Trip Report
TR 2011-05-08 No Way Out.
Monday May 16, 2011 1:10am
Scrape, scrape, scrape, with the nut tool, and my feet are littered with dirt. A tiny seam is exposed, too small for anything I have, and it's facing straight up anyways. I stand at ease in the eye of a hurricane. My comfy stance is an illusory bubble of safety: smooth wall in front, big air behind, pro far below to the left, harder unprotected climbing to the right. The river thunders a few paces behind my belayer far below, reducing our communication to hand signals. He flashes a thumbs up and thumbs down in quick succession, asking after my progress. Earlier I answered with a wavering hand, but now I simply drag my finger across my throat, from ear to chin. Back to chiseling dirt. It prolongs the fantasy that I'm still alive.

It began with dreams of a king-sized adventure. Le_bruce and I had been drooling over these plans for the last month, since I had scoured the old Roper green and red guides for worthy obscurities. You see, we'll never be world-class climbers breaking speed records or uber-studs pulling down big numbers, or even ticking the real hard man classics. But we can be counted on to bite off a little more than we can comfortably chew and make our version of a man-versus-nature epic. We thrive on that stuff. But odds have a way of catching up, and if you bet against the house often enough you're going to lose. So this here's a tale of losing.

Our approach the previous night was an adventure unto itself. During autumn, this approach to the Ribbon Falls Amphitheater is the only one I'd done faster than a Supertopo estimate. We both thought it was pretty casual. In the present high river season, trying to stay on the right, on a moonless night, it was an entirely different beast. We parked somewhere west of The Captain, and took several false starts before navigating a passage through the alluvial swamps. Impossibly, we seemed to be on a narrow island for most of our approach. Many times we slid across wet stones, pulled at tiny twigs for balance over a boiling cascade. Even if there was no climbing to be had, this adventure would make the trip worthwhile. I was often disoriented by our circuitous path, plowing toward El Cap. But le_bruce was the navigation king. Following his intuition, we crossed the right number of rivers, skirted across the correct precipices, crossed back at the right time to avoid the traps of the West Chimney and El Cap Gully, reaching the top of the slopes near the base of The Hourglass. We chose our sloping manzanita-covered bivouac poorly, and I noted the passing of hours by the bright band of Milky Way marching across the starry sky. Morning came at an entirely vulgar hour, catching me unprepared.

After a quick morning scramble along the cliffband, we came up short: the sum of water bursting forth from the Ribbon Falls Amphitheater was compressed to a single jet hurtling over a large boulder. It looked like the path of the dry season approach. At present, it would require scuba gear, winches, axes and a big bowl of wheaties. From that impasse, we spied a gently sloping ramp that looked third class, but there was no obvious pine tree to mark the start of Chockstone Chimney. I explored a bit, but decided it was more like 5.9 so I backed off in pursuit of the correct approach. We did see a likely pine a little uphill to the left, but we couldn't get through the water barrier. There was a potential dry passage, but we failed to pull the chimney to double-handjam-roof to flaring wide buttery smooth slippery offwidth. We tried a shoulder stand, but failed miserably.

Not ready to give up on the dream before we had begun, I launched up our previous path, to a back-to-feet chimney through a sloping runnel slippery with decomposing hummock dust and river mist. I hung out in a clump of trees with a rotten bail sling, while le_bruce sussed out a rope mess and I charted the next ten feet of steep hands and off-fingers to a possible face exit out left. It might connect back with the Chockstone Chimney route. I made short work of the steep crack, but my sack inverted when I spied the little face out left. Not wanting to flame out in indecision, I plugged a red Camalot and spontaneously launched up right across a face and sloping ridge to another gutter system that might reach salvation. I knew right away I couldn't reverse the moves as I mantled up to a comfortable stance a few body-lengths above my last pro. I felt good and alive with the commitment.

Soon thereafter my heart sank. The gutter had nary a crack all the way to the exit point well above me. I spent a long time scraping in the dirt. At one point I pounded a tiny offset brassy into a seam with my nut tool, but it yanked easily in my hand. After the ear-to-chin finger pantomime, I could stall no more, scrape no more, and I had a choice to make: take the plunge, maybe 20 feet, or burl through. With little preamble, before I could talk myself out of it, I grabbed high with my left hand for a steep open-palmed gutter edge, and swung out right in a fully committing motion with no feet. Fortunately my hand stuck. I just hand-over-handed up the steepening gutter rail with smearing toes as I traversed out and up from my last pro. Eventually, I mantled onto the last hands-free stance near the top of the gutter system. Now my predicament took on an air of gravity. Just as before, there was naught for pro! My last gear was out of sight below, and a fall from here would be unthinkable. We're not talking sissy free-air bungee-jump, or weak-sauce slab slider. We're talking whoosh and boom-badda-boom face-smacking tumbler. I just had to sack up and get through the final ten feet to make sure that didn't happen. I took a few moments to compose myself and get my bearings, cool as a cucumber.

