Accident Report: Cougar Canyon

[tdoughty]

Cougar Canyon Dec 12, 2015

In the past, Joe and I had discussed descending Cougar Canyon in the Anza Borrego State Park, debating a top down route from the Los Coyotes Indian Reservation per Brennen ttp://www.dankat.com/swhikes/cougar.htm which includes a long car shuttle, vs the bottom up from Sheep Canyon Camp as described by Lucach http://ropewiki.com/Cougar_Canyon_(Anza_Borrego_Desert),
which requires hiking/scrambling up 1,800’ to an entry saddle. (Debate, that’s what friends are for, yes?). Discounting the shorter days, and with my urgent push towards the simplicity of the bottom up approach, Joe ultimately caved to my preference.

I really enjoy leisurely excursions and I think Joe does, too. Our prior trips thru canyons elsewhere, including Death Valley, the Sierra Nevada, Zion and the Grand Canyon, have been more about trying to take the time to appreciate the unique landscape we find ourselves in, rather than beating the clock or checking another canyon off our list. This is not to say we don’t push the pace when necessary or when it’s just that kind of trip, yet my preference remains.

We leave San Diego on Friday about lunch time and a couple hours later find ourselves, just before the first Coyote Creek crossing, passing a bunch of cars parked beside the dirt road. Backpackers we wonder? We continue on over a couple other creek crossings and eventually arrive at the bottom of “Boulder Alley.” We debate again. This time the question is, “Can this be climbed without high clearance 4x?” I crawl up it with my HC 4x truck and we agree that the HC 4x is required for this approach.

We find Sheep Camp deserted and take our pick of the six sites, setting tents, stove, ice chest, chairs, and wood for a fire. A nice night out: brilliant stars, a warm fire, conversation with a good friend.


In the cool morning we rise from our tents, finish packing for the day while sipping coffee, and watch shadows chase each other across the valleys and hillsides.


We set off 30 minutes ahead of schedule: 8:30!


We hike south and past the exit from Cougar Canyon which appears to our west. I grew up in this area and I’m very familiar with local appearance vs reality. Even at a mile’s distance it doesn’t take much for me to notice that the exit is choked with boulders, palms, and looks to be a real PITA. I mention as much to Joe, “That looks nasty!”


We continue southward on the well-trodden trail for about 30 minutes, then branch southwest. Regardless of Cougar’s allure, we’re also drawn to an area on the map we’re to traverse labeled “Valley of the Thousand Springs.”

California Fan Palm groves erupt with abandon within that otherwise barren portion of the approach, forcing us to this side and that, before we escape northwest and begin climbing in earnest towards the crag-bound pass above. It turns out to be one of those 800’ sand/screes slopes interspersed with boulders and cactus and more sand than I would have liked.


So it’s lunch at the saddle with my GPS indicating it only 1.5 miles back to the exit trail (as the crow flies) and the beta telling us it’s only a dozen raps, or so. After a little R&R, we drop a couple hundred feet down sand, brush, cacti, and loose rock into the canyon proper. We’ve both reviewed the beta over and over and over, completed similar canyons, and therefore have a certain understanding of what’s ahead. I’m more inclined to be prepared to address the challenges as they appear, rather than how they may have been addressed in the past.

As we descend I find myself going back and forth, between discouraged and astounded, between “this is a real bushwhack” to, “this is some incredibly sculpted granite.”


We find a consistent obstacle of Desert Willows and a water course covered with Fremont Cottonwood leaves. It’s a good size canyon with slick down climbs, anchor inspections and replacements, and subtlety tricky rappels. We repeat the sequence at random.



In the tree/brush terrain I remain a respectful distance behind Joe. I don’t want to get whacked by the backlashed branches he’s bashing through. Besides, as a cheat, I watch as he shifts left or right so I can save a few steps by following his adjusted lead, rather than following him thru that damn doglegged and sketchy terrain.

