of the brain. i was okay though. i was very lucky.

Sierra Ledge Rat

Mountain climber

Old and Broken Down in Appalachia

Aug 22, 2012 - 03:56pm PT

If I was a cat then I'd have been killed a long time ago. But I seem to have more than 9 lives.

My friends say that the injury that ended my rock-climbing career was the injury that saved my life. My old climbing partners didn't think that I was going to live for very long if I continued to climb as hardcore as I was doing BITD.

frank wyman

Mountain climber

helena montana

Aug 22, 2012 - 04:25pm PT

Having survived four helicopter crashes, some with fatalitys, we always had the attitude of "You think I'm F%#ked up you should see the other guys" The one that stands out most is when we did not crash but dipped in and out of the water for miles durring a storm in Alaska, I think I got what they call "Gallows humor" as we were making jokes and laughing all the time. No 15-minute suits and miles from shore. Once we landed the pilot quit and we drank ourselves stupid...

HighTraverse

Trad climber

Bay Area

Aug 22, 2012 - 07:49pm PT

whooooo man.
I couldn't think of any NDE's for me until zBrown's post.
That vasovagal response...from venipuncture......gives you enough time to really believe yer gunna die!
it was like fainting, but it consumed my entire body except my consciousness. I watched myself collapse and then watched myself recover.

It's very seldom a fatal condition......fortunately. And I've never experienced it again.

WBraun

climber

Aug 22, 2012 - 07:50pm PT

Everyone dies every day.

You're not the same person as yesterday ......

Sredni Vashtar

Social climber

LA CA via UK

Aug 22, 2012 - 07:52pm PT

my dad (as witnessed by all of us at the breakfast table) had a great one.
He is old school and leaves his (manual geared) car in 1st gear when its parked, its an old habit he has and he always does it. his car is parked behind my mums new car and they are both
behind some wrought iron gates. so he gets into his car for work, realises he needs something from the boot/trunk and gets out to go get it. gets back in and forgets he hasnt put the car
in neutral. infact he isnt fully in car when he turns the key, hes half in talking to his neighbour. his car jumps forward and the V6 pushes both cars through the gates and beyond at a good rate of knots, as his door hits the gate it pins him under
the car and both cars head towards the water filled ditch on the other side of the road. the neighbour starst chasing the car as at this point my dad is holding onto the door sill but his legs are under the car. there are only two trees spaced about 15 yards apart that would stop him hitting the ditch and each car finds one.
lucky for him but he is still under the car the wheels are spinning. the neighbour pulls hims
clear and he is fine, the pager/beeper he wore on his right hip was a mess but it saved his hip.
such a lucky escape.

stupid fker then repeated it a month later too, only this time the gates held and my mums car had to go back to the bodyshop

MisterE

Social climber

Topic Author's Reply - Aug 22, 2012 - 08:49pm PT

Great stories! Reilly, yeah I feel pretty safe in the valley...NOT! ;) That is crazy, Splitter - thanks for the story.

#4: Bat-shit Crazy Skipper.

So the next year I sign up on the same boat (the pay was pretty good for tendering), and on the trip up the Inside Passage, it becomes clear to me that this owner's son is really going to give it to me this year. I decide when we get to Sitka to bail, but now I am in Alaska and have no job. Being pretty experienced, I hit the docks and start asking for work. Nothing. Days go by, and I am running out of money, when I finally find a dungeness crab fisherman that will take me on as crew. I load up the bait, water-tank and the rest of the crab-pots while he goes grocery shopping. He is back surprisingly fast, but I think nothing of it as we finish loading. Pretty soom we are on our way. The crabbing spot is just outside of Lituya Bay, at the base of the Fairweather range of mountains, a stunning setting which blew my mind. We run into Lituya Bay, drop anchor, and I look in the cooler. He has bought 1 ham, 2 loaves of bread,a jar of peanut butter and a jar of mustard for a two-week trip. I ask him where the rest of the food is, and he says "That's it! But we will be eating crab and shrimp as well." I also see a gallon of bleach. As we are running out to the grounds, I go through the cupboards, hoping to find something else food-wise. Nothing.

As soon as we leave the dock, he demands that I start baiting the pots. I am starting to get worried. A few days go by, running the pots in the surf, and I gradually realize this guy is a psycho. He only communicates by yelling, a complete change from the Skipper at the dock, and he never lets me stop working from dawn until dusk. We get up early, pull the shrimp pots in the bay for that night's meal, have a peanut butter sandwich with water only, then out of the bay into the ocean where the rest of the day is battling the surf and sanded-in pots. It is hell. The boat is rolling, he is constantly screaming, and there is never a break until dusk. Pulling the sanded-in pots is a terrifying experience. The line is jumping in the hauler, threatening to break every moment, and I am hanging on for dear life as the surf pounds over us. There was very few crab, but we had to run the pots constantly because the surf was burying them. Stack pots, lash them down, finish the line, re-bait, and re-set. Day in and day out. After 6 days we run out of water, and I find out what the bleach is for. We go to one corner of the bay where he noses the bow against the rocks where there is a small stream of water and hands me a hose and a funnel saying "This is where we fill the water tank, it takes a couple of hours", then disappears below deck. I stand there for 2 hours diverting this trickle into our deck-hole. He comes back out with the bottle of bleach, and dumps half of it into the tank. I explode: "What the hell are you doing to our water?" He responds: "This will purify it so we don't get sick."

Things deteriorate from there over the next few days, and pretty soon we hate each other, but he refuses to go back to Sitka. We work glaring at each other, he yells and I am sullen. I can smell bleach on my skin, and am sick of peanut butter and ham. He said we could have some crab initially, but the crabbing is so bad, he won't waste any of the "profit" on food for us.

On day 12, I am stacking a pot 4 high on the back deck after a particularly bad yelling match, when he swerves the boat int a wave, and I go overboard in full rain-gear and boots. The water is probably 36-38 degrees, it takes my breath away. I pop to the surface, yelling and waving at him. He looks directly at me, gives this maniacal grin...and guns the engine away from me. I realize what is happening, and swim for all I am worth towards the boat. At the very last moment, I got lucky. One of the bumpers for hauling the pots had come untied, and one end was dragging in the water, with a loop of rope running a few feet behind it. I grabbed that rope like a madman and hauled myself aboard the still-accelerating boat. As I pulled myself onto the deck, he came to the wheelhouse door, saw me, and a completely astonished look came over his face, then he disappeared back inside. I was so frightened of him, I didn't say another word the rest of the two-day period, but he seemed to give me some grudging respect. It didn't matter, I was seething inside, but also really afraid.

When we got back to Sitka and unloaded, I said: " I want my crew share NOW." He told me to wait and he would go get it, but there was no way. I followed him to the bank, and stood with him the whole time, my stuff ready to go. He paid me, I told him I would never work for him again and went to the nearest bar to get smashed. When I was good and drunk, I started talking to some other fishermen, one of whom said:
"You went out with that lunatic? Everyone knows not to hand with him - you should ask around next time before you crew on an unknown boat!"

Lesson learned. I still went back to Alaska for 2 more years black-cod and halibut fishing.

MisterE

Social climber

Topic Author's Reply - Aug 23, 2012 - 12:17am PT

Alright, the run is over it looks like, the last response was deleted - might as well wrap it up and be done.

#5: I decided i wanted to aid climb in bad rock, and I was fortunate enough to be living in Eastern Oregon. I had walked by "Toes of the Fisherman" many times on my regular forays to Wortley's Revenge, which I had wired to 4 pieces of gear. I thought, in my unconceiving mind, that aiding a rarely-done 5.13 that overhangs 20 feet in the first 35 feet, was a good idea.
Plus there was this nice slab below in the sun to lay out all my gear and look cool as the folks walk by me on their way to points West. I have a new rope, a 10mm, and I fix that to a solo static anchor below the chill spot. I am Bad, nobody ever get's on this thing and I got a shiteree of gear laid out on the slab for all to see.
As I begin to aid up the overhang, I start to understand that the elements may not be in my favor: Static anchor, going as horizontal as vertical on solo-aid, but the fire of n00b enthusiasm consumed me.

So much so, that I was clipping above me as I moved past a bomber #8 chouinard placement.
Sadly, it was my first effort with my new Lowe-Balls, and I hadn't yet learned that you cannot shift on these things!
I learned fast as I ripped that and a blue tcu - from 30 feet out onto a fixed belay with a modified Gri-Gri.

I welded the #8, and found myself splayed out from my harness rope-catch. I rocked just a little forward and my feet touched the slab that I had so proudly laid my gear out on.

I twisted sideways, and saw that the point of the rock was no more than a foot away from the direct line of my lower back.
With rope stretch, well...there wasn't much rope out, thankfully for me, but bad for the rope.

Did I think about the other lower back close call? You bet your ass I did.

(Edited: Found a better written version of that story - thanks Survival)

#6 is the craziest. I was installing a climbing gym for an Oregon gym-wall company - at Long Beach - and bouldering late at night in a nice corner. Up and down, up and down. Hard gym floor beneath me, no-one else around. I get 20 feet up, and shake out my legs, one then the other. As I am shaking out the second, fully weighting my arms, the right hold spins and I am off backwards - a back-flip head-first plummet to the hardwood floor below. I am sure, yet again that this is the end. Bear in mind: a backwards flip with good feet, where the hand-holds fail. Sounds like a severe push away from the wall, right? However, there are these holes in the wall - big ones - for circular inserts that you can turn for varying features (not installed yet), and when I come to (not dead), both knees are locked in one of these holes, I am upside down 6 feet from the ground. Bruises on the back of the knees for a months, but yet again, otherwise uninjured.