That last ten feet is almost vertical, smooth rock, with a pure sideways pull gutter edge and very oblique smooth wall for the barest of opposition. Pretty grim. The path to that is guarded by three desiccated hummocks barely clinging to imaginary vertical seams. Grimmer! But in a ray of salvation, I lean waaay out right and find a seam that opens to a small pocket for a single TCU placement. Excellent! I sink a piece, which looks decent for a downward fall, but it yanks from the flare easily when I pull straight out or up. I fiddle with it a few minutes, extending the sling to minimize rotation. I have no intention of testing this thing with my body, but it gives me the edge I need to go for the happy ending.

Deep breaths.... I reach high and dig two fingers into the top hummock, while pretending to side-cling another that I'm too afraid to touch. Hard gulp, leap of faith, I'm stepping up and onto another hummock, body now fully committed to this junk and terrified! I'm trying to stop my foot from shifting, but it keeps grinding out hummock powder on the ticking time bomb. Fricken' HOLD STILL! I can't release my death-claw from the top hummock, but I get the other up to a wide sideways pinch while pasting a toe out high and wide on nothing. I'm yarding up in powerful sideways opposition... death claws out of the hummock for the next reach... I'm maxed out and about to lose it and can't see what's next!!! Oh sh#t, back toward the hummocks *#* POP *#*

My right foot flies off in silence loud as thunder... I'm falling sideways, twisting, hand instinctively reaching for the cam to arrest my fall. Down, not out... my hand slides across the sling in a blur, I feel a brief jolt, and it rips out!!!!

This is it. I'm going big.

My mind is silent, no life flashing before my eyes.
Just silence. And waiting.
For an eternity, eyes pressed shut and waiting,
As I sail sideways in freefall.

Smack - CRUNCH
as the back of my helmet kisses the rock hard, I take a concussive impact right between my shoulder blades.
and I cleanly bounce away to more air....

Another eternity, sailing in who knows which direction.
Soaring free, spinning, and a solid crater impact.
But it's all fuzzy, mercifully spared the ugly details.

I'm laying on my back in an adjacent gully, head pointing up hill. The rope runs in a taut line straight from my harness to the red camalot about 25-30 feet above me. Quick body scan, wiggling toes and fingers. More deliberately, I bend my arms at the elbows and watch my fingers move one at a time, to make sure I can control them. I'm wheezing, back has got to be destroyed, better get off this pile before I pass out.

"Siiiiix feeeeet" I wheeze out weakly. I want to slither down to a tree where I can quickly build an anchor and rap while I'm conscious. Still laying on my back, I wheeze out again "siiiix feeeet" but le_bruce can't hear me. I feel kind of desperate, and try a few more times before he can understand through the backdrop of the roaring river.

I reach the tree, girth hitch a sling, and pull through enough slack for the brief rap to the ground without bothering to untie. I think le_bruce took care of things from there, helping me to drop the rack, slings, gatorade bottles dangling from my harness, vest laden with 2 days of adventure snacks, flip-flops, and whatever other crap was hanging on me. By this time I notice a burning in my fingers and see the skin flayed off the back of the first digits nearest the knuckles. My ring finger actually has no skin for a 270 degree arc! It reminds me of that story of Maurice Herzog in Annapurna, where he's rapping down the rope with his bare frozen hand and ribbons of skin are peeling off. It's hideous, but in a fascinating way. My other fingers on that hand aren't much better.

It's stunning, but I'm alive! My back and ribs are pretty beat up, but I'm walking and basically mobile! I lean over by the frigid river and give my hand a good soaking and cleaning until it's numb, which only takes about two seconds. I'm glad for the abundance of water as I continue to clean and numb it at intervals on the hike down.

