I can’t breathe!

I try to stand but only collapse back to the ground. My ears ringing and my vision darkening at the edges, I can barely comprehend frantic screams for help. I’m not sure who it is. It doesn’t really matter.

“Fuck, what happened?”

I do my best to look up, up to where I was, where I should be. Nothing. Everything was on the ground. And so was I.
 
Fading in and out of consciousness, I remain in what I can only describe as a dream. Awoken only by waves of pain running down my spine.
 
“Is this how I go? Is this how it ends?”
 
I awoke in a state of terror; beads of sweat cascading down my face, my head stuck to the pillow. No one had bothered to clean the blood off my head. The systematic beep of the hospital room instruments snapped me back to reality. I was sick of having this dream. I quickly grabbed the control and activated another dose of morphine to try and ease the frustration. It didn’t work.
 
Five days ago I was flown to a small hospital in Santa Fe with five fractures in my thoracic spine, T3 to T7 to be exact. Lying in the bed of my room, still not able to breathe under my own power, the doctor’s words played over and over again in my head like a bad song stuck on repeat. “You should be dead, kid.”

Death. At least death would be unknown, an easier reality to accept than watching your passion quickly slip through your fingers from the seat of a wheel chair.
 
I wasn’t sure what to say. We both knew I got lucky. I tried to shift in my back brace until a surge of pain throughout my body forced me to lay motionless in the dented mattress.
 
That afternoon I left the hospital in a Wheelchair. Walking felt too big a challenge. At home I dug out a picture of the Alaska Range from my desk drawer and pinned it up on my wall. Determined.
 
The picture was my motivation, my inspiration to never give up. To fight.
 
Recovery became my world. Day in, day out, I became obsessed. For what seemed like an eternity, I could barely muster the strength to climb onto an exercise bike, my hard shell back brace made achieving any degree of comfort impossible. My only tool for holding on to my motivation: the picture.
I taped the picture to the front of the bike while I pedaled for hours on end. I lost myself in the picture. I imagined the day I would once again swing my tools into deep blue ice or watch the sunrise from an exquisite alpine ridge. Soon. 
 
I snapped on my crampons under a moonlight night beneath the steep snow slope beneath the Moose’s Tooth in the Ruth Gorge of the Central Alaska Range. I took a moment to reflect on the three years and the long fight it took to get here. I couldn’t help but chuckle.
 
​“Climb on.”
 
Moving together, we make our way up the initial fifty-degree slow slope toward the couloir proper. The slope dead-ended at the first of the route’s challenges, a short but sweet mixed corner. Rated at YDS 5.6 the corner went smoothly. Switching between hands and tools, I glanced over my shoulder and was treated to a beautiful Alaska sunrise. I picked up the pace, hoping to make it to the belay and snap a photograph of my partner before the soft light disappeared.

​With the first of the technical challenged behind us, Garon and myself returned to moving together up five hundred of fifty-degree firm snow. I yelled up at Garon, “We’re making great time!”  We weren’t concerned about time, we had plenty of that, there was just no containing my elation.
 
“Looks like a piece of cake from here.”
 
I was wrong. The crux pitch thin and rotten, capped by an overhanging roof that was more than snow. I tested it with my ice tool. It sheared through like warm butter. My anxiety began to build. I looked down, I was 20 feet above my piece of protection, a 10cm long ice screw in questionable ice. There’s no way it would hold. Getting hurt out here was not an option.
 
Out of the corner of my eye I spotted safety. A rusty piton.
 
With no other options I attached myself to out dated piece of steel and began to scan the sequence above. I had to go for it. There were no other options for aid climbing. I worked in a micro-sized nut of questionable holding strength below the piton. I suppose two mediocre pieces is better than one.  At least one was holding my weight.
 
I took a deep breath, clipped the rope to both pieces of protection and began to delicately move my way upward, using as much rock as possible as to not dislodge the weakening bulge and send it plummeting downward, potentially colliding with Garon below. With a few precise and controlled moves I found myself standing on top of the bulge, and on good ice. A quick sigh of relief and I continued to the anchor above. We didn’t want to waste any time.

Swing, swing, kick, kick. It went on forever. Losing ourselves in the rhythmic motion of climbing frozen water we enjoyed pitch after pitch we progressed our way through the narrow gully for the upper route. Battling the falling ice released by the sun warming the slopes above, we embraced alpine climbing at it’s fullest. In the blink of an eye we were treated to views of the entire Central Alaska Range. Denali almost looked small. Almost.

 ​“Let’s get going. We’ve got a lot of rappels to do.” 

​Time seemed to slow as we approached flat ground. Relishing in the euphoria of completing such a life long goal. I couldn’t help but my let my rappel back up take the weight and take a moment to contemplate the last few years, the long fight it took to get from laying in a hospital bed immobilized with a neck and back brace to returning to the arena that allows me to push myself physically and mentally and go beyond what I think I can do. I though about the picture, my motivation to fight, to never give up.
 