This one really baffled me every time I thought about the natural route of projection. I felt I must have had a push BACK into the wall from something, someone to catch that last hole and save my sorry ass yet again.

Grandma once told me I have a guardian angel looking over me, I actually started to believe it after this one.

OK, I am done - hope I provided some entertainment for some folks.

Keep it going if you like, or not. Hope you all don't mind the recollections - once they started, I had to keep going. Just one of those flood-of-memories things.

Cheers, Erik

Sierra Ledge Rat

Mountain climber

Old and Broken Down in Appalachia

Aug 23, 2012 - 02:59am PT

My very first "real" lead
Early 1970s
Huntington Ravine
High on the route
Placed a #3 wired and went for it
Big run out
Oops, fell
Entire pitch zippered
Except for that #3 wired
My belayer caught me
When I stopped
I was upside down
Only 5 feet above the ground

Sierra Ledge Rat

Mountain climber

Old and Broken Down in Appalachia

Aug 23, 2012 - 03:23am PT

After climbing El Cap and sleeping on top, we decided to descend the canyon east of El Cap instead of rapping off the East Ledges (BIG MISTAKE).

I was walking on a carpet of moss on granite slabs along the top of a big cliff. The moss cut loose, like a giant carpet sliding down a steep granite slab. This carpet of moss and I went flying off the edge of the cliff and I found myself in free fall down a 100+ foot cliff.

The big carpet of moss landed on a small ledge about 40 feet down from the top and started piling up on the ledge in great folds.

I followed, and landed on my back in a great, soft pile of moss - uninjured.

Studly

Trad climber

Aug 23, 2012 - 03:28am PT

Chair Peak, the NE buttress back in the late 70's. It had been a heavy snow pack, and it was early Spring. I was leading, party of 3. I had just climbed a rock rib and then traversed into the couloir that takes you up when I heard a rumble above me that did not sound good, so I zipped out of the gully and a big avalanche came down, completely filling the gully as it went by, and spilling onto the rock rib I made it to and just missing me by a couple feet. I would have been toast. After the avy, I figured it was safe and we climbed up and found that it had been started by a couple of other climbers who had come up a different way and their steps had started the slide down our way. Yikes.

Sierra Ledge Rat

Mountain climber

Old and Broken Down in Appalachia

Aug 23, 2012 - 03:29am PT

Roped big-wall solo of the Leaning Tower in winter.

3rd night, in a hammock in a winter storm - accidentally dropped all of my bivy gear. I thought I was going to die that night, but a "Third Man" experience kept me alive.

Managed to top off the next day before a really big storm hit.

While I licked my wounds in Camp 4 that night, another solo big wall climber David Kays froze to death on El Cap.

Sierra Ledge Rat

Mountain climber

Old and Broken Down in Appalachia

Aug 23, 2012 - 03:36am PT

I have a dozen or more other stories like these

"There's a fine line between bravery and foolishness."

When you decided to push it, are you being brave or foolish? Only time will tell.

survival

Big Wall climber

Terrapin Station

Aug 23, 2012 - 09:35am PT

Here you go Mr.E, try a few of these on!
The Werner Helicopter story is great......
http://www.supertopo.com/climbing/thread.php?topic_id=500604&msg=1857230#msg1857230

mitchy

Trad climber

new england

Aug 23, 2012 - 10:59am PT

My buddy and i were coming home from buying some weed one night and as i parked my car, two guys pulled up and got out of their car and pulled a gun on my buddy, sawed off shotgun. I was on the drivers side and had to walk around the front of the car where the guy with the gun was now poiting it at my face. He said gimme your money, with his hand held out. So, as i stepped toward him i was leaning left and right and as i leaned he pointed the friggin' gun at my face. The most scared i've ever been. coulda gotten killed over fifty bucks.

FinnMaCoul

Trad climber

Green Mountains, Vermont

Aug 23, 2012 - 11:06am PT

Mid 80's... typical 60mph dense moving traffic snarl on 4 lane I-95 north of Boston. Traffic is moving but it is typical Boston driving, fast and tight as hell. I'm heading to see my girlfriend in my '72 Chevy Nova SS traveling in the 2nd lane from the right. It is pouring rain. Looking back I'm quite sure my tires were bald as all get out.

My exit is coming up and I signal and angle to slide into the far right lane. I start to hydroplane, the nose of the car angled to the right as I cut through traffic in the far right lane, sliding smoothly diagonally for the shoulder. I'm turning the wheel hard to the left trying to get straight when I come out of the puddle. My rear end fishtails me perpendicular to traffic and I shoot across ALL FOUR lanes of dense traffic with me cutting the wheel hard right.

I hit the shoulder of the passing lane, fishtail my rear end up into the median and promptly shoot BACK again perpendicular through the traffic. Within seconds, somehow, I'm back in my original lane going straight exactly between the two cars I'd started out between.

I look to my left and can't even see a hole in the traffic that I might have slipped through. It's wall to wall cars in all four lanes.

A driver in the lane to my left is staring at me slack jawed and sick looking. He just shakes his head. It should have been a gruesome 20 car pileup with multiple traumas.

I signal for the lane change, slide into the right lane and take my exit. Find a place to safely park and wait until I stop shaking and hyperventilating. I'm sure I wasn't the only one on that little stretch of road that day that couldn't believe they didn't just wreck at 60mph.

Reilly

Mountain climber

The Other Monrovia- CA

Aug 23, 2012 - 11:30am PT

Mister E, you crazy bra! You must be some kinda peacenik not to have assaulted
the skipper.

OK, as embarrassing as it is, here's like my second post on SuperTopo;
I think it qualifies as nearly death:

The Thread of Life

tallguy

Trad climber

eastside

Aug 23, 2012 - 12:43pm PT

Had a few, but one particularly memorable one was surfing..

At 4-mile, N. of Santa Cruz on a rapidly dropping tide and rapidly rising winter swell one January. Too inexperienced to know better at that point. It quickly got scary big, and I am paddling farther and farther out trying to stay outside of the sets. A small group of us is now way outside the cove, with me at least 50 yards further out looking for safety and wondering how I am going to get back to shore. It's really big.

If you surf, you know it well. The sea darkens in a strange way way outside; much, much further out than anything we've seen so far that day. A scary sort of dark that grows and grows, and gives you lots of time to panic. I put my head down and head straight out as fast as I can as the mother of all clean-up sets swings toward shore. I almost made it.

I felt the lip of the first wave hit the back of my legs, took my board and rag dolled me for awhile, as did the next few. I had said goodbye at that point. For those of you who know the area, that first wave closed out the entire cove of 4-mile, starting well to the north of the cove, and most of 3-mile in a single simulataneous closeout, according to those on shore. Probably over a mile wide. Way, way big, and many hundreds of yards further out than the normal lineup.

The waves weren't actually so bad, I learned to relax there. But the long swim in almost got me, the currents were bad and I just made it out onto the rocks near three mile before the current swept me way back out. Hacked up alot of water and barely had the strength to crawl up on the beach, where I lay for quite some time. Too close.

Gunkie

Trad climber

East Coast US

Aug 23, 2012 - 01:11pm PT

If you surf, you know it well. The sea darkens in a strange way way outside; much, much further out than anything we've seen so far that day. A scary sort of dark that grows and grows, and gives you lots of time to panic.

I know that feeling. However, there are plenty of spots that will put you inside on big sets before you even know they're coming (e.g. Blacks). Maybe that's a more humane surf spot ;) The canyon sets happen so fast at Blacks that I just kook-out and dive for the bottom if I'm sitting inside of the peak, particularly north peak. But if I'm toward a shoulder, I paddle north or south until (1) I clear it just to see the next, bigger wave feathering or (2) get steamrolled sideways and then hog tied by the leash while the board batters me about the head. Either scenario is always 'go get a beer' fodder.

StahlBro

Trad climber

San Diego, CA

Aug 23, 2012 - 01:24pm PT

I had two epic beat-down, hold-down's surfing. One in South Laguna and the other at Makapu'u in Hawai'i. Both times I was out when huge cleanup sets rolled in and there was nowhere to hide. Swam to the bottom but got sucked over the falls and hammered repeatedly. Pretty much figured that was it on both because I couldn't hold by breath much longer. Managed to get outside and recover enough to wait for a smaller set to ride close enough to shore to desperately claw onto the beach and pretty much pass out.

A friend of mine got off route and botched the belay on the 3rd? pitch of Lucky Streaks. There were 4 of us, and when I got to his belay (hanging) I was horrified. There were several opposing small wires behind some sh*tty flakes. I really couldn't understand how it was even holding his weight. I had cleaned the pitch, so there was nothing but a trail rope down to the last belay where my bro and another friend were waiting. I went into pure survival mode and switched ends of rope with the the guy at the belay, told him to give his gear (with a look in my eye he remembered for a while). I told the folks below to put him on belay. They said "WTF?", but there really wasn't a lot of time to explain. I took off and and got back on route. The first few placements were a little weak and there were some 5.9 moves to get through, but I finally got into the bomber crack. Most focused I have ever been climbing. When we were all together at the top, my bro just looked at me and said "Holy Sh*t!!!" I had tied the guy at the botched belay off, and my bother had climbed to the real belay and looked over to where the other dude was "hanging".

