Biggest Epic? Scariest Moment?

[xxnitsuaxx]

The slew of disaster stories has gotten me thinking - what have been y'alls scariest moments canyoneering\what have been your biggest epics?

My scariest moment was on my very first canyon in Englestead. For the first rap, we had a 300 foot Imlay rope and two climbing ropes tied together for a pull cord. We were at the top of the first rap and one of my friends was about to get off rappel. Kenny, her boyfriend, had clipped into the webbing on the tree and he leaned out to get a look at her. Unbeknown to any of us, Kenny had actually clipped into the webbing tail that was tucked up underneath the rest of it. As he was leaning out he commented on how high up we were and then said "honestly Baird, I have no idea what I'd do if I fell from up here". 5 seconds later the webbing pulled free and he fell backwards off the top. I jumped for him but my sling held me back. As he fell, he hit that ledge about 20 feet down, which flipped him right-side up and tangled his arm in the pull cord. I jumped behind the tree and grabbed the double fisherman's knot we had used to tie the ropes. Kenny fell 180 feet before he was able to get both hands on the rope and stop himself. He stopped himself right at a knot that had somehow appeared in the pull cord. Even though his sling was mostly melted through he was able to clip into a loop in the knot. A friend came and we held onto the pull cord until we could get a draw clipped into the pull cord and then into the anchor. Kenny then pulled an atc and biner up on the 300 footer, unclipped from his sling, and finished the rappel. He escaped with some bad burns on his hands, shoulder, and ankles and we all finished the canyon promising to stick to Xbox from then on. Best quote from the whole story - Kenny screamed what is colloquially known as "The F Word" as he fell off the top and my friend Taylor (who had a walkie talkie down below) told us (while Kenny was still on the rope) "You know...I don't think I want my last words to be the F word. If that happened to me, I'd yell something like " 'Stay in schoooolll...' " I'm hesitant to share my epic story, because I've read Shane's Sandthrax story and I don't think that thing can be topped.

[ratagonia]

The slew of disaster stories has gotten me thinking - what have been y'alls scariest moments canyoneering\what have been your biggest epics?

My scariest moment was on my very first canyon in Englestead. For the first rap, we had a 300 foot Imlay rope and two climbing ropes tied together for a pull cord. We were at the top of the first rap and one of my friends was about to get off rappel. Kenny, her boyfriend, had clipped into the webbing on the tree and he leaned out to get a look at her. Unbeknown to any of us, Kenny had actually clipped into the webbing tail that was tucked up underneath the rest of it. As he was leaning out he commented on how high up we were and then said "honestly Baird, I have no idea what I'd do if I fell from up here". 5 seconds later the webbing pulled free and he fell backwards off the top. I jumped for him but my sling held me back. As he fell, he hit that ledge about 20 feet down, which flipped him right-side up and tangled his arm in the pull cord. I jumped behind the tree and grabbed the double fisherman's knot we had used to tie the ropes. Kenny fell 180 feet before he was able to get both hands on the rope and stop himself. He stopped himself right at a knot that had somehow appeared in the pull cord. Even though his sling was mostly melted through he was able to clip into a loop in the knot. A friend came and we hold onto the pull cord until we could get a draw clipped into the pull cord and then into the anchor. Kenny then pulled an atc and biner up on the 300 footer, unclipped from his sling, and finished the rappel. He escaped with some bad burns on his hands, shoulder, and ankles and we all finished the canyon promising to stick to Xbox from then on. Best quote from the whole story - Kenny screamed what is colloquially known as "The F Word" as he fell off the top and my friend Taylor (who had a walkie talkie down below) told us (while Kenny was still on the rope) "You know...I don't think I want my last words to be the F word. If that happened to me, I'd yell something like " 'Stay in schoooolll...' " I'm hesitant to share my epic story, because I've read Shane's Sandthrax story and I don't think that thing can be topped.

Let me be the first to say WOW :shock2: :eek3:

Tom

[spinesnaper]

Now that is the appropriate use of the F word. Lucky, that's another word that comes to mind. Wow indeed. As Tom says, to paraphrase, you need a cows tail for doing exotic things like clipping in.:becca:

Ken

[Iceaxe]

:lol8:

The F word is the last phrase spoken by something like 80% of all fighter pilots just before impact.... $hit is number two on the list.... no pun intended.

True story. :nod:

[Penelope]

I'm not sure they were my scariest or most epic moments, but the only things that come to mind were two diving incidents.

