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| Inter-Glacier Mt. Rainier |
It had been a hard day of climbing on Mt. Washington, on a long forgotten date sometime in late February. My
climbing partner and I had started our summit attempt, well before the sun had managed to crest the horizon. Our plan was to hike from the Pinkham Notch visitor center, up into Huntington ravine, complete an
ascent of Diagonal gully and finally cross the wind-swept alpine garden to the summit of Mt. Washington. On our
descent, we had decided not to to down climb Escape Hatch gully but instead the popular Lion’s head trail, as
avalanche warnings had cause other routes become less favorable. After climbing for around 10 hours, we finally came to the end of Lion's head trail. As the day turned to night, the temperature started to drop quickly and a strong northeast wind began to gust.
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| Summit Mt. Hood |
Even
in the relative security of “treeline”, things began to get bitterly cold but
through the day, we had managed to stay relatively dry and were well fed and
hydrated. Given our situation, we had no fear for our own relative exposure to this sudden drop in the mercury. Our conversations were
light hearted and we began exchanging the occasional joke and openly voiced our
dreams about the pizza, we were soon to eat at Flatbreads in North Conway, NH. As we hiked, I lamented about how my tired legs felt like two boiled hot
dogs but I was still jubilant.
Just as we began to see the glimmering lights of the Pinkham Notch visitors center, we were suddenly surprised by a group of 5 people
huddled around a young man. As we stepped closer, one of the groups members
frantically ran up to us and asked if we had a stove and cook pot. When I
inquired why, she said that her friend was cold and unresponsive. At this point, I became
seriously concerned. This was not the first time I had seen someone injured in
the mountains and as fate would have it, unfortunately not my last.
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| Mountains of Patagonia, Climbing Aconcagua |
I
ran up to the young man and asked his name and received no reply. Upon
examining the boys face, he was expressionless; his blue lips visible even in
the low glow of my headlamp. I shook the young man and two hand warmers fell
out of his hands. “What are these?” I exclaimed! “Heater packs” someone in the
group responded. Agitated I thought, well if this boy dies at least he will be able to greet St. Peter with a warm handshake!
Receiving
no response from the boy and with him exhibiting all the classic signs of
hypothermia, I knew we were going to have to work quickly to get him off
the mountain and someplace warm. The temperature during most of the day had
been in the upper teens but was dropping fast now and we were racing against
time.
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| Leaving Camp 3, Aconcagua |
I
removed my down jacket from my backpack and we worked to wrestle his stiff arms
into it and to get it zipped. Once on, we enclosed his head in the hood
allowing only a small hole for air. Thus readied, my climbing partner and I each grabbed one of
the boys arms and at the count of three, had him standing and quickly walking
him down the mountain. With his legs uncontrollably flailing out behind him, it
was apparent that the boy’s body had no idea it had been set in motion. As we
walked, we continued our interrogation of the boy and after about 15 minutes
were managing to get his name and some personal information. In another 5
minutes, he was stumbling along on his feet and attempting to walk.
Upon
arriving at the Pinkham notch visitors center, we managed to wrestle the boy into the lodge and set
him down. Assessing his current condition, he appeared to be slowly pushing
coherence and was now being quizzed by several of his friends. Once of the centers medical response personnel appeared and began assessing the boys situation. Determining that the
situation was well under control, my buddy and I slid outside and into the cold
night, content to be the anonymous strangers that potentially saved a young
man’s life.