I barn-doored soloing the lower Right Ski Track in JT. I was in the little dihedral before turning the roof and the smear for my left foot crumbled a bit. As I swung out I figured I was done, but somehow I stopped before my fingers popped out of the crack. I sat on the ledge above and whimpered for about a half hour before going to the top.

mouse from merced

Trad climber

merced, california

Aug 23, 2012 - 01:41pm PT

Reilly's fairy was certainly watching over him that day. (I just finished watching Finding Neverland, so...)

Dannion Brinkley is an "interesting" case of NDE. A doctor, Raymond Moody, is also, like Brinkley, a researcher in the subject and coined the term, in fact.

When I sold these books (and they were good sellers, by the way) of theirs, Saved by the Light and Life After Life, I had to choke back the scorn. I have changed. It is not that it is verboten to laugh at the genre and those who read it with more faith than I would, (if I bothered to read any New Age books), but I realize I should have a little concern for others' feelings. They could be mourning a lost loved one and seeking some solace. Or they could be seriously seeking answers to life's mysterious questions.

It's perfectly all right to make mock of the genre, but leave the seekers out of it. Is this a cool way to be? Or are we all gonna die...

and come back?

John Duffield

Mountain climber

New York

Aug 23, 2012 - 03:01pm PT

Where to begin with this? I was drafted into the Vietnam War and was in the WTC 9/11. I SCUBA dive, extreme ski, Cycle the streets of NYC near daily, etc etc.

Saw this video this morning, put me in mind of something long ago...

http://www.aol.com/video/a-man-falls-overboard-with-a-running-chainsaw/517421054/?icid=maing-grid10%7Chtmlws-main-bb%7Cdl38%7Csec1_lnk3%26pLid%3D196100

I'd bought a 200 yo house in New Hampshire.

I hadn't closed on it yet, but summer was on the run, it had holes in the roof and three branches on a tree growing onto the roof that had to be removed before I did the roof. In fact, I had figured out how to get into the house and was spending weekends there.

I borrowed a chainsaw and a 40 foot extension ladder. Like most things you borrow, the chaninsaw was f*#ked. It wouldn't idle. Had to be kept running full blast or would shut off.

The lower two branches, were relatively easy. The upper one required the ladder (13 meters) be tied straight up to the tree, standing against the tree on the top rung, stretch up and back hand the branch. Couldn't start the saw on the ladder, had to start it on the ground, climb the vertical ladder straight up the tree with the saw running full bore all the way. Bolo'd it a few times and finally got it right. Branch came down, took me and the running saw straight off the ladder.

mouse from merced

Trad climber

merced, california

Aug 23, 2012 - 07:02pm PT

Three guys died and were taken to the top of a cliff by Himself, who informed them they'd led such exemplary lives on earth that they were free to choose what they would like to become.

Number one ran to the cliff edge, sprang into the air shouting, "I want to be an eagle." His wish was granted and he flew off.

Number two ran to the cliff edge, yelling he is going to be an owl. He flapped happily off into the sunset, too.

Number three ran to the cliff edge, tripped on a stone, and yelled, "Ah, sh#t..."

"I'm not afraid of death. I just don't want to be there when it happens."
---Woody Allen

justthemaid

climber

Jim Henson's Basement

Aug 23, 2012 - 07:48pm PT

Great stories.

The sea.. in particular.. is a frightening place to be when things go drastically wrong. As a kid... I got blown out to sea by a sudden violent storm in the Sea of Cortez on my kayak and had to spend hours paddling/tacking through white-caps to reach some land to wait it out. I didn't have a life-vest and the possibility of being tossed into the sea was real.

... oh.. and I totally guggli-mucchied my very first rappel. I'd only been climbing a couple of months. Tried to do a two-rope rappel with one 60m. Rapped off the ends onto a small ledge 100 feet above the ground and 15 feet above a mid-anchor. Had no clue how to ascend a rope. Partner couldn't hear me. Got freaked. Ended up solo down-climbing to the anchor. Totally thought I was going to die.

John Duffield

Mountain climber

New York

Aug 23, 2012 - 08:22pm PT

Water is very unforgiving.

No doubt about it.

Here's an incident, basically going on in real time. He flies out tomorrow.

http://www.scubaboard.com/forums/accidents-incidents/431107-bent-belize.html

I used a visual reference, stayed atwhat I thought was 30 feet, and assumed a 10 minute deco stop. (that's three untrained decompression dives in one day.) I was down for about an hour again (the second dive was about an hour too) and surfaced with 600 psi. I did note that the borrowed computer (which had been on three wrists today) said nothing about deco. I could read it clearly from about 15 feet above it. I had trouble peeing in the ocean. Ten years of drysuit training is hard to break out of, but I managed a little. I wasn't running too dry.

On the way back, we rinsed off, turned in our gear, and dried off. I was shivering.

Remember the part where I'm Canadian and I dive in 50F? I don't shiver in the water. I don't shiver after polar bear swims.

We were given pina coladas by the crew. Now, I don't usually drink and I didn't get lunch, so I got hit hard and fast. I was the first to say “Tip! It should be $5 a tank!”so I got more drinks. I commented a few times that I couldn't feel my lips and the ends of my hands were numb too.

I was too drunk to notice the problem. The crew didn't hear me and the rest of the cattle boat was not experienced enough to realize the problem.

nutjob

Gym climber

Berkeley, CA

Aug 23, 2012 - 08:25pm PT

This thread is awesome!

Really short stories of using up my 9 lives....
1. As a toddler, bit a lamp cord behind a chair in Tulsa Oklahoma. Adults noticed I was missing when then lights in the house dimmed. Jaw locked to the cable, head vibrating and gnashing, seeing black and blue spots, charred cheeks, dad whacked my head to get me off the cord (or maybe it just got the cord off the wall).

2. As a toddler, crawled out of crib onto dresser, to window sill and leaned against the screen to talk to the neighbor through her window. Screen ripped open, fell two stories doing a flip, landed feet first between a gas meter and a wood pile. Only scratched my ankle.

justthemaid

climber

Jim Henson's Basement

Aug 23, 2012 - 08:42pm PT

Nutjob- funny stories. You just totally brought back a memory.

When I was like.. 4.. I saw one of those public service announcements on the TV telling kids NOT to put scissors in a light socket.

... of course it had never occurred to me to put scissors in a light socket before they suggested it, so I immediately decided to give it a try. Jabbed the scissors in. (I did it fast 'cause I knew something bad was going to happen). Sparks started to fly. The wall caught on fire... my mother was cleaning and just happened to stroll by with a broom at that moment.. then saw the fire and proceeded to beat it out and knock the scissors out of the socket.

I wasn't holding onto the scissors so I guess it wasn't a near death experience like Nutjob flopping around on the cord there... except for the whole catching the house on fire-thing.

MisterE

Social climber

Topic Author's Reply - Aug 23, 2012 - 11:02pm PT

Mister E, you crazy bra! You must be some kinda peacenik not to have assaulted the skipper.

OK Reilly, I'll bite: Yes, I committed myself to non-violence at an early age. I have never been in a physical fight in my life. This eventually led to being a pretty good 2-miler in high-school. ;)

Reilly

Mountain climber

The Other Monrovia- CA

Aug 24, 2012 - 01:41am PT

Yeah, Erik, that was pretty obvious. It takes a real man to use his brain. :-)

I had some good ones kayaking both rivers and ocean. The water doesn't stop flowing.
I definitely shouldn't have gone down the Skykomish in that January flood - alone.
Dumb and dumber?

splitter

Trad climber

Hodad, surfing the galactic plane

Aug 24, 2012 - 01:46am PT

It is mid June 1965. I had just graduated from 9th grade and said goodbye to my girlfriend, all my friends in SLC, Utah. My dad had decided to move on, once again, for greener pastures. He decided to return to Cali, a place that seemed to always offer hope, when all else failed, to him and the migrants & dreamers of America. So off we went, cept first we were headed east & not west. He decided since he was already perhaps a third of the way across the country, we might as well make a visit to his and my mothers brothers and sisters and moms in Cape Breton, NS!

So, there I was, sitting on top of a suitcase directly behind my father in the second hand 1959 fourdoor caddie he piciked up cheap in SLC just before we left. i had a perfect view of the odometer over my fathers right shoulder. I clearly recall it was holding steady at the 75 mph speed limit. It had been for some time since he was utilizing the cruise control. My younger brother was to my right, next to the right rear door and sitting on top of another suitcase.

We were cruising through Nebraska (just outside of Kearney) very flat & nothing but cornfields and silos and the occasional farm/farmhouse that you could generally see for miles away, cuz they were generally surrounded by a grove of large oak trees and right next to the road. One was coming up on our left. Just as we were almost in front of it, this old chevie pulls out and stops right in front of us. Stops dead. My father didn't have time to hit the brakes, all he could do was jerk the steering wheel to the left. Prollie saves the lady and her sons life & perhaps us. Cuz slamming directly into another big car at 75 mph that was stopped dead would have most likely killed somebody, perhaps all of us.

All I can recall, and as if it were in slow motion, was my head hitting the top door jam as I sailed past it and exited the car. It knocked me out cold. My brother and the rear door had followed the lady and her son and their chevie across the road and into the corn field that lay on the other side. My mother said that she caught glimpses of me going head over heals(cartwheeling) over and over again, as the caddie spun around and around before it came to a stop. She also recalled thinking that, if I wasn't dead already as I came to a stop in the middle of the road, she was certain that the big 18 wheeler that came plummeting down the road, and not so much as attempting to slow down and that proceeded to run right over the top of me had certainly sealed my fate. Evidently he new that there was enough clearance and that if he kept me between his wheels that he would clear me...or maybe he just didn't give a damn, cuz he didn't stop to help and they never saw him again.