“Off rappel.” 

During the Zugspitz Ultratrail Run, I shadowed Medical Crew GbR, a medical response group that oversees planning for medical operations. They work alongside and coordinate with other teams like mountain patrol, mountain rescue services, emergency services and the event organizers.

“It is important that we all work very close together” explains Matthias Hoeter, managing director of Medical Crew. “The main goal is to provide the quickest possible emergency and general health care to the event participants at any time and in any terrain.”

Runners may not be fully aware of how much time, dedication and preparation goes into assuring their safety and well-being. Pre-race setup for Medical Crew is about two days. But preparation for any single event begins much earlier. Claudius Wurm, also managing director, personally runs the courses to gain perspective on the challenges that will face runners and identify difficult race sections. Based on this, he strategically plans where to stage equipment and higher level medical personnel to have expertise and supplies in the right locations.

If you’re thinking that once the race starts at 5am, the crew sits back waiting for something to happen - think again. There is always something happening in the medical coordination tent, from 5am to about 9:30am the next day. According to Matthias, “Our tasks during the event consist of the mobile operation centre in the start and finish area, mobile rescue and first aid station in the finish area, general health and emergency care on the course through mobile crews and the coordination of emergency response”.  For Matthias and Claudius, it’s 24+ hours of a phone in one hand and radio in the other with at least twenty things to do and fifty more decisions to make. Cups full of coffee substitute for fluffy pillows and a good night’s sleep. Over the course of the race, Medical Crew will respond to an average of 800-1000 calls. ​

The total elevation gain for the Zugspitz Ultratrail Run was 5,412 vertical meters. As night fell, the weather made a turn for worse with torrents of rain and low temperatures, increasing the suffer scale. Just part of the game, isn’t it? To suffer and push on. High tolerance for suffering is one of the many aspects that make a runner. Like runners, tolerance for suffering also marks the wilderness medical provider. Not every medical provider can handle such weather extremes, terrain complexities, physical demands, and sole patient responsibility. It’s what makes the people of Medical Crew, mountain rescue, ski patrol, and park rangers so unique.
So the next time you sign up for an organized trail event, remember to think of the medical team that has your safety in mind. It is often a thankless job - maybe you can thank the next one you see.

As always, stay safe and enjoy many adventures from your friends at Base Medical.
Written by Teal Brooks, Base Medical CEO and Wilderness Paramedic

Medical Crew GbR and more information can be found at: http://www.medical-crew.com/WordPress/ 
​ 

I just returned from yet another satisfying trip to Smith Rock State Park. This time however,  instead of setting my sights on working through the grades of this unique area, I assumed the role of a client to assist a fellow guide preparing for his Rock Guide Course with the American Mountain Guide’s Association. To work on systems in a multi pitch setting, we decided on the 5 pitch bolted classic, 'Wherever I May Roam'. It’s conservative bolting, short pitches and 5.9 grade make this climb one of most popular moderate climbs in the area. At each belay, the sounds of confusion and frustration from the close by series of rappel stations became worrisome. Repeated off route excursions revealed over complicated systems and practices contradictory to standard safety practices. As a mountain guide I take great pride in keeping people safe in technical terrain. Rarely do I intervene unless I see potential for catastrophic failure. However, I would like to take the time to share a few simple tricks to increase your efficiency and safety while rappelling in hopes of preventing future accidents.

The Extension: The concept is simple, extend your belay loop. It can be a pain to have your rappel device of choice on your standard belay loop and have to manage rope. It can be awkward. By essentially extending you belay loop you place your belay device in a position of comfort, increasing control. This also has the added benefit of allowing you to place your friction hitch of choice back up on your belay loop instead of awkwardly placing it on your leg loop (which is not the best safety practice).

Step 1: Take a double length nylon runner and girth hitch it through both of the tie in points of your harness. Just like you would to tie in with a rope. Be sure and aim to have the bar tack toward the top 5 inches of the sling once the hitch is complete so it doesn't interfere with the following step. 

Step 2: There are several different ways to do this next step. I like to bring the end back toward my harness and tie an overhand on a bite (see photo.) This is your new "belay loop." It is what you are going to clip your belay device into. 

Step 3: Clip a locking carabiner into the loop at the end. This is now your personal anchor you will clip into your anchor discussed in the following section. 