After le_bruce cleans the pro and gathers up our stuff, including our first night bivy gear, it's clear he can't carry it all. He repacks his haul sack with the sleeping bags and light stuff, and I have to carry it. It's light, but it's still a chore for me. I'm still laboring to take deep breaths and moving in slow motion when trying to sit down or get up, and I wince as I open my arms to get through the pack straps, but I can do it. For the next two hours, we take it easy down the hill, with frequent pauses and careful traverses across the steep hanging dirt slopes, brushy forests, and monster talus fields where I grimace and slide from my butt down little drops where normally I would jump. Back at the car... my fingers are clean from the rivers, and the rope or sling burns seemed to cauterize the tissue where it burned through so there's no blood. My vision is good, no light-headedness, doesn't feel like my organs are bleeding out, so we forsake the stop by the medical clinic and just head home to the bay. In hindsight we should have done a pupil dilation test, but my head really felt fine. I decided to monitor myself on the trip home while le_bruce drove, and would go to the doctor if things went downhill. Well, today (a week later) I went to the doctor because the skin on my ring finger doesn't seem to be growing back, but the doc said it's healing fine. I've been putting hydrogen peroxide on it every day and keeping it covered, and a little pus-crust comes off each time, but the infection has been kept at bay. Now I'm switching to antibacterial ointment to minimize disruption to the new skin, to keep it wet, and keep the bandages from sticking so clean tissue can grow back.

I feel a little guilty that I'm not having more spiritual revelations about being alive. It's just a matter of fact thing that I flew through the air an astonishing distance with a couple of big smacks, and now here I am more than walking around. For sure I notice some things that ain't right in my body at the moment, but I cheated death and dismemberment, or a lifetime chair sentence. Why am I so lucky?

On the drive back with le_bruce, I was joking that maybe it was karma because just the day before, on the way out of town, I got a monster cashier's check and paid to reinstate my second house on the last day before it was sold in foreclosure. It had been a moral and pragmatic dilemma for me, whether I should back up my convictions with most of my worldly savings in the aftermath of a divorce. I could have easily walked away and been $110k richer with no more headaches. But it would have destroyed my credit, and I would have felt like I cheated. I don't have a perfect ethical record, but for the big things in life I think it matters to take a stand and define who you are, what you want to be in the world. So I decided that my integrity was more important than my savings account, and I don't regret it. I paid the backlog to clear the foreclosure, and am going through the process of getting it sold and paying the difference for the underwater mortgage. I found a way to pragmatically rationalize that it's a good financial decision too, because a few years from now when I want to buy a house, that $110k saved would buy me much less house than the loan I will be able to get against my income with decent credit. So my heart is light and clean, my savings account is light, and maybe I'm still alive because the dude upstairs saw that Iím trying to do the right thing.

Who knows. Sometimes terrible people seem to get all the lucky breaks, and sometimes good people lose and die horrible deaths or worse. All I know is there's no accounting for me coming out unscathed from a terrible fall, and I'll find some solace in believing that my commitment to do the right thing put a karmic mattress in that gully to catch me.


The business on Hourglass Left (general vicinity of our bivy spot):

4th Class downclimb to the left of Nottingham as we skirt the base toward Chockstone Chimney:

Our way is blocked by water, and we can't get up the chimney/cave roof even with a shoulder stand (see le_bruce back in the shadows):

This seems like the proper approach in a drier season:

Here's looking up "our" route:

It didn't look like much in person either, and foreshortening skews distance perspective. That big tree/bush sticking out of left wall up higher obscures the final gutter system I was climbing on when I fell. You can see the vertical crack area where I had my last pro that held.

Looking up from immediately below the vertical crack section... the pine tree waypoint from start of Chockstone Chimney may be up and left.

Working on my cover shot for "19th Century Furtrapper's Quarterly" (the pine tree from Chockstone Chimney in the background?):

Looking down from where I took the last 2 pictures, bottom of the crack. The red camalot that held me was about 8 feet above this, and I fell to 6 feet above the tree with lots of sticks showing in center left foreground. I had come up the ramp system straight from where le_bruce is in the right side of the picture. Sorry I didn't think to take pics after this!

During hike back to car, river was raging!

And it was generally a good adventure:

Back to the cars, gathering up goodies from the El Cap bear boxes, and taking in the alternate view from the bridge:

  Trip Report Views: 3,816
About the Author
nutjob is a climber from Berkeley, CA.