I recall, while in that state between subconscience and conscienceness just before coming to, hearing the intermitant wine of the ambulance. Sure is taking them along time I thought. It stops and goes, stops and goes. Then i awoke. I opened my eyes to what i at first mistakingly determined was the glaring sun shining down on me and causing me to blink my eyes. It turned out to be the emergency room or operating room overhead light. And what i had mistook as being an ambulance was the sound of them either drilling holes or tightening the screws (or grinding/adjusting something related to it) to the halo device they were fastening to my head to stabilise the cervical neck fracture i had evidently incurred secondary to the impact of the door jam with my head, i imagine.

My brother was in another room and still unconscious. And he would be for the rest of the day & night. But he was a little more fortunate than I, he would have nothing broken,, etc., no damageat all other than a concussion.

I suppose i was fortunate also, the halo/cast and the neck brace that was soon to replace it were only temporary. Although it left a permenant crook in my neck, which was prollie the reason my nephews when they later came of age nic-named me hunchy, it left me with no other permanent damage!

So I prollie escaped the Grim Reaper once again in my relatively young life. That would have been around #5 and I had only just turned 16 y.o.! I have certainly gone beyond the proverial 9 lives of Mr. Cat!!

BTW, i do not have spell check, so there are prollie a lot of typos and spelling errors, etc.! i don't have the time to correct them (it is late) and i don't really care.

edit: Here are the four others that i can think of, besides this one, up to this point:

1). 7 y.o. = drowned after an abandoned rowboat that my cousins & i attempted to repair, sunk over a deep channel in a river near our homes. my cousins new how to swim, i didn't and went under & was rescued & resuscitated by my 13-14 y.o. cousin who had, fortunately just showed up with his newly finished rowboat. a miracle really (imo). (Belle Cote, Cape Breton, NS)! (sorry MisterE., prollie shouldn't have deleted this shortly after i posted it here).

2). shortly after i turn 8 y.o. i encounter a serial killer (upstate NY/Norfork-Norwood) who had his wife & young son & daughter with him at the time (his M. O./he had them with him in order to lower his victems guard/i never would have followed him into the woods if he was alone!!) and was about to kill me, had described how he was going to torcher me first & finished by saying, "When they find you, they will think you were run over by a train." I escaped by the skin of my teeth. His son later appeared on a TV show (Court TV, with Nancy Grace) & also wrote a book about his life with his wicked parents. He & his two sisters claim that they had murdered more than 30 young boys, all of which were around my age 8 y. o. at the time. I did contact the DA, etc. and they confirmed that it was the same man from the testimony i gave them & knowledge that only someone who was there could have, plus he was a nighbor as were his mother & father to us (where we were living at the time)!!

3). A group of kids, shortly after I turned 9 years old, attempted to lure me into jumping off of a bridge (short jump) and being sucked through a pipe and under the road and out the other side (the Spring runn off had overflowed a stream and turned it into a temporary swimming hole they were enjoying). They said that they had all just done so. I couldn't see all the way through the pipe because the water was brushing against the top of it, so I wisely declined. Out of curiosity, I went back a few weeks later when the water had subsided and there was rebar crisscrossing it with chicken coop wire meshed to it in the middle of the pipe blocking passage. The force of the water running through the narrow pipe would have held me under water and the rebar.\' etc., would have blocked my passage. i would have surely drowned. (i told this story on Jaybro's thread in more detail).

4). When i was 10-11 a kid that was a sociopath, attempted to kill me by shooting an arrow at me. I saw what he was doing out of the corner of my eye (peripheral vision) and moved at the last second. The arrow, which had a broadhead point (for hunting deer, etc) stuck into the ground right where i had been laying seconds before. it would have entered my chest and come out the other side. (i also wrote about this in more detailon Jaybro's thread, i believe).

I already told of the time I went for Mr. Toads Wild Ride underneath my Chevie van around 1990. And there are several others, a couple climbing related, another car wreck in which i rolled my parents Lincoln Contenental over an embankment (totaled it & nearly totaled myself). Several major "beat-down hold-downs" surfing at low tide on a shallow reef in huge surf (16 ft & 30+ ft) both times being sucked up and over the falls twice (underwater the whole time, ie. being sucked up & over the falls and then drug along the bottom and then suddenly being sucked up and over the falls a second time & then being drug along the bottom = 2 cyles & a very long & exhausting time under water/believe me, U R fighting for yer life). Another time (16/17 y.o.)surfing in huge winter surf being taken a couple miles (2-3) out to sea via a strong rip current and powerful Japanese Current (took me south) & being rescued (just short of disapearing forever in the offshore fogbank) by a fishing boat whos only reason for being there was because his wife had gotten violently seasick & they had to return from baja (lucky me, eh?). etc., etc.!

And i told you on the TS bridge suicide thread recently, about the time I was diagnozed with a hideously painful terminal illness for several years that turned out to be not terminal and secondary to a toxic/slowly poisonous allergic reaction to a medication. And how, before I learned that it wasn't terminal, i decided to take the "easy way out" believe me, there is nothing easy about it, but failed in my attempt.

Crazy life, eh? At this point, when death does come, I will be ready. I have cheated it repeatedly, and will hopefully continue to do so, but we all have a date, sooner or later, with the Reaper. We can only say FU to him for so long!!

Oh yeah, i just remembered the time when I was about 21y.o. were i went for a walk and encounter this guy literally flying out a side door to his house (house on fire). He runs over to the curb, directly in front of me, where all the skin/tissue on his right arm, from fingertips to his shoulder, slides off and into the gutter in a big, wet puddle. Eye opening to say the least. He then sits down and looks up at me making eye contact & with a shocked and desperate look in his eyes/face says "My baby is in there!" that is all he said. It was apparent/obvious to me what he was asking me to do. Anybody in my position would have done the same thing. You would have had to been there, gone into that raging inferno to really know what I am talking about, but i came very, very close to not coming out, as did his young wife and baby daughter. i am glad i did what I did, and it nearly cost me my life, but most likely saved theirs. The place exploded and burnt to the ground very shortly after we safely got out (actually the wife was in pretty bad shape and almost didn't survive/was in icu klinging to life for about 3 weeks before she was released). (i also have sprayed about this here on ST on one thread or another over the years)...narcisist that I am! lol

EDIT: one more which i recently related/told about on another thread and that was within seconds of turning deadly. It was the time (1972) i was playing catch-up to my two friends (Kenny Cook & Chuck Parker) who were on the Illigitimate route at Tahquitz (5.9) & were already leading the second pitch. so i put my rope over my shhoulder and soloed the 1st pitch (5.7). the crux is around 70/80ft off the deck and is a couple crimper & edging moves on a block/steep slab to the left of the crack, which is fairly easy, but you leave it because it basically comes to an end at a manzanita tree/bush that blocks the way. i was right in the middle of the 5.7 moves when i came to a dead stop. it felt like a tug on my waste. i had bought this cheap pocket watch and the manzanita had snagged the chain that i had attached to a belt loop. i pulled like all hell. i recall looking down between my legs at the scree/talus some 70-80ft below contemplating my landing zone & what i needed to attempt to avoid hitting (it had come to that/i was about to fall). it came that close. suddenly the chain broke and i reached for a jug. i was totally pumped and shook up. i was literally within a second or two of plummeting to my death!!

Gunkie

Trad climber

East Coast US

Aug 24, 2012 - 08:13am PT

splitter wins. (holy crap!)

MisterE

Social climber

Topic Author's Reply - Aug 24, 2012 - 10:13am PT

Well, I am glad everyone made it through their close calls! Thanks for taking the time to share your stories.

Wow, Splitter - those are crazy experiences, as diverse as they are frightening!

At this point, when death does come, I will be ready.

Totally agree with this statement, I have no fear of it.

MisterE

Social climber

Topic Author's Reply - Aug 25, 2012 - 12:15am PT

Been thinking about Splitter's crazy stories all day, and another one came back to me.

#8 (out of sequence):

I met a gypsy girl when I was living in Anacortes, and totally fell hard for her. I as bouldering on the beach at Deception Pass, and she just danced into my life on that beach. She was a drop-dead gorgeous free spirit, and represented everything I longed for at the time. She liked that I climbed. We exchanged information before her intense Gypsy father showed up, but I knew the look he gave me...or maybe I didn't.

No matter, she was from San Francisco and I was a Washington boy - I found a way to SF that winter with my one-eyed friend who knew told me he could get us CASES of wine and brandy from the Gallo family where he had connections.

Booze and a girl - what more incentive does one need to load up the '71 bus and head South? Off we went.

I didn't call her until I was a few minutes away cuz I was afraid of her dad. She sounded nervous, but invited me anyway and said she would meet me "outside" her place. I saw the rustling curtain when I showed up, and my one-eyed friend saw more than I did and warned me off: "Dude, let's bail and get our booze!"

No Matter, I was all in. We picked her up, and she wanted to visit a friend - we were invited. He had Mono, and she wanted to visit to see if he was OK. We went, then I got blown off by her, and we picked up our cases of random wines from my friend's connection in the Valley and we headed North - my heart broken. We drank hard all the way home.

I got back to Guemes Island after a drunken spree back from Cali, and immediately got wicked sick. I was 28 years old, and as an only child, had never gotten Chicken Pox. Now I had it, and was running a 108 temperature late at night on a remote island where the last ferry to the mainland was 6PM.

