A Forceful Slam: Part 1

We decided to get one last climb in before heading out of the canyon for end-of-the-day adult beverages. Little did I know, we should have just left and grabbed those drinks.

I tied in, checked my knot and reviewed my belayer’s setup. We agreed that our systems were set—I left the ground, dedicated to sending the route.

Muscles tired from the previous few routes, and getting a bit confused by the movement dictated by the climb, I fell at the crux. My belayer caught the short fall without incident and I started pulling back onto the wall. Setting my hands and feet just right, I yelled "climbing" to my belayer. That was his cue to give me a little slack as I unweighted the rope. Nearing the chains after two-hanging the route, I realized that I was too exhausted to clip the anchor. "I'm too blown to make the clip!" I yelled. "I'm just going to fall.” Confirming that was the plan, my belayer stood ready to catch the whipper.

In an instant I was airborne, flying down the chalk-stained granite wall. I recall a slight tug of the rope—normally the precursor to the rope tightening and leaving me dangling in midair—but this time that wasn't the case. I kept falling. Thirty feet later, SLAM! With force, I hit a flat pillar that seemed to be strategically placed by the hand of the Lord to break my fall and save me from falling another 30 feet to the ground.

Shocked by what happened, neighboring climbers rushed to my aid. I attempted to lay completely still in case there was any serious damage to my neck or spine. Luckily, I was uninjured except for a few bruises that would later tattoo their presence on my left leg and butt cheek. It was time to get out of there, and I was most definitely passing on those drinks.

I was basically uninjured physically—but my mental state was a very different issue. I kept thinking, “What the fuck just happened?” It didn't make any sense to me. Yes, climbing is inherently a dangerous sport, but your belayer is supposed to catch you, every time. That's just part of the deal.

I did my best to “walk it off” and never went to the hospital for testing. Just some heat pads, cold compress, a tube of arnica all for the bruising and pain … and most definitely revisiting those drinks to ease my mind.

That fall really messed me up, mentally. I was forced to face new challenges in my life that I just didn't expect.

In Part 2, I’ll focus on the 16 months that followed this incident, as I was forced to encounter some taxing times with climbing, just to have it all come into place on a Tuesday afternoon.

...To be continued.