The first was diving a sinkhole with a boyfriend about 12 years ago. He was a new diver and tried to be badass because I was an experienced diver and everyone knows boys are better at sports than girls, so... Anyway, we dove in 8mil wetsuits and hoods - really thick and cumbersome. Newbie was behind me along a wall and as we got to 30', the air in his suit compressed from the increased water pressure. He started to descend too fast and couldn't reach his bc (boyance control) inflator. It had flopped over his shoulder and his arm couldn't bend all the way in the thick suit to reach it. He sunk so incredibly fast I had to deflate my bc all the way and kick kick kick, head down to catch him by his tank valve and bring him back up. We hit about 80' before I caught up to him. If I hadn't looked back exactly when I did...They call the sinkhole 40 Fathom Grotto (that's 240 feet deep). We didn't last long.

The second scary moment was with another bonehead on a wreck dive in the Keys. This one was my ex-fiance. We dove the Duane, a 330' cutter that's in a super kickin' current most days and sits at about 120' deep. You gotta hold on to the bow line for dear life, like a flag in the wind, on the descent and ascent. Once on the wreck it's not so bad though. It was my first time on this particular wreck and when we reached the bow of the boat, my fiance took me by the hand and very romantically surprised me by grabbing the reg from my mouth as he tried to make out with me at 100'. Jolted from the surprise, I sucked in a mouthful of salt water. At the same time my weight belt slipped off from the jolt and fell over the bow to the bottom of the ocean. Remember the flag reference? I started "flying" away and only barely caught the idiots hand by our fingertips. If I hadn't I may have got a nice case of the bends! My mask blew off in the current and I blindly fought the force of being sucked up, feet first, to the surface. We spent the rest of the dive slowly ascending the bow line while diver after diver scrambled past us, nearly knocking me off the line I clutched to. Again, we didn't last long. Still haven't found anyone who can "hang" with me ;) hehe

[ghawk]

I was doing Not-mindbender a couple of years ago and we only had fairly long ropes. We came to a 35 foot rappel and I tossed the ropes over and clipped in to descend first. I didn't double check to make sure both ends were to the ground since I was using my 60 meter rope and so I figured it must have made it.:nono: I clipped in and walked to the edge. I decided to be cool then and jump down most of it by pushing out far from the wall. About when I pushed off I went into free fall because my one of the rope strands pulled through. All I could think was "my belay device broke?" before I hit the bottom (turns out the belay device was not the culprit, I was!). I hit squarely between the two walls of the canyon in a pile of sand with my backpack beneath me. I groaned for about a minute trying to breathe and figuring out if I was going to die or not. My friends at the top couldn't see over the edge and could just hear the groans. Finally I got enough breath to respond to them and they lowered a length of rope for me to hook the longer rope into and pulled it up. One of the people was WFR trained and checked me out. I ended up having some internal bruising and a slightly ripped abdominal muscle. The rest of that hike sucked but I got out okay. Nothing busted. Since then I've been a safety Nazi, ask my friends. Double and triple check!! I still get irrational fear sometimes on big rappels and think my equipment might fail even though it was my error in the accident, not the equipment's. I don't think I was wearing a helmet either, Tom :facepalm1: But I've learned and as a safety Nazi have stopped a couple of situations that could have ended similarly.

[Penelope]

If that happened to me, I'd yell something like " 'Stay in schoooolll...' "

I'd like to be able to yell something like "You fools! You'll never find my hidden gold!" or "Tell Johnny Depp I faked it!" just to mess with everybody. But more likely I'd blurt out "Panda Bear!"

[Iceaxe]

"Tell Johnny Depp I faked it!"

:roflol: :roflol: :roflol:

[Don]

One of my first technical canyons I clipped into the pull side of a knot block. I noticed my mistake on the double check but it scared the shit out of me. I had to wait a few minutes and then triple checked the whole system. I always triple check now.

[Iceaxe]

A little story.....

My brother and I were climbing in the Tetons and had just summited The Grand. It was early spring, everything was covered in ice and snow, wind was howling over the summit and it sounded like a freight train, spin drift and ice were stinging the face and eyes. We were wearing every stitch of clothing we had carried including heavy down parkas and we were still freezing our butts off..... in other words.... it was frickin' cold, we were bundled up and we couldn't see shit....

We hiked down to the summit rappel and I geared up to go first. I was wearing my usual BD Alpine Bod harness, when I clipped in I got the strap through the crotch clipped correctly, but I messed up and clipped my backpack waist strap thinking it was the harness waist strap... part of the problem was the amount of clothing I was wearing, compounded by shivering and being wind blind.....