My parents went to every neighbor and got all of the ice cubes the could find and threw them in the cold bath I was soaking in.

Remember Jacob's Ladder? Yep, just like that. I remember just swimming between consciousness that felt like the thread of life and just allowing the other thing.

I also got a strong sense that I was fighting a battle with mortal enemies of lifetimes that were trying to kill me - the gypsy father/daughter. I know it seems weird, but it was very strong at the time, and stayed with me for years.

splitter

Trad climber

Hodad, surfing the galactic plane

Aug 25, 2012 - 11:58am PT

^^^^ Wow, dood, that is trippy. 108 temp. you had definitely crossed over the line. Glad that you were able to return!

I ran into this chick at Wind & Sea beach. It was a blustery winter/autumn day & only her & I were there. She was very pretty & perhaps 7-8 years older than me (i was 21). She told me fairly soon in our initial conversation that she belonged to a family that had been involved in the occult (i don't recall the precise term she used) for many generations. She spoke of her father being a high priest & she said she was also a priestess. She wouldn't get anymore specific than that. i suspect now that it was a coven. I prollie should of checked out right then. But she was very alluring, enticing, seductive.

So, she invites me to come visit her at her house that evening. I can't recall what plans we had made, but to begin with she wanted to read my palms. And then take our relationship from there. So i show up and it was this big old house, kind of trippy. Just different. It definitely had an "air" of its own. Anyway, she takes me into her bedroom and she has this big king size poster bed with this purple & lavender silk cloth hanging from it like your entering a tent. We go inside and sit cross legged and she takes my palms and starts following/tracing the lines on my palms (reading them). Suddenly, her eyes open wide, she became intensely startled & gives me this very odd look. She paused for a second, then grabbed my other hand and looked at it, placed her finger on a line, looked at me and jumped up and ran into her kitchen, called somebody on her phone. There was a muffled conversation and all I heard was "Hurry, hurry!".

I was sitting on her bed thinking what the fluck?? It was such drastic a departure from where things had been going. She just walked in once or twice and gave me a somewhat bewildered/puzzled and hauntingly sinister look. I had suddenly become something/somebody that made her very uncomfortable, and i had done nothing. Up until that point, i was fairly submissive, just going along with her. A tad bit curious & a little reserved, perhaps. But she seemed very upbeat, glad that we had met each other, or so she had repeated a few times.

It seemed like only a few short minutes later that this older gal, perhaps in her mid to late thirties shows up (drove up). They had a brief conversation in another room and then they both came in and the other lady told me, "You must leave now and never return." The priestess gal never said another word to me after she picked up my palms and freaked. I simply obliged them and left. Very freaky. There was definitely, in my opinion, a strange vibe/spirit/air to the whole thing. Actually from the time I had met her.

I just wrote it off as a part of the "What along, strange trip this has been." (CSN&Y). But, I am certain that it had something to do with the sequence of events that occurred immediately after that. The very next morning I wound up in jail. I had acne on my back and was at the beach on my bike checking out some surf spots. I was in my wetsuit & had my surfboard & three tetracycline pills for my acne in a plastic baggy. A cop pulls me over cuz my dog was not on a leash. He could have given a sh#t about my dog, he just wanted to hassle me because i was a long haired surfer. He finds the pills and arrests me. Long story short. I end up in a place called G-Tank in county jail from Thursday morning to early Tuesday morning. About six days. What a friggin experience.

G-tank was/is for the serious offenders/felons. It was only supposed to house 24 prisoner's, but had over 70. Very intense. They had murderer's. arm robbers, hells angels, etc., a very violent place. Hispanic, black & white's all mixed together in very tight situation. I made a mistake of stepping on the tank captains "boy's" mattress which was on the floor the day i arrived. The tank captain (TC) was this badass black dood that I, nor anyone else had any intentions of crossing his path or messing with if we could help it. It was obvious he hated whites. His "boy" was as buffed and badass as the TC was. He was actually gonna be the next TC, was in the process of training & taking over once the other dood left. He was in for strong armed robbery.

Anyway, the first day i step on the corner of his mattress (big no no). It was on the floor in front of the TC's cell. He gets right in my face. "You stepped on my mat"!! What could i do but apologize. "Sorry, it was an accident, it won't happen again." Obviously, that wasn't good enough, cuz he repeats himself. "YOU STEPPED ON MY MAT!" So, what could I do but repeat myself, "Sorry, it was an accident,...!" He repeats himself "YOU...!" getting more pissed every time. And i am starting to get really pissed cuz I am realizing what a F'n bully/jerk the guy is. I have always loathed bully's, etc.! Plus, everything came to a head, my whole friggin pathetic and unjust situation. I was extremely polite to the guy and he rebuffed it, etc!So the gruffer he got, the louder and gruffer I got.

What really surprised me was, he suddenly backed down. Turned and walked away. But, that was not a necessarily a good thing. I was now on the tank captains sh#t list. I ended up getting food poisoned (or poisoned by something). The only person in the whole friggin tank that got sick after a meal. It wasn't the food, they friggin poisoned me by putting something in the food. Talk about a long miserable night. I believe i came close to death, wicked sick. Another guy told me to watch my back, cuz i was about to get shanked. Said that I was marked or whatever. Talk about some strange juju. I believe it was true, cuz there were a few other incidents leading up to it besides the face to face hollering match i got into with TC's "boy". What a frigin zoo. Some of those doods were going away for life or worse, didn't have anything to loose. I got my "roll up" call shortly after i was warned about getting shanked.

But here is the weirdest thing that happened. Within the first 15-30 minutes of entering G-Tank, I find myself face to face with this dood who was about 26 y.o., about 5-6 years older than me! I mean he got right in my face. Nose to nose, so he must have been close to my height (6'2"). This guy had shoulder length scraggly/dirty blond hair. But what was VERY distinguishing was this big inverted (upside down) cross he had tattooed to his right cheek/face. I mean this wasn't any old tattoo, it took up the whole right side of his face from just below the eye socket to the jaw line. And it was as if someone took a Roman style cross, laid it on his face, and traced around it with a tattoo gun. Very freaky for the early seventies. Not many people had tattoos, period, back then let alone huge facial tattoo's.

So he gets right in my face and we are looking directly into each others eyes. And he says, "Do you know who I am?" I simply divert my eyes for a second or two at the inverted cross and then look back into his eyes. It was pretty obvious to me who he was. The whole damn place was silent, you could have heard a pin drop. I was wondering "WHAT THE F*#K"? So i am looking into his eyes and he repeats himself, but adds something to it, "DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? I KNOW WHO YOU ARE. DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?" This went on for about two or three more times. I would simply look at the upside down cross for a second each time and then stair back into his eyes. I didn't say one word. I had zero fear. Perhaps he was looking for fear. I do not know. Anyway, he finally goes "I am a high priest in the Church of Satan. And when I get out of here in nine months (said the exact day he was getting out). I am going to find a girl, rape her and at the moment I _ _ _ _ _ _ I am going to shoot her in the head! He then got this wicked looking gleam in his eyes, and with a sinister looking smile, turned and walked away.

I was a Christian, not a very vocal one, my friends new i was, but i never brought the subject up with them nor anybody. Most people i new, didn't have a clue that i was. I certainly did not tell anyone in G-tank that i was. After my encounter with the "Priest" a dood comes up and tells me that he (Satanist priest) new i was a Christian, told everyone and that he was very serious in regards to the message he had for me.

So, of course, the charges were dropped, after they found out it was medication (i have to admit that a yellow & purple capsules prollie did look like street drugs). So, fast forward to nine months later. I pretty much forgot,or at least did not dwell on the whole friggin incident let alone Mr. Priest. But I am up at Idyllwild and more or less living & climbing there for the summer. i get to know these guys from the Mountain People Store (a climbing shop in Idyllwild) One day we are visiting these two gals who did some sewing for the owner of MPS (they eventually started what is now Eagle Creek). They (two gals) suddenly voice the concern for their roommate who didn't return from the Colorado River (on the border of eastern Cali & Arizona). I have never been there, but it was a very popular place for San Diegan's back then Particularly on Memorial Day at the end of May. That was the weekend that "Mr. Priest" was released from jail/said he was going to be anyway.

I hadn't thought about him, or what he said, for a long time. But suddenly a cold chill ran through my body and what he had said came rushing back to me. About a week or so later they found her body. She had been raped & murdered...shot in the head!

Think what you like, coincidence? Perhaps. But I believe there was something more than just his sinister & evil designs behind this whole eerie episode that started with the gal/priestess. It all seemed linked together at the time. Someone sent me a message, loud and clear, here is a little something to remember me/us by and exactly "WHO I AM"!!

edit: i told this story on Jaybro's thread also. I deleted it because I saw nothing of value in it, other than it is eerie, dark, unsettling and i really don't even like to think about it. I have told it to family and friends and it has never seemed to have any positive value to telling it. So, therefore why should i expose it to others, particularly here. So i may soon delete it. It makes me uncomfortable just thinking about it. It was one very odd week in my life right from the get go, meeting that chick. i wish that i had never come in contact with her. i should have known better.

Anyway, I told this story, cuz your story of the Gypsy brought it all flooding back into my memory. And i do believe i came pretty close to dying secondary to what they attempted to poison me with in G-Tank. There seemed to be some vibes/spirits following me around after that encounter with the "Priestess". It was strange,to say the least.