Classic: He goes forward, then dodges left. I head diagonally left towards him, and plunge right-leg-calf-deep (Whoops!) into a Cottonwood leaf covered space between cobbles. Muscle memory: Not the first time in my life and I’m quick to try and get my balance above the leg, swinging arms and striking forward with my left foot…with that big left toe straight into an opposing cobble. #%&@!!! My halted forward momentum prevents a broken right leg, but I still collapse with intense left toe pain.

I don’t want to take my boot off, afraid of what damage I might see. Tears leak from my eyes. Joe asks after my wellbeing. I gather myself, stand, and take a few steps. With a good dose of denial I hobble forward to Joe.

Within the next 30 minutes and particularly during the next rap, it’s apparent to me that I need help. As a certified WFR, I always carry a 1^st aid kit, including meds that have been prescribed to me. Joe and I debated the challenges. (That’s what friends are for, yes?). I swallow a pain killer.


We slow down and Joe repeatedly double checks my biner-break rig. We replaced several old anchors and chuckle over a set of pins, with Joe replying to my questioning glance, “you’ve climbed on worse than these!” The shadows deepened, thence to night, and so out come the headlamps. We start out with equal luminosity, and then my lamp starts to fade. Back to my pack for the extra batteries, then, magic, bestest light!


Performed safely, night excursions are a wonderful contrast. My wide-angle focus is reduced to that of a headlamp’s circumference. Route finding takes on a different nuance. Now that it is dark, I’m even further relieved from my sense of needing to meet or exceed someone else’s “standard” completion timeframe.


Perhaps we did more raps than the beta described? I know we placed new webbing anchors where others unfound may have resided in the dark. We thought we might be technically finished, then stumbled into the final rap sequence, and at the end of it all looked in vain for the Psychedelic Eye. Next, the aforementioned “PITA” exit lead to a track twixt a looming grove of boulders and palms past which I breathed a sigh of release.

The track continued to lead us out of the canyon and back to the trail. Pain further accompanied me back to a 9:00 pm camp. But it wasn’t over. Joe and I continued our friendly debate around the campfire that night: could Brennen’s approach be preferred? Was the sling material at the top of the fifth rap OK or should we have replaced it? Would you do it again? Can you really get in here with a 2x? (But that’s what friends are for, yes?).

PS: x-rays show two proximal fractures. OUCH! OUCH!

[Sombeech]

ouch!

[hiacbanks]

Thank you for sharing. From that point when accident happened, did you feel lucky you have a buddy next to you? For hypothetical discussion, do you feel you can make it if you are solo?


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

[tdoughty]

hicabanks,

"did you feel lucky you have a buddy next to you?"

Actually, I feel really lucky if I can find anyone to venture out with me! And of course it's always great to have others around when an injury or other calamity occurs.


"do you feel you can make it if you are solo?"

YES.There's so much to be said about soloing.

But to address the question as it relates to this specific event. Yes I could have made it solo with a broken toe. I was still very ambulatory, both psychologically and mentally competent, and had barely even begun to dig into my bag of tricks. For me, if I had been solo, the piece that would have suffered the most would have been my psychological perspective. I would have cursed out loud more often and I would have been overzealous when checking my rigging.

To address an underlying theme here, solo outings can be viewed from a lot of different angles, more than I can speak to here. For me personally, I have decades of solo experience in canyons, peaks, cliffs, and ice clad mountains. Some because of an unquenchable desire to become further immersed in the environment, others because I just couldn't find a partner.

I've also backed off a bunch of them!


Ted's Solo Notes:
I always let someone know where I'm going, and when to expect me back.
I rely on knowledge gleaned from others, my 40+ yrs of experience, and my ever evolving judgement.
I typically venture onto easier terrain.
I can live with the shame of backing-off
In a majority of outings with partners, I pack/prepare as if I was solo.
I carry a PLB
I always let someone know where I'm going, and when to expect me back.