Anyhoo.... as I leaned back to begin my rappel/tumble of death my brother noticed my screw up and grabbed the front of my jacket just before things went all to hell..... it is still one of the moments I wake up in the middle of the night thinking about occasionally..... scary......

Just thought I would share that since it seemed to fit this thread.

[Penelope]

my brother noticed my screw up and grabbed the front of my jacket just before things went all to hell.....

Holy balls!
Can I say balls in here? Seems appropriate.

[qedcook]

I once forgot to lock my carabiner. Nothing too scary but it is the same lesson everyone's been sharing. Triple check everything!!!

[Bo_Beck]

If I hadn't I may have got a nice case of the bends!

I'm sure things have changed since my NAUI Cert. in 1970, but we practiced "blow and go's" from 120'. We would leave the tank at the bottom of "Blue Hole" in Santa Rosa, NM (120') and do "blow and goes".

[Bo_Beck]

I'm sure things have changed since my NAUI Cert. in 1970, but we practiced "blow and go's" from 120'. We would leave the tank at the bottom of "Blue Hole" in Santa Rosa, NM (120') and do "blow and goes".

I take it back.....it's only 80' in depth! My memory seems to be escaping me after 41 years:haha:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blue_Hole_(New_Mexico)

[Iceaxe]

I'm sure things have changed since my NAUI Cert. in 1970, but we practiced "blow and go's" from 120'. We would leave the tank at the bottom of "Blue Hole" in Santa Rosa, NM (120') and do "blow and goes".

I was forced to do a "blow and go" for real from 100' :eek2:

We were diving a shipwreck near Catalina (1993) and my high pressure hose ruptured. I couldn't tell what the hell was going on because of all the bubbles pouring out around my head. I was finally able to get a peek at my gage and could actually watch the needle spin toward zero. About 2 seconds latter I could feel my tank running out of air..... and I was outta there, blowing hard and swimming for daylight.

The next week my brother was diving the same wreck with a girl on only her second dive. No one knows for sure what happened but she suddenly darted for the surface and didn't blow, her lungs rupture and it killed her.

[Penelope]

I'm sure things have changed since my NAUI Cert. in 1970, but we practiced "blow and go's" from 120'. We would leave the tank at the bottom of "Blue Hole" in Santa Rosa, NM (120') and do "blow and goes".

From 120? Der what?! :crazycobasa: But you survived. CESAs give me a nervous knot in my gut, but I can't even imagine a complete exhale prior to ascent.

[Penelope]

I was forced to do a "blow and go" for real from 100' :eek2:

CRAP!


The next week my brother was diving the same wreck with a girl on only her second dive. No one knows for sure what happened but she suddenly darted for the surface and didn't blow, her lungs rupture and it killed her.

DOUBLE CRAP!

You should come hang in FL and I'll take you to the Keys for the best US diving. Then you'd be obligated to be canyon guide for me in return :D hehe

[spinesnaper]

When I was 19, I learned the meaning of the expression: "don't drop your ice axe, you may want it latter." I was too (insert your own adjective here) to put on my crampons on transitioning from rock to snow while climbing Mt Ritter in the Sierras. I thought i could get across a series of sun cups to the next scree field. I slid, hit hard, and despite a hand strap of 1 inch webbing, was cleanly separated from my ice axe when I bounced. I slid down about 900 feet of a 45 degree ice/hard snow field. It was serene, light at the end of tunnel sensation,and the few seconds I fell passed amazingly slowly. I managed to properly orient myself and dig in with gloves, and my 6 pound mountaineering boots bringing myself to a stop. I stood up. My partner was ant size at the top of the snow field. I looked down and I was standing 10 feet from a rock band and a vertical face with another 400 feet or so to the canyon floor below. This would have been a distinctly less friendly fall than the one I had just completed. I had a big damn laugh--happy to be alive. Sometimes it is better to be lucky than good as the saying goes. We decided to bail, rather than finishing the ascent.

Ken

[iceman]

Many years ago, my Brother and I walked into the restroom of a pretty rough bar. The urinals were full so we walked into adjacent stalls. When I was done, I reached over the stall wall and gave him a good wack on the head. I here an unfamiliar "WHAT THE F___"
Turns out the stall he was walking into was occupied by a large, angry, drunk biker:angryfire:. Your rigging is not the only thing you should double check.

[Iceaxe]

a pretty rough bar.