Don Paul

Big Wall climber

Colombia, South America

Aug 25, 2012 - 01:26pm PT

Splitter you should definitely go to another palm reader to find out what all this was about. Aren't you curious what the lines on your palms mean?

splitter

Trad climber

Hodad, surfing the galactic plane

Aug 25, 2012 - 01:41pm PT

Don Paul,

No! I have always, for what it's worth, thought it's as bogus as crystal balls, etc.! But I do know there is a spirit realm. I have had very close encounters with it throughout my life. In fact, much closer than this relatively early one that I just shared. Think what you like. i am not attempting to prove anything to anyone. I simply shared about a similar experience to MisterE's (with the gypsy gal/family) that did bring me close to death (poisoned), etc.!

I could care less about what my palms say (or don't). Or anything else (tarot cards, horoscope, etc.). Perhaps they do have some significance relating to the dark side, or life in general. They have been around for a long time (Old Testament/bible times) and some people take them very seriously (obviously). But, I have no desire to go there!

D'Wolf

climber

Aug 25, 2012 - 02:20pm PT

Let's see...

10 yrs old: riding bike no hands, front wheel catches a rut and cuts left - I go right (right over the handlebars that is). Distinctly remember my head smacking the pavement twice (right temple). Got up and continued on with my friends.

11 yrs old: weeks after witnessing my grandmother's body lying in a pool of blood in the street, the victim of a drunk driver, I'm crossing the street on my bike at the same intersection with friends. Car in the fast lane stops... car in the slow lane does not. My sister lets out a scream, car locks up its' brakes, my front wheel goes full-tilt left, I do a 360 in the street as the car goes by and I coast on over to the other side - just missing a ride to "the otherside".

12 yrs old: climbed on to the flat gravel roof of our school to retrieve an errant frisbee. See it and trot on over. The catch: it's winter and there's a sheet of black ice on the roof. I slip, fall, and promptly slide backwards off the roof of the school falling 15-20 ft to the concrete sidewalk below landing flat on my back and slamming the back of my head. I get up and walk away.

16 yrs old: riding a Honda 350 up to Virginia City from Carson City at 2:30 a.m. on a warm summer night. Come around a corner to see rocks everywhere. Lay the bike down, pant leg gets caught in the rear sprocket, and I get dragged through the boulders. End up pretty banged up but able to ride the bike home.

21 yrs old: Back up to Virgina City, this time from Reno, late on a warm summer afternoon after a fight with my girlfriend. This time on a Suzuki GS650. Going too fast. Tag my foot peg and audibly tell myself to slow down. Round another corner and the sun blinds me as it hits my visor. I'm in a right-hand turn so I use my left hand to pop my visor up but it's stuck. Eventually, I get it up just in time to see the upcoming left-hand turn and notice my speedo says 75 mph. SH!T. Jam the front brakes, downshift and hit the throttle, putting the bike in a slide. I turn the handlebars full-on right to flatten them out and let the bike go. Me and the bike slide for about 100 feet. I'm still carrying too much momemtum as I'm nearing the edge of the road (cliff). I audibly said, "Well, let's see how good this Kiwi helmet is." I sit up, tuck my chin and smack the guardrail with the forehead of my hemet. It lays me out flat, just past the rail with my feet just dangling off the edge. Get up shut the bike off, straighten the handlebars and ride home with a nice "star" on my helmet.

22 yrs old: went rafting the Truckee with friends early spring. Raft drifts toward a fallen tree and I can't avoid it. I yell at my wife to jump and swim towards the middle of the river. I get sucked under the tree, the raft gets snagged on a branch, and I'm tangled in the raft. I hold my breath (which I used to practice doing - 3 minutes was nothing) and start to work. Manage to get untangled and popped up the other side. My wife is now screaming because, turn's out, she can't swim! I swim like a man possessed to catch her and manage to get us both to shore.

Oh I've got more; I'm 51 now. I just wonder how many more chances I get...

splitter

Trad climber

Hodad, surfing the galactic plane

Aug 25, 2012 - 02:36pm PT

D'Wolf,

Me thinks that it was prollie fortunate that you, MisterE, & myself never hooked up as partners (on El Cap, or whatever). Talk about, what an accident prone trio that would have been, sheeesh!! lol

edit: btw, Honda Scrambler's were cool bikes (i suspect that is what your 350 was). my best friend had one in 10th grade. One day we were ripping down this dirt road by his house (me on the back). Not sure how fast we were going, but he had brought it up through all the gears. nor, exactly what happened next. But we both ended up in the ditch. me on top of him. Neither one of us got hurt.

MisterE

Social climber

Topic Author's Reply - Aug 25, 2012 - 03:27pm PT

Haha! Too funny, Splitter. Like some triangulation of close call force fields, lol. I would definitely like to have a beer with you sometime, however.

Cheers, Erik

Sierra Ledge Rat

Mountain climber

Old and Broken Down in Appalachia

Aug 25, 2012 - 03:59pm PT

Does getting sent on a military suicide mission count as a near-death experience? Has anyone else here on the Taco been sent on a military mission that was suicidal?

Reilly

Mountain climber

The Other Monrovia- CA

Aug 25, 2012 - 04:16pm PT

Ya mean like turning out for Tuesday Midshipman inspection with a pair of
corfams in bad need of a shine?

"Mister, those shoes look like shit!"

"Sir, yes, sir! Must be the reflection, sir!"

mitchy

Trad climber

new england

Aug 25, 2012 - 04:22pm PT

umm, belive it does SLR.

splitter

Trad climber

Hodad, surfing the galactic plane

Aug 25, 2012 - 05:04pm PT

SLR, "Does getting sent on a military suicide mission count as a near death experience? Has anyone else here on the taco been sent...?"

1) Yes, it sure would qualify!

2) Certainly not I.

Apocalypse Now comes to mind. And I recall reading a book about this one dood that use to go out on missions in Nam where he had to locate various NVA generals, etc., sneak into their huts at night, determine which one was the general and cut his throat. Sounded pretty suicidal to me!

My brother-in-law (sister's husband) was a Marine Sargeant. Did two tours of duty in Nam. His platoon (or company) were on some hill & surrounded. Lost all contact, radio or otherwise, with base camp. Were in a very bad situation. Evidently several had volunteered to break through and get help. They had failed to do so and what happened to them was not a pretty sight to behold. My brother-in-law volunteered. Made it out. Ran 18 miles through the jungle to get help. Got a Silver Star for doing so. He was exhausted and near death from the process. Got him a ticket home. Not that it was his desire to return home. Anyway, I suspect that was considered a suicide mission of sorts. Not sure. According to him, he/they were gonna die anyway, so what the hell. Might as well die trying.

Reilly -- Suicidal, indeed! Sounds as though you lived life close to the edge, as a Midshipman! lol

mouse from merced

Trad climber

merced, california

Aug 25, 2012 - 05:12pm PT

It must be the reflection.
[Click to View YouTube Video]

mynameismud

climber

backseat

Aug 25, 2012 - 06:33pm PT

Living in Eastern Washington, bored three of us decided to drive around. I was riding shotgun, tall skinny kid was in the back. We were in a little Datsun. Well the driver decided to score some pot and arranged a deal to meet these guys outside of town. We met at the prearranged spot and the driver walked back to the car behind us. I was keeping an eye in the mirror. Everything seemed fine as she walked back up to the car and got in then quickly drove off. Soon there is a car behind us lights on high, horn blazing. I look over questioningly. Seems she was suppose to sample then go back and pay. Hmm, a missed step in the process can upset some folks.

Well we haul ass down various roads at full speeds, with the lights off. The driver has sparked up and is now sampling the goods. Speeds have not reduced and in a flicker of Moonlight we see a dirt road turn off and go down through some orchard. We somehow manage the turn and are now going full tilt through an orchard with no lights in front or behind. After a short bit I convince the driver to turn on the lights for a second to " see where we are". The lights come on and there before us is a turn. In a moment of pure reaction she whips the wheel and we slide sideways then flip and land upside down in the main irrigation canal. Being summer and hot the windows are down and the car immediately floods. I try and get out but my arms sink up to the elbow in mud. I am yanking back and forth trying to get my arms out but cannot get any leverage. I am getting real pissed and starting to black out when my arms pop out. I have nothing left but the next thing I know I am sputtering and breathing air and looking straight down the canal. I guess that motion caused to car to right itself.

I look over and smile at the driver and the kid in the back bolts out my window since there is not one in the back. Tiny car, tiny back seat, real tall kid. I do not think he touched anyone or anything he just levitated and left in a blur. We laugh for a second then the driver goes out her window. I sit there floating down the canal, it was kind of trippy. Not sure of what else to do, I turn off the radio, turn off the lights,grab the keys, and turn on the four way flashers then bail. I get carried down a ways before I can get out. It takes me several tries to get out and each time I fail I fall back in the canal and get carried further down stream.

After a bit I am tired and soggy but standing on dry ground. I go walking up the canal bank and as I get about fifty feet from my friends I a truck comes flying up and skids to a stop. The drivers door opens, a flood light comes and and out of the dark between the truck cab and the door of the truck comes a large caliber hand gun. I just remember that barrel as being huge. Without really thinking, the word sh1t goes through my mind and I reach inside my inner coat pocket. At which time the gun points right at me and a rather cold voice says nobody moves. At this point my veins are ice, and I just feel friggin empty. I figure the dealers have us and there is not much we can do. I put my right hand out palm forward to indicate for him to hold on. I slowly pull my hand out of my jacket so he can see the pack of cigarettes. I stare down at them, they are useles, soakin wet. I hear a voice off to my left as my friends just now realize I am alive.