Step 4: Before you put yourself on rappel, attach your friction hitch of choice to the rope. I prefer the autoblock, clip it to a locking carabiner on your original belay loop and pull some rope through. The friction hitch will grab the rope and leave you with an unweighted section of rope to put through your device. Tip: If you end up rappelling on two ropes of different color tied together, clip your tether into the rope that needs to be pulled to help you remember. After you are on rappel, of course. 
​
Anchor: Every rappel station in a multiple rappel scenario is different. Some large amount of nylon webbing or accessory cord, or some bolts and chains. You may have a combination of both. Regardless of what the situation may be, at the beginning stages of the descent you need to connect yourself to said anchor to take yourself off or rappel. One thing I witnessed on this particular trip was the individual climbers on rappel clipped into one bolt with some form of a Personal Anchor System or PAS (I also see this a lot with cleaning sport climbs.) Yes, you are secure in some sense but consider this: You are only clipped into a single piece of protection. If it fails, you die. Would you do that on the way up? Probably not. People often think that bolts will never fail. This quite far from true. The danger with bolted protection is there is a significant amount of the bolt inside the rock and you simple can’t judge the status of the metal unless you remove it completely. 

Here is what I normally do. If I have pre-tied quad anchor (see below) I will just clip that to the bolted anchors. The quad is nice since there will be eventually be 2 people hanging on the anchor so not pulling on each other can be nice. If I do not have a quad on me I will simply use a double length runner and create a magic x with limiter knots and clip into that. Once the anchor is in place I continue rappelling until the anchor is weighted. Once I am confident there are no issues, I take myself off of rappel. 
​

As with any new system it is crucial that you practice these techniques on the ground in a controlled environment before applying them in a real world scenario. 

If anyone has any questions please do not hesitate to contact me at Adamskerr@yahoo.com 

Be safe. Have fun. 

You hear it all the time. "Fast and light, "light and fast" or "going light." For most, this idea can be nothing more than hope as you find yourself lugging your gear to your intended high camp, your packing weighing you down and biting into your shoulders as  you continually contemplate the contents of your pack and what made it so heavy.

Packing for any alpine climb can be a challenging endeavor. We as alpine climbers are constantly trying to refine our systems in order to get closer the point where comfort becomes pain without crossing the line, at which point safety and fun become effected.

We often bring too much into alpine environments. Understandably, It makes us feel safe. I see it all too often in the mountains. Climbers trudging their way to their camp with packs the size of a small person with what looks to be their entire closet strapped to the outside for only a few hours of tossing and turning.

Over the years as a mountain guide I have learned what I need, what I might need and what is totally useless. Pictured below is my pack, including guiding gear, for a 2 day guided ascent (the most common itinerary for climbers both independent and guided) on Mt. Shasta. My planned itinerary is the Hotlum-Bolam ridge with a unique variation that features low 5th class climbing on what I have found to be the only solid rock on the mountain before reaching the summit plateau. I hope that a review of the contents, weighing in at a mere 32 pounds at the trailhead, will help you decide what to take and what to leave behind. 

"The key to a the perfect kit is versatility." - Steve House

1. Puffy: I have separated my outer insulating layer, often referred to as a "puffy" from the rest of my clothing systems as it one of the bigger variations for me depending on the month of the year and the mountain I am on. During the peak climbing season on Mt. Shasta between May and July I will take something equivelant to the Black Diamond Hot Forge Hoody. During the colder winter months I will opt for something similar to the Black Diamond Stance Belay Parka. I do tend to run warmer than most so this layer may change depending on your body. If you tend to run colder, I recommend something similar to the Black Diamond Cold Forge Hoody. If you are in wetter environments or are expecting fowl weather, consider something with synthetic insulation. 

2. Sleeping Pad: I hate having a big foam pad sicking off my pack. It gets wet, gets in the way and gets stuck on everything when in a technical environment. 3/4 length is really all you need. I happen to be 5'11 and have a pad roughly 50in in length. To keep my feet off the cold ground i will simply put my backpack at the bottom of sleeping pad. You are already carrying your pack, make it more than something to just carrying all of your stuff in.

3. Advanced Medical Kit: This lives in the bottom of my pack. I never take it out unless I plan on using it. There is nothing fancy about it. It is a stock mountain medical kit by Adventure Medical Kits. It has everything I need for advanced, long term medical care. Broken bones, large lacerations, dislocations and severe cold weather injuries. I keep a smaller medical kit for minor injuries, blisters, headaches etc.

4. Jetboil: for small groups (2 people) and one night there is no need to bring an elaborate cooking set up. They take up a lot of space and more importantly, they are heavy. Remember, pounds equal pain. Any canister stove works. The great thing about these stoves is all of the parts can be stored inside of the pot component. The most popular are the MSR Reactor and the Jetboil. That being said, larger groups of 3 or more can benefit from a more elaborate stove and pot system to allow for greater efficiency in cooking and water making. As far as fuel goes, 4 ounces per person per day is a a safe amount if you are melting snow for water. 