If we're going to start talking about the "good ol' days" , I have several near death experiences involving shady bars, crazy women and fast cars.... :bootyshake:

Dang.... sometimes I still miss the sound of a pool cue cracking over someones head. :lol8:

[deathtointernet]

http://www.bogley.com/forum/showthread.php?40321-Mystery-Canyon...-or-How-A-Tourist-Almost-Killed-Me

This. Short version: first time leading Mystery Canyon, get to final rappel, toss the rope, see a tangle, back away from the edge and disconnect the rope from the anchor. I was tired and not thinking things all the way through, wasn't clipped into anything because I had backed away from the edge. Didn't want to chance losing the rope so while I untangled it I absently clipped it to my harness. At that same instant some tourist coming down the Narrows saw the dangling rope and decided to try and climb it hand-over-hand. Thankfully I wasn't close enough to be pulled over the side, but it was a near thing. Not my best moment, and obviously now I go out of my way to secure myself to something. And I don't trust tourists :haha: Planning to head down Mystery again in August to get things right!

[spinesnaper]

If we're going to start talking about the "good ol' days" , I have several near death experiences involving shady bars, crazy women and fast cars.... :bootyshake:

Dang.... sometimes I still miss the sound of a pool cue cracking over someones head. :lol8:

Do bad cases of clap count?:haha:

[ocanler]

I was only a teenager (17) but already had a lot of experience caving. Our club was exploring a new area in the Picos de Europa, a remote region in the northern part of Spain. We were there for an expedition, and had installed our base camp, 12 hours hiking from any road. Breathtaking area. It did not take long before we discovered a brand new cave. The starts was a straight shot of 350 ft with an overhanging snowfields with some rocks on top. As the snow was melting, rocks would start to fly down the shaft. Even though we made great efforts to clean up the snowfields from rocks, there were still debris and snow falling once in a while. We would time our descent to be early in the morning when the snowfield was a bit frozen and more stable. Going up on jumars was a long ordeal and you could ear (not see it was pitch dark) the small rocks flying down the shaft. Helmets came very handy on a few occasions.

After a few more shafts we reached the depth of 600 ft. At that point a 60 ft shaft in a big alcove was opening up in front of us. We put a couple of bolts and my partner set up the rope. I thought he was setting a double rope. He goes down and once at the bottom yells he is off rappel. I go, pick the rope, go single, and 10 ft later, of shit! no more rope (my partner did not ty a knot at the end). There I go flying down 50 ft and crashed next to my partner on top of huge stack of rocks the size of cars. Luckily I was carrying a huge bag of rope between my leg and it kept straight and I landed on my legs (instead of my back). My left foot was hurting like hell and pointing sideways. What were we to do? having rescues pick me up would take days (we were in the middle of nowhere), and pulling me off the 350ft first shaft would probably pull the snowfield down the shaft. I knew I had to make it out by myself, in a state of shock, and knowing I had to act fast, I started climbing, with pain shooting down my leg. The jumaring up the first shaft was brutal. I finally made it to the top. My leg was swelling in my boots. We had to cut the boot with a razor blade to allow the swelling to go on. The worst part is we had only Ibuprofen pain. Close-by were some climbers and they had walkies talkies with them They were able to reach the local SAR team. We were told no rescue would be attempted until the next day. In the morning we were told an helicopter would not be able to come to this area. Too dangerous, too many cliffs around.
Later I was put in a stretcher and that was probably the worst part. There was very little trails and some parts were some serious down climbing (Class III with some serious exposure) but there I was strapped in the stretcher, unable to move hoping to God the guys that were carrying me had a good grip.
I made it to the hospital in Bilbao after an epic 3 hours ambulance ride (try going as fast as you can on a curvy mountain road that's not much larger than a bike lane)
When I got to the hospital, they fixed my twisted ankle by yanking on it w/o sedation. Ouch! This was 36 hours after my fall. I had an open fracture. Recovery was long but luckily I was 17. The doctor I might not be able to walk. The next year we came back. With some emotions I passed the areas when I had fallen. We went on and reached the depth of 3,500 ft in that cave. At the bottom we discovered an underground river we followed for about a mile until the gallery was submerged. The name was Torca Uriello.Going up and down the cave was a 2 day ordeal.

30 years later, I'm suffering from bad arthritis in my ankle but this did not prevent me for doing marathons and even an IronMan triathlon. I moved to the US and while I have not done any caving here, I'm picking up canyonnerring. It's nice to be in the daylight. I'm headed to Zion next week. Can't wait. I'll also do the triple check on my rappels.