It turns out the guy is a farmer and saw us go by. He ended up calling a local tow truck guy and helped us get home and get the car out of the canal. The dealers did not catch us, the law never found out we put a car in the ditch. But, that little Datsun was never the same.

mouse from merced

Trad climber

merced, california

Aug 25, 2012 - 07:25pm PT

Hell's Kitten.

Don Paul

Big Wall climber

Colombia, South America

Aug 25, 2012 - 07:25pm PT

Splitter you can tell a really good story. My former landlord was kidnapped for many years by the FARC, and spent his time handcuffed in jungle camps. Somehow he escaped one day, ran for days through the jungle, and became a national hero. Not sure exactly what he did to get kidnapped, but I saw him in public lots of times and somehow they never kidnapped him again. It used to be, there were so many roadblocks on the main roads, it was never safe to travel by land. They would just pop up and stop you and it could be the army, the guerillas, or the paramilitaries, they all look the same. I've been through FARC roadblocks various times and it feels like Russian Roulette. Things are not like that at the moment, although the main paramilitary group will call a paro armado once in a while and prohibit all traffic for a few days time, just to show they can.

mynameismud

climber

backseat

Aug 25, 2012 - 08:13pm PT

1985, A sleep at the wheel. Four near misses and a thrill ride.

After putting myself through school I manage to get a job. The whole company was doing a great, people working crazy hours just getting stuff done. As a reward they give us two weeks mandatory vacation paid. I loaded up my motorcycle and took off.

Starting the ride I was hauling ass down 101 and I ended buzzing another motorcycle as it approached quicker than I thought it would. I buzzed this Harley on my 79 CB750 at about 100 mph. I saw the dude with the leather jacket with a familiar insignia on the back wobble in my mirrors. He was way back there in no time but slowly started to close in. So I kept the throttle held back until the tank bled dry and I had to hit a town to get gas. I was so happy I had geared this bike real tall for road trips. Was terrible off the line but it had a big tank, got good gas mileage and would go pretty fast :)

After 5 days and couple thousand miles a few all nighters I am rolling into San Diego in the early AM after riding through Nevada and Arizona. I am low on gas, low on sleep, and full on bladder. I keep punching my leg and yelling at the top of my lungs trying to stay awake. I have already switched the tank over to reserve and am praying for a gas station. Well, I must have be prayin way to hard cuz I fell sound to sleep.

I awaken to the sound of a horn. As I focus my eyes I come to realize that I was slowly laying the bike down, but instinct kept me on top of the bike. So Here I am going down the San Diego Freeway at 70 with my bike leaned over at a ridiculous angle with me sitting on top. I glance over my shoulder to see a small car disappear into a large wall of cars that are queued up behind me waiting for me to hit that critical mark of no return. Very carefully I work the bike up to vertical at which point a solid stream of cars pass me by. The horns, yelling and one finger salutes work as a very affective alarm. I work my way over to the right hand lane. Just as I am settling in the bike sputters and and engine quits turning. I pull in the clutch and work it into neutral. I pull onto the shoulder and just as I am slowing down to about 15 mph an exit comes up and I take it. I have absolutely no idea where I am but as I roll down the exit I notice on the far side is a gas station. I come rolling down the off ramp and just as I approach the light turns green I coast through the intersection and right up to the gas pump.

Strip down, change cloths, gas up, pee and head out. Somewhere up the pacific coast highway I am in the middle of a string of cars but do not really care since the views are great and I have new lease on life. So I am gawking at something to my left when the car behind me honks. I quickly look back see nothing then turn around and realize the cars in front are stopped. I whip my bike to the left into the on coming land and realize that one car is pulling out and another is making a left into a park overlook. I lock up the bike and half power slide past one car dump the clutch punch it, re-lock up the brakes and fish tail past the other. It required travelling in a S path. Have no idea how I did it but I had been riding a lot since it was my only mode of transportation and I also grew up on dirt bikes.

I was so proud of my self. I rode away to the tune of screeching tires and honking horns. I could not help but to rubber neck back and take a look at the grid lock behind me. As I turned around right before me was a bridge abutment. If I hit it I was going over a huge cliff. With no thought I threw my bike to the left and leaned like mad. I had my bike once again past a 45 degree angle with a guardrail inches to my right and several hundred feet to the rocks below. This for what ever reason really shook me. My heart was pounding like a jack hammer and I broke into a cold sweat that I could not stop. Just a bit up the road was a campground I pulled over for a bit to calm down.

Finally I was on the last leg of the trip coming over highway 17 from Santa Cruz toward San Jose on my way back to Oakland. It was dark and pissing rain. At this point I had my full face helmet on but the face shield kept fogging up. I was trying to stay with cars to make it easier to see the road. At one point it became real difficult to see the road. It was black in front of me. Then I realize that the black spot in front of me was a car with no tail lights and no brake lights that is about 3 feet from my front tire and getting closer. Going into a corner I hit the brakes, stand the bike up and slide into the lane next to me and past the car the darkend car. But I had not planned on this and the angle carried though the corner and way to close to the center divide and oncoming traffic. Again have no idea how I got out of that. The worst part is I could not shake that car. I speed up he speeds up. I slowed down he slowed down. It was a life and death struggle with that car all the way down the hill. In retrospect I should have pulled over and parked it for 5 minutes but I was cold and wet and I wanted to get home.

D'Wolf

climber

Aug 25, 2012 - 11:18pm PT

Splitter -

You, MisterE, & myself...yeah, there's a scary combination based on the stories.

But then again, had we been aware of our apparent indestructibility, we could have put up some crazy, sick FA's on the Captain; you know, like A12 or something. They'd be unrepeated to this day because no one would be willing to take 400 foot falls onto ledges...

D'Wolf

MisterE

Social climber

Topic Author's Reply - Aug 26, 2012 - 02:39am PT

Ha! True dat -D'Wolf. Crap - forgot about the motorcycle one!

I had just sold my Norton 750 Commando because I kept blowing out the bottom end, and I was no motorcycle mechanic. Man, I loved that bike, though.

I bought a Moto Guzzi 1000, the two-speed version because I liked the old school bikes, but wanted something that wouldn't rip my hand off the handlebars and blow the seals with low-end compression. I was living in Bellingham, but would ride down to Seattle to see friends occasionally. I loved taking Highway 99, and was just north of Marysville one winter when I hit a bridge with sheet ice and braked just like the car in front of me. The nice thing about the Guzzi two-speed was it had huge guard-bars front and back on both sides, so when I went down on the ice, I wasn't crushed - just sliding at 50 MPH smooth as snot on my side. The bad news was, I had sliding cars both in front of me and behind me at that speed. The car in front of me came up fast as it braked, and i had to decide whether to go under it, or push away and get run over by the car behind me that was also in a full slide. During that time of processing, I could see the car in front sliding off the road at the end of the bridge, and I held on a little longer, sliding towards that same precipice

As the car in front spun and went down the edge, I finally focused on the car behind me, gauged the necessary survival push somehow and let go of the Guzzi. I came to a spinning stop just in front of the car behind me (merely feet), and neither my motorcycle nor I nor the car behind me went into that ravine. We both got up/out of our respective positions, and peered down into the ditch where 4-6 cars were piled up. A woman who had just bought a new car was weeping by the side of the road about her vehicle 2 deep in the mess.

I got on my Guzzi and rode away clean.

Sierra Ledge Rat

Mountain climber

Old and Broken Down in Appalachia

Aug 26, 2012 - 02:48am PT

I can tell you that there is no other feeling like being sent on a mission that is suicidal.

At first you can't believe that it will actually happen. You believe that someone with some sense will scrub the mission.

Then, as the "GO TIME" nears you start feeling a bit uneasy. "Surely this mission would have been CNX (cancelled) by now." But it hasn't.

Then it's time to start your engines and you realize you're screwed. You realize that this is your last day on earth. But there's nothing you can do about it because of honor and obligation. And you accept your death before it has even happened.

They say that death is peaceful, but not at that point in the game.

It's a lot like climbing - except in climbing it's all voluntary to a point. Once you commit to a difficult climb, it's a lot like being in prison -- except you have a greater chance of falling to your death. You can't just walk off the court and head for the shower.

Sometimes the struggle to quit a climb is more difficult that the stuggle that got you in that mess in the first place.

MisterE

Social climber

Topic Author's Reply - Aug 26, 2012 - 03:02am PT

I have been close many times, but not by the decision of others sending me to that place - I imagine that is a crazy place to have to be. Unimaginable difficulty - I can only sympathize, not empathize.

mynameismud

climber

backseat

Aug 28, 2012 - 04:52pm PT

John Doe

Occasionally people notice I walk with a slight limp, on the rare occasion that they notice and ask why, I tell them it is do to stupidity. Reason, playing chicken is stupid but that is how it happened. As a result of my episode of stupidity I hit the corner of a building at about 50 MPH. I did manage to miss the mailboxes, guide wire, telephone pole and car. I just clipped the rain gutter down spout with my head but hit the building with my shoulder. The guy behind me thought for sure I was dead since I was spread eagle 4' from the ground spinning in circles before hitting the ground and tumbling around like a rag doll before sliding to a stop.

I do remember becoming conscious, I was yelling and cursing full volume at some guy in a car that had stopped to ask if I was ok. I remember trying to stand up and taking a step to have my left leg collapse and send me face first into the dirt. So I crab walked over to the corner of the building that I just hit, rested my ass there and tried to put it all back together. I knew my knee was screwed. A person walked out of the building looked at me looked around then went back in. A bit later someone else came out and asked a question. That was when I began to realize all was not well. I could not answer since I could not really remember anything.