5. Guide Notebook: Not everyone needs to carry something this elaborate. However, having emergency contact numbers, a map of the local area and the weather forecast in some sort of weatherproof container like a ziplock bag can be a life saver. I will often add key GPS coordinates of the area I am operating in should I need them and not have access to my electronic devices. It's weightless and well worth it. 

6. Sunglasses and Buff: You need to have high quality sunglasses in any alpine environment. Anything that lets 15% or less light through the lens is sufficient. If your eyes are sensitive to light or glare consider getting a darker lens. I tend to sweat a lot so having a sunglass with some sort of ventilation is key for me. I have been using the Julbo Pipeline for some time now and couldn't be happier. A buff is a key piece of gear in mountain environments and I often think of a buff and sunglasses as a system. They bother sun and wind protection and I always have both on. Unless it's dark.  ​

Imagine this, you and your climbing partner just finished an amazing multi-pitch climbing route. The view from the top is breath taking, but you know better than to stay too long. The sun will set in a couple hours and many rappels are required to get back down to the base of the climb and hike out. Everything is going smoothly until you realize that you have rappelled past the next anchor point. You can see it about 20 feet above you. What is the best and safest way to get back up to this anchor point? Do you know what to do?

In the video above, rock climbing guide, Kerr Adams demonstrates exactly how a climber should handle such a situation. The answer? Transition your rappel system into an ascending system. This is the safest method of ascending back up to an anchor and can be applied in other scenarios as well. 

The concept of switching from rappel to ascend may seem simple enough, but the actual process of how to go about this transition needs attention, especially because it can be dangerous if not done correctly. After all, if you are on rappel, you are probably high off the ground and a fall could be catastrophic. But before we begin to explain Kerr's process of how to safely switch to ascending the rope, be sure you know how to safely rappel. Kerr explains and demonstrates a safer way of rappelling in this blog post here. 

Equipment you will need and should already have on your harness:
-3 to 4 locking carabiners
-10 foot cordelette 
-rappel/belay device with a rigger loop (like the Black Diamond ATC Guide) 

Here's how to transition from rappel to ascend in 9 easy steps:

Step 1. Lock off your extended, hands free back up rappel system. (again, learn how to do this here). Tie a back up knot below your belay device and clip this into your belay loop with a locking carabiner.  Why your belay loop instead of your leg loop like you see others doing? Because this is what the belay loop of your harness is designed to do, to hold weight, sudden weight. A leg loop is not designed to do this and may actually cause you to invert. 

Step 2. Now that your hands can be completely free of your rappel device and you have a back up incase it fails, tie a fiction hitch above the belay device with the long cordelette. Kerr's suggests using a Klemheist, but if you prefer another fiction hitch, like a prusik, that is okay too. Whatever you use, just be sure you know how to tie before hand. This is why practice is so important. Messing up this friction hitch could be dangerous. After tying the friction hitch, you should have two long strands of cordelette.

Step 3. Take one strand of cordelette and tie an overhand on a bight to make a loop. Clip this loop into your belay loop with a locking carabiner. Again, same reasoning here for using the belay loop instead of your leg loop.

Step 4. With the other strand, tie an overhand on a bight to create a foot loop. It's easier if this loop is bigger. 

Step 5. Attach a locking carabiner to the metal rigger loop of the belay device. The goal is to clip this carabiner into the belay loop as well. But this is difficult to do when the rope system is weighted and there are no safety backs up. This is why we have the long cordelette attached with a friction hitch, it helps us unweight the system while also providing safety. 

Step 6. Unweight the system by standing up on the foot loop. Connect the carabiner on the rigger loop of the belay device to the belay loop of your harness. Now your belay device is in autoblocking mode. You are almost ready to start ascending. 

Step 7. Clean up the system. Remove any unnecessary attachments. This will help make ascending smoother. 

Step 8. Ascend the rope by standing up on the foot loop and pulling slack through the belay device. Sit back into your harness to unweight the friction hitch. Move the friction hitch up the rope and stand up on it again. Pull slack through the belay device. Repeat this step to move up the rope but be sure to. do step 9 as you ascend. 

Step 9. As you ascend, slack grows between your back up knot and the belay device. Re-tie this back up knot every 6 feet. 

If you have never done this before, you may see these 9 steps as overwhelming. For safety and to throughly explain this transition process, we felt it necessary to break it down step by step. However, as you can see, Kerr makes the entire process look fluid and not so complicated. For you to also get to this point practice is essential. Using this process for the first time in a real and potentially serious situation is not ideal. Practice a few feet off the ground at your local climbing wall.

Knowing how to safely rappel, how to safely ascend a rope, and how to safely transition from rappel to ascend are basic to climbing self rescue and avoiding trouble. Other basic techniques include carrying the right equipment on your harness, knowing how to tie and use prusiks or other friction hitches, how to escape a belay, and how to safely secure an injured climber. 

Read about what Kerr packs when he is mountaineering here.