Some people call me the space cowboy yeah
Some call me the gangster of love
Some people call me Maurice
'Cause I speak of the pompetous of love

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Comment on this Trip Report

Trad climber
San Jose, CA
  May 16, 2011 - 01:26am PT
Damn! Glad to hear your ok man! Thanks for sharing this crazy experience with us.
Mike Bolte

Trad climber
Planet Earth
  May 16, 2011 - 01:28am PT
whew - great story nutjob. glad you are still with us.

El Presidio San Augustin del Tucson
  May 16, 2011 - 01:41am PT
Glad you're safe and sound.

And here I thought my day of bouganvilla eradication. was dicey.
Ed Hartouni

Trad climber
Livermore, CA
  May 16, 2011 - 01:47am PT
Scott, wow!
definitely glad you're still with us...

though it's too late now, that sort of trauma can lead to ruptured internal organs and internal bleeding, which could have been fatal had it happened... better to have had it checked out.

anyway, it's a good story and thanks for sharing it. Lots of lessons in there.

Sport climber
Almost to Hollywood, Baby!
Author's Reply  May 16, 2011 - 02:02am PT
Hi Ed, yeah I skipped the meat of the lessons to be learned section. Here's what I've come up with so far:
1. Don't let one's enthusiasm for the goal obscure one's judgment - be willing to abandon the plan and come back another day when conditions are more fortuitous. I've been slow to learn this lesson.
2. Pay attention to seasons when picking climbs (the first ascents there were in December (low water), not sure when other more recent ascents were done). I've been stung before on this one too!
3. Don't commit to irreversible moves when you can't see a place to put gear after that. This was kind of a new lesson for me.
4. When things look grim and it only looks like it will get grimmer, think hard before stringing it out farther. I've won the gambles here before, will take this issue more seriously going forward.
5. Don't try to grab gear when falling past it - intellectually I knew that, but this was the first case where I was really tested in the heat of battle. Maybe next time I'll be more cognizant
6. Carry a little hammer and a few pitons for emergency relief? That or even a bolt kit would have made this a non-issue. I'm not talking about bolting existing existing lines when I get scared, but just having a doomsday plan in place when I'm off the beaten track.

I'm sure more will bubble up...

Trad climber
Hustle City
  May 16, 2011 - 02:01am PT
Solid writing/adventure!
Ed Hartouni

Trad climber
Livermore, CA
  May 16, 2011 - 02:01am PT
Largo summed it up for me in one of his stories somewhere...

to paraphrase:

"You should only go for it if there is an it to go for"

East Bay, CA
  May 16, 2011 - 02:23am PT
This was a hard TR to read but harder not to read. Your writing is something else - a real gift. Thanks for the share of some of your state of mind at the time as well. Mostly, just relieved you are ok, and hope there's no lasting trauma!
Clint Cummins

Trad climber
SF Bay area, CA
  May 16, 2011 - 02:55am PT
Yikes. It sounds like you decked from a ways out - lucky to be still breathing; walking is a definite bonus.

Years ago, my friend Dennis told me about going out for the first time in the spring after a long winter. He went straight onto a dangerous lead. He managed to pull it off, but realized later that he would never have tried that if he hadn't been psyching himself up all winter.
I've done similar stuff myself, sort of like trying to make up for lost time. "Keep control of your enthusiasm", especially if you've been unable to climb for awhile.

I don't think the solution is about bringing unusual gear (hammer, pitons, drill).
With that stuff, you could be tempted to lead out into a situation where you can't stop to drill, or head up to some seam that doesn't take good pitons.
It's more about "reading" the situation and being willing to back off if the risk is getting out of control (i.e. your lesson #1).
Like not making moves that you can't reverse unless you are really sure you can get to good gear.

You get a second chance. We look forward to a less scary TR when you go back there in drier conditions.

Trad climber
Stockholm, Sweden
  May 16, 2011 - 02:56am PT
Excellent storytelling, you had me glued by the first couple of phrases and I was totally reliving your experience. You should be a writer, seriously.



A long way from where I started
  May 16, 2011 - 03:08am PT
That which doesn't kill you...

...doesn't kill you.

Which maybe isn't as good as making you stronger, but at least you're alive.

Heal well

Trad climber
Erik O. Auburn, CA
  May 16, 2011 - 03:29am PT
Nice report and reading! Heal up. Erik

Trad climber
Tunneling out of prison
  May 16, 2011 - 10:17am PT
Damn Scott, I am glad you are still here with us.


