A day of three (or more) strikes.
I’ve been wanting to rappel Donut Falls this winter. It’s a mile or two snowshoe into the falls, then a steep but easy scramble up to set an anchor from trees. About 30′ down a snow slope to the hole, then another 20′ through and into an ice cavern with a walk out exit.
I rappelled the falls last year or the year before… Cannot recall. It was February, but it had been warm and the ice curtain inside the cavern was down. It was a wet rappel, but normal, waterproof ski gear kept me dry.
I visited the falls last weekend with my family, and the ice was a complete column from the hole, with the center being hollow. The thickness of the column wall was about 14 – 18 inches. There was also an opening large enough to rappel through on one side. Enticing. I made invitations for the next day. Skunked. Set it again for the following weekend, hoping the ice would remain.
I mentioned three strikes. I know you’ll see many more.
Strike one. Friday the 8th arrives. Everyone who had talked the good talk for Saturday bails. For some, the third time. I choose to go. Alone. I know… I know… Strike one.
I leave the house early. It’s dark. I arrive at the trailhead at 7:05 am. It’s empty. I have a clean trail with 6″ of fresh snow to myself. It’s beautiful. I see no one anywhere. Strike one and a half.
The cavern is easily accessed from below. I enter to check the ice. The sound of the waterfall is loud. Some of the ice has gone, the column now a 280 degree enclosure compared to the full 360 a week before. I know nothing of ice. Strike two. I lean slightly on the 10′ ice column, thinking little of it’s size or weight or position or the running water behind it, or, well… Anything. What was I thinking? “Yeah, looks solid.” Stupid. Strike two.
I leave gear outside the mouth at my sled and take what I need to rig and rappel up the slope. I’m careful, aware that a fuck up with the exposure would be risky. The exposure is limited on one side, but the other would send you down the mouth of the donut hole like Lando Calrissian at the Sarlacc Pit in Return of the Jedi. I imagine I just lost two of you with that. I make it to the tree anchors. Strike two and a half, I do not clip in while setting the anchor. Felt secure. Didn’t feel the dumb. I didn’t slip, but an unnecessary risk.
Time to watch the film, then continue reading.
Fast forward to 1:25 if you wish, which provides context for strike three.
I rappel down the slope easily. My crampons are sticking well. The snow is knee deep and I’m making certain it’s stable by kicking as I go to see if anything will fly off while I am still above it. Once below, I consider the possibility of it sliding me into the funnel ala Winnie the Pooh visiting rabbit’s house. Without the option for waiting to lose weight after becoming stuck.
The opening looks large and clear. I descend, transitioning into free hang and avoiding the spray. It is loud moving from open air into enclosed space. Water echoes in a low rumble. I slide beside the ice column, and make a choice. I’ll rotate and walk down the column. there is no good reason to do this. But I do. Strike three. Four steps later, the half-car sized column falls. It it thunderous loud. I am quiet. I slide down the remaining 10′ to the ground. I believe my weight created leverage on ice, and the column broke at attachment point above, which I believe was weakened by water at the upper lip of the hole. I am glad I was not underneath it when it went. Sobering. Lucky. Made me recall an article I had read earlier in the week on risk:
http://www.adventure-journal.com/2013/03/in-defense-of-taking-risks/
So, what of risk? Is death an acceptable cost of adventures? Hell, no. Brendan Leonard and I happened to be talking about risk yesterday, before the Times piece came out, and he said, “When I go out there, number one is to come back alive, number two is to have fun, and number three is to make the summit.” Seriously, death from recreation should not be considered okay, an option, or consequence. It’s a possibility, yes. And probably a greater possibility skiing in the backcountry than playing beach volleyball. But to accept it as a price of physical freedom is the beginning of an erosion in personal responsibility and the first mistake in a chain of decisions or assumptions that can lead to real problems.
Strike three and a half? After checking for additional loose ice (because I’m an ice expert now, dontchaknow) I continued to lap the route three more times. And then tobogganed all of the downhill sections back to the car.
How many more strikes can you count?