After a while I ended up in the Hospital. No ID, motorcycle was still registered to the person I had bought it from, a brain that was still trying to figure out how to work again. I slipped into and out of a coma for the next Month or so. Initially when I woke up I would be in restraints since I had pulled out all the tubes when not restrained. This also means that if you briefly come to consciousness there is not way to page a nurse. I do remember coming to a couple of times.

One time two nurses were talking about sex. I suppose it was a safe place, since who was going to talk about what they were saying. But for what ever reason my mind picked up on it and in my mind they were young and beautiful. Which when I manage to peel an eye open they were. The one gal kinda gasped then they both walked out. Soon a whole herd of folks came streaming in. I remember wiggling fingers to say yes. I remember my mind starting to put things together. Like why the sheets moved every time I did. The first time they pulled those sheets loose from my bed sores will not be easily forgotten. Then there was the first time I walked with assistance. The first time I tried to put crutches together while on morphine. This is a long story that perhaps I should write down the best that I can.

Was not supposed to walk again or do much else. Played soccer for years, a few 14,000 ft peaks, NIAD, Martial Arts. Put myself through school and got a job, took night classes, got good grades. So far beating the odds, but that was one bad decision.

Norwegian

Trad climber

Placerville, California

Sep 5, 2012 - 05:00pm PT

death is one of our spiritual possessions;
a currency of sort,
in the eternal economy.

it is a sacred entity;
something of which we barter
with the universal spirits.

if you are protecting and hording
your life, which is merely your immature death,
then you are living in spiritual debt.

spend it wisely,
youths.
elders.
infants.

it is not tragic, ours death.
no, it is beautiful and something
to strive for.

my wife, just two days ago,
told me that she watched
me become her widower.

but it didn't happen,
it was merely her fears stiring her complacent and sedentary being.

i "nearly" was swept from this biological plane,
right in front of her protective eyes....

she was controlling traffic upon a camp road over
which i was creating hazards.

50' up a dead tree, her girth at my point maybe 10 inches,
40' of rotten top above me,
wires 300 degrees around me,
a structure hogging 40 degrees,
i had only 20 complicated degrees (through two other trees)
into which i could fall this beast...

i had a guy line directing my hope,
and a good, strong friend pulling this rope...

i made my face cut,
waddled my spurs around her trunk
and proceeded with my back cut...

she begins her descent,
the tip gets mildly snagged in the branches of
her neighbor and this entanglement rips off
the top 30' and it falls back at me....

i see this hazard upon me and lean as far
to the right as my personal rigging will allow,
and the top grazes my by 6 inches...

grazes the main pg&e lines by six inches...

all this in front of spouses concerned eyes,

you wanna know what is funny about this?

she was barely phased.
not shaken. not upset.
she told the awaiting cars it'll be about
5 minutes.

now the guy holding and pulling my retired climbing rope?
he ran unto my wife and cried (though he wont admit it)
on her shoulder.

on the ground i told them...

"i've a knack at living.
i'll die when im ready to die, and not before."

what else?
i charged not a dime to the land owner on which this hazard dwelled.
no, instead i traded the job for the two antique beds in
which my beautiful daughters awaken their sleeping dreams.

you and see the exchange?
the new and hopeful dreams of young loves,
cost me and my spouse merely a fraction of my death.
good riddence.

in the words of our departed ken kesey...

"how do you like you blue-eyed boy know? mr. death."

michael feldman

Mountain climber

millburn, nj

Sep 5, 2012 - 05:54pm PT

I had one while climbing in the Tetons several years ago. While being awake for 68 hours and lost at times, I was comforted by seeing a faceless "man" in all white constantly perched above in the rocks watching over me. A religious person (which I am not) would call him an angel. I knew that he was not real, but having him up there gave me inexplicable comfort and made me feel that I would be ok. In the end, I chalked this up to being really tired and worn out, and not eating or drinking for 30 hours on top of the lack of sleep. Then I saw a review for "The Third Man Factor" (I think in Climbing magazine) so I decided to read it. Completely fascinating - and I found out that I am not the only one who experienced what I did. Indeed, it is apparently "relatively" common over the years. Even if you never experienced it, the book is a great adventure and science read combined. Here's a link to it on Amazon (and no, I have nothing to do with the book or the author, etc.): http://www.amazon.com/The-Third-Man-Factor-Impossible/dp/1602861072

rectorsquid

climber

Lake Tahoe

Sep 5, 2012 - 05:59pm PT

I almost crashed an airplane. Doing a go-around in hot weather at high altitude and forgot to turn off the carb heat until I was within ground effect. I'm sure that I freaked out a few motorists on the road as I went over ten feet above their heads.

Thank goodness that there is ground effect.

Dave

kaholatingtong

Trad climber

the green triangle, cali

Sep 5, 2012 - 06:28pm PT

not sure if this actually counts, but,

when i was a freshmen in college me and two buds went out to try out skydiving. we did the usual tandem, guide on your back jump thing. when it got to the point to pull the chute out i pulled it but we had a little bit of an issue. some of the lines when opening out into the chute got tangled/crossed and the chute did not open all the way. i recall being in this big spin in the parachute while looking out to see my two buddies chutes open normally and they slowed down much more then i did. the guy on my back tells me that exactly on his count i need to kick my entire body as hard as i can to the left. 1,2,3, me and him both simultaneously kick left hard. nothing happens. once more, another kick and still nothing. i remember looking out thinking that we are still falling a lot faster than my buddies and they seem to be a bit higher up than us at this point, with their chutes open and cruising. on the 5th kick the cords untangled and the chute finally opens all the way. when we finally got to the ground i forgot to land and then fall backward with my tandem guide, guess the excitement threw me off. oops. the dude is super pissed off at me, and tells me i coulda "broken" us because i didnt fall backward when we hit the ground. whatever, perhaps he shoulda packed the chute properly; or maybe i was, as they told me later, that "1 out of 500" that try skydiving. he also told me that if we had not managed to get the chute to finally open properly on that last kick he was going to cut it and pull the backup, and he already had his cutter in hand, apparantely. i enjoy the heights but not sure i would ever pay to skydive again, much less try base jumping. shrug.

Norwegian

Trad climber

dancin on the tip of god's middle finger

Apr 19, 2014 - 09:57am PT

i am the lung of the sunrise;
that imploding phase change
is hungry for oh-two, and i
control the valve;
i think i'll dim it today,
starve it to near death
and then unsuffocate
the smoldering mass
with an increased ration of gas.

so leave your shades behind,
and walk into my dimly-lit dream.

Charlie D.

Trad climber

Western Slope, Tahoe Sierra

Apr 19, 2014 - 12:59pm PT

Great stories everyone!!! Yikes!!!
BTW splitter, if we ever meet I'll buy you a beer but please don't ask me to share a rope....no offense ;^)

Charlie D.

MisterE

Gym climber

Bishop, CA

Topic Author's Reply - Nov 8, 2014 - 09:38pm PT

Bump for the real issues of our lives and passages - Werner is a wise man:

Everyone dies every day.

You're not the same person as yesterday ......

One thing Werner - how will I die tomorrow?

Aeriq

Sport climber

100-year Visitor

May 31, 2019 - 04:50pm PT

Since we are close to death

Bump

Chris Cunningham

Trad climber

San Francisco

May 31, 2019 - 08:52pm PT

I went climbing with Chuck Clance....he nearly got me killed, himself killed, both of us killed and total strangers killed on numerous occasions.

Ricky D

Trad climber

Under the Webmasters Thumb

May 31, 2019 - 09:07pm PT

It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine.

johnkelley

climber

Anchorage Alaska

May 31, 2019 - 09:36pm PT

Waiting in Bever Basin after the FA of Continuing Education for a plane pick up for a week with no food, water, or fuel and low temps of -30*. It was the most weight i’ve ever lost on a trip.

The West Face of the still unclimbed Middle Peak. Two attempts same outcome. Huge spendrift slides. Big enough that they’d push you to the knot at end of the ropes. You would just bounce up and down on the knot while snow packed into your mouth... to the point of not being able to breath.

Being swept, with Matt Neuner, what seemed like a huge distance by a massive avalanche on the N.E. of Mt. Owen. I remember seeing his yellow boot pass right by my face a few times as we cart wheeled in the side. We both just stood up and walked away. Had some gear pulled off during the slide. A glove and my helmet.

An avalanche on the Valhalla Traverse after a failed winter attempt of a new route on the North Face of the Enclosure. I saw Steve trigger the slab above me. It hit me and I was falling with it. We were unroped. Got pushed/tumbled maybe 75’-100’ and got caught up by a boulder and the slide went over the cliff a dozen feet past me.

Attempting a virgin peak in the very back of Tsum Valley on the Chinese border. The entire area is f*#ked up. We were sleeping in a villagers yak barn. I think the yak herder was sleeping with his daughter and likely beating her. We ran into 3 brothers who were in a fist fight over the wife the 3 of them shared. The next day we were told to leave at knife point by a large gang of locals with a bunch of Maoist flags and banners and sh#t. We were out of there pretty quick.

Had I been in base camp when I was up on Choppa Bamare things could be different. The camp and the entire upper valley were completely overrun by avalanches. Our tent and everything in it were simply gone. Buried under at least 8’ to 10’ of snow.

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