Trad climber
Save your a_s, reach for the brass...
  May 16, 2011 - 11:21am PT
Yikes, sounds like quite an experience. Nice writing. Glad you came out relatively unscathed! Be careful out there...

  May 16, 2011 - 11:29am PT
Thanks for the read. Glad to hear your ok and healing.


Big Wall climber
Terrapin Station
  May 16, 2011 - 12:05pm PT
HOLY SH*T!!!!!!!

Wow, dude that was gripping from waaay out here in NM.

Carry a little hammer and a few pitons for emergency relief? That or even a bolt kit would have made this a non-issue. I'm not talking about bolting existing existing lines when I get scared, but just having a doomsday plan in place when I'm off the beaten track.

Fukkin' A. I disagree with Clint in this instance. For well established routes where the knowns are known, fine, no need for shenanigans. But when tackling something further from the beaten path on an obscurity like that, a well placed pin has saved many a life.
Fuk the little hammer too. I like big ones.....

By the way nut, it was my ring finger that was mangled too.

What a story!!
Jay Wood

Trad climber
Land of God-less fools
  May 16, 2011 - 12:16pm PT
Does this mean a delay in those projects we talked about?

Glad your parts are all working. Heal up,

and thanks for the great write-up.


Trad climber
Seattle, WA
  May 16, 2011 - 01:04pm PT

As they all said up-post: Super riveting writing and I'm glad you're OK.

It sends shivers down my selfish spine thinking about all the times I've headed up, slightly off-route, an "inconsequential" approach pitch only to have it get too serious too quickly.

It's beautiful up there around Ribbon Falls, though, isn't it? Take care and mend.


Big Wall climber
Terrapin Station
  May 16, 2011 - 01:11pm PT
Nutjob, I also meant to say that I don't usually make time for so much text all at once, but your writing grabbed me from the first sentences. I'm sure glad I read it!!

That tale deserves to be read a whole bunch.

I hope your whole body smash heals faster than my one finger smash.

Trad climber
Upland, CA
  May 16, 2011 - 01:12pm PT

Thank God you are OK. What a terrifying tale.

I once made a similar bad error of judgement and took a long and bad fall. Unlike you, I went straight to the Valley Medical Clinic, as I had accidently left my helmet in the car, and the head impact was pretty bad.

Looking back on why I made the choices I made that day, I decided that a big contributing factor was not being really present on the climb. There had been a great stress in my life for a while. The stress had me feeling somewhat distracted all the time. After that fall, I realized that what I really needed was to sit still and meditate for a while, to let time take it's course and heal the wounds which were present before I went climbing as "business as usual".

You have been under some huge stressors for a while now. When you have so much on your mind, the dangers of the sharp end are accentuated.

Take care, Phyl

Trad climber
Lake Tahoe
  May 16, 2011 - 01:42pm PT
Really glad you're okay.

San Jose, CA
  May 16, 2011 - 05:01pm PT
I was imagining what you felt before your fall. Thanks for sharing , good writing and glad that you walking OK -after ~60feet ground fall. This is miracle . Is red camelot took part of your weight ?

Gym climber
  May 16, 2011 - 05:28pm PT
My first thought on seeing a long TR with no pictures was to be disappointed. Having read it, thanks for the no pictures!

And thanks for posting this. Speedy recovery and may your eight remaining lives last you.

  May 16, 2011 - 06:34pm PT
Woah Scott,
All week long since I heard about this I've been thinking about it. Having climbed with you I knew you must of been off route and way the hell out on some scary garbage. I am so glad you walked away from this thing. Thanks for the report. Heal up and we'll go climb something way easier.
Ezra Ellis

Trad climber
North wet, and Da souf
  May 16, 2011 - 10:13pm PT
Thanks for writing,
your writing is great,
Glad you are ok Nut Job!
M. Volland

Trad climber
Grand Canyon
  May 17, 2011 - 01:22am PT
I can't wait to see the TR when you get back up there and send the chimney.

Trad climber
The pitch of Bagalaar above you
  May 17, 2011 - 01:41am PT
Glad to hear you are relatively unscathed.

When it goes bad, it usually goes really bad.

Great writing and the Karma correlation is spot on in my book.



Gym climber
berkeley, ca
  May 17, 2011 - 02:19am PT
Hey, Scott....thanks for sharing. How goes your recovery a week+ out? I hope the skin is coming back nicely and the head is there sortly. Congrats too btw on your personal/financial life choices and keeping your word, even if it's to not-so-worthy banks. Any chance you can post the photo of where you started climbing in the comments?

