Page 41 - Oasis in the Sky

at Enchanted Rock State Park. I was climbing with my climbing partner, Eddy
Koch and our mutual climbing friend, Tim White. The three of us had trained
together under international climber Scott Harris and his organization Moun-
tain Madness. I was “lead climbing,” which means that I was placing my “pro-
tection” as I climbed. I was about five feet from the top of the climb and about
thirty-five feet above the ground. I had placed six pieces of protection to that
point. Falling is a normal part of climbing, and I had previously fallen at my
fourth piece. As usual, the protection held, and I simply hung at the end of the
rope.
At my position thirty-five feet high and standing above my sixth piece of
protection, I knew I was coming off the rock, and I took measures not to entan-
gle my foot in the rope as I fell—I wanted to fall cleanly and under control. As
I began to fall, I was calm and controlled, and I called out to Eddy, my belayer
(the guy who holds the other end of the rope), “FALLING!” as all good climbers
do. He yelled back, “Okay, I’ve gotcha!” I positioned myself for the expected
tightening of the rope that would swing me in against the cliff face, but that life-
saving event never occurred.
Instead of the rope coming tight with me hanging at the end, my sixth and
fifth pieces of protection successively blew out of the granite. Hikers across the
ravine on another hill recalled hearing the explosive popping of the protection
out of the granite. I plummeted thirty-five feet onto the solid granite floor of
Enchanted Rock.
The pain was excruciating, and I was never blessed with the relief of los-
ing consciousness. For several moments I screamed, but nobody could hear the
desperate agony of my cries because there was no air in my lungs, and my ap-
parent silence added to my friends’ fear for my condition as they checked me
over for broken bones and spinal damage. Finally, my wind returned, and the
guys could clearly hear my wailing complaints of pain in my right shoulder,
right side, and lower back. Even the slightest movement caused unbearable pain.
After about half an hour, which gave me time to try control my reaction to the
pain, and gave Eddy and Tim time to pack our gear, I felt capable of trying to
walk out of there to get help at a hospital. As I stood up, I muffled a cry, shak-
ily balanced myself, and took a faltering step, biting off a scream. The next step
was on my right foot, and I almost blacked out from the agony detonating in my
right hip and exploding outward through my lungs and vocal cords. At that point,
there was no doubt about my serious need for medical help. I was not going to
be able to walk out. Eddy dropped his pack and started runing for the rangers’
station two miles away. My only option was to drop right where I stood, and I
cried out several times as I slumped to the ground, my cries finally ending in sobs
of pain.
Tim remained with me. My cries had attracted other climbers and hikers in

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Oasis in the Sky
Oasis in the Sky