Trad climber
Portland, OR
  May 17, 2011 - 02:22am PT
wow, so glad you are ok!

your writing is exceptional, I was totally riveted, even feeling nervous even when I was just reading...

hope the healing/resting is going ok...

Sport climber
Almost to Hollywood, Baby!
Author's Reply  May 19, 2011 - 03:22pm PT
I added some pics to the end of the story. Healing update: the bruises are disappearing, but tailbone is still pretty sore and still sensitive on part of my ribs. Finger skin is healing remarkably fast now. Still consider myself pretty darn lucky!

Thanks for all the well wishes, folks. It's comforting :)
scuffy b

heading slowly NNW
  May 19, 2011 - 08:18pm PT
"and it was generally a good adventure"

You have an amazing positive spirit, Scott.

Trad climber
Northern California
  May 19, 2011 - 11:02pm PT
Bump for the awesome TR! Good to hear you're still alive.

Gym climber
sawatch choss
  May 27, 2011 - 04:52am PT
The Chockstone Chimney scores another one!

Don't listen to the people telling you 'you should be a writer.' Just keep writing.


Social climber
Wolf City, Wyoming
  May 27, 2011 - 11:05am PT
I finally had time to read this. Sheesh, Scott.

Come out to the desert, I have work, invoving new routes, for you!

Why die on a chestnut in bad condition?
Jay Wood

Trad climber
Land of God-less fools
  May 27, 2011 - 12:21pm PT
Zander wrote:

"Having climbed with you I knew you must of been off route and way the hell out on some scary garbage."

That's harsh, dude. LOL

  May 27, 2011 - 12:33pm PT
Ha ha Jay,
Actually it is the opposite. My engleesh no Be good, brah.

Contrary to what you might think reading Scott's TRs, he climbs carefully, puts in a lot of pro, conservative by any measure. He's a combination of launching himself at adventure but then being kinda reasonable once he gets it

Because I knew this I knew that to take a big fall like he did he must have unintentionally got himself in trouble, trouble he couldn't back out of.

Hey Scott, I hope I'm not letting out all your secrets, man!



Trad climber
  Nov 27, 2012 - 03:35am PT
Wow!! Glad you survived in one piece. Definitely better to place a piton or bolt than to die.

Trad climber
AKA Dwain, from Apple Valley, Ca. and Vegas!
  Nov 27, 2012 - 03:51am PT
Just saw this Nutjob.

Thank God you are alright.

Gym climber
sawatch choss
  Apr 30, 2014 - 07:22pm PT
Bump for seasonal good times.

Trad climber
South Pasadena, CA
  Apr 30, 2014 - 07:46pm PT
WOO HOO! It is spring, and Yosemite is pregnant with possibilities.

I might have to make a pilgrimage in the next month. Hmmm.... Boulderfield Gorge? Watkins Pinnacles? Middle Brother to Eagle Peak? I'll have to stew on it a bit. I am one lucky dude though.

Social climber
  Apr 30, 2014 - 07:46pm PT
Bump for great content. Glad you are still among us.

Trad climber
Oaksterdam, CA
  May 1, 2014 - 02:05am PT
missed this one first time around- wicked share!

did you deal with any shell shock the next time you went out climbing?

Trad climber
South Pasadena, CA
  May 1, 2014 - 01:05pm PT
Well, yeah. A few weeks after that, we went up to try Hourglass Right. That was a bit stiff of a reintroduction. I wasn't totally healed up yet, but fairly close. I balked at the moment of commitment, launching above the hanging tree as you shuffle up in a weirdly leaning OW arm-bar powerfest. Here's a trip report from le_bruce for that:

I haven't done tons of climbing since this, but I would say it still affects my judgment, makes me more cautious about committing to stuff. That may also be because my climbing time comes in spurts, and the last few years I've been on a low cycle, little time on the rock to reacquire comfort on the sharp end.

Sport climber
  May 1, 2014 - 01:12pm PT
Great TR and photography. Watching the photos gives a "reality feeling", almost like participating as a climber...
Burnin' Oil

Trad climber
  Oct 31, 2016 - 09:16pm PT
Bumping a TR I missed the first time around.

Trad climber
South Pasadena, CA
  Nov 1, 2016 - 09:42am PT
It's not as raw for me now....
But it's a very good reminder that our days here are numbered,
and I should treat every one like the gift that it is.
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