| Fall on Mount Galbraith Trip Report |
Geography Parents  Loading... Trip Reports
| Fall on Mount Galbraith   | 
| Page Type: Trip Report Location: Colorado, United States, North America Lat/Lon: 39.66900°N / 105.219°W Date Climbed/Hiked: Mar 20, 2004 | Page By: Aaron Johnson Created/Edited: Mar 24, 2004 / Mar 12, 2006 Object ID: 169312 Hits: 1346 Loading... Page Score: 0% - 0 Votes Loading... Vote: Log in to vote |
PROLOGUE
March 20, 2004 marked the beginning of the IU Trekkers hiking season. The IU Alumni Hiking Group usually starts hiking in late May, but it was decided by the group leaders that the season should start earlier this year because the schedule was more aggressive than it has been in the past. So a number of pre-season get-in-shape hikes were planned, and the first one was on Mount Galbraith, just outside of Golden and minutes from my house.
I had never been to Mount Galbraith. I had never heard about it. Randy & Sharon Breunlin are IU Trekker leaders and are very knowledgeable about Colorado’s Front Range trails and destinations. Having always focused on the big mountains, it’s nice to have them on board to not only lead the group, but take me to places I haven’t been, which I’m very keen on. They mentioned Mount Galbraith at our second planning meeting and it sounded real good to all of us as a starter hike. So the mountain was placed on the list as the first hike of the season.
The drawback with hiking with the IU or any organized group is that the size of the group can get quite large and movement in the mountains is slow and ungainly. It is also typical for the early hikes to attract lots of people as they start later and folks can sleep in. As start times get earlier as the season progresses, the fringe “lite hikers” fall away and leave the “usual suspects” to do the real climbing throughout the rest of the season.
BIRTHDAY BOY DISTRACTIONS
The Mount Galbraith hike was no exception. Seventeen people showed up after having consulted the IU schedule. Among them was new SP member gemgoddis, who met me and my daughter, Shanna, through SP, and thus learned about the IU hiking group. SP members Jim Lierman and Ellen Ritt were also present, along with other new IU hikers and a few “newbies,” like family friend Brandon Merz.
As we were leaving the house to meet everyone at the trailhead, Brandon bestowed upon me a birthday present: a new DVD! I was quite excited. He had brought other DVDs for me to view at my leisure, so we were looking them over as we were gathering our gear and preparing to leave. We hastily set them aside, piled into the car and drove off to do the hike.
At the trailhead, I walked around to the back of my Pathfinder to put on my hiking boots. I hate driving in them, so I like to put them on at the trailhead. Well, they weren’t there. In our rush out the door and in my distraction, I had once again failed to remember to bring my hiking boots. Now, this wasn’t the first time I had forgotten my boots. I climbed Mount Pettingell in my house slippers because I had forgotten my boots. My house slippers were never the same after that. Even more amazing, my feet did not get tired and I did not get hurt.
At work, I’m the Safety Chairman, and I’m always preaching about wearing the right Personal Protective Equipment (PPE) to do a given job, similar to using the right tool for the right job. My attitude is no different with climbing, despite the fact I’ve gotten away with a lot of crap over my long…long…long climbing experience. I have always stressed the importance of heavy duty hiking boots for comfort, difficult terrain and climbing. In my book, there is no piece of equipment that is more important or essential in assuring a safe and satisfying experience in the mountains.
The group was already running late and ready to go. My oversight would simply snarl things up, so I decided to do the hike in my tennis shoes. After all, it was only going to be a hike on a well trodden trail. What challenge could this tiny mountain possibly pose against me that I could not handle? Besides, we had lots of beginners and we more experienced folks were needed to watch out for them, not for ourselves.
MOUNT GALBRAITH
Randy and Sharon led the way up the trail. Jim was in the middle and Ellen and I brought up the rear. Long time friend and fellow climber DiLynn Guern brought along Jack, the elderly family dog, who tired quickly into the hike and soon brought up the absolute rear. We soon came to a shaded section where ice was still coating the trail. Our youngest hiker, 12 year old Kevin, slipped once on this hard packed stuff, compelling me to watch my step in my less than ideal tennis shoes. Once we rounded the ridge and entered the sun, the hazard was quickly forgotten.
At the point where the trail splits, either direction can be taken to execute the loop that leads near Galbraith’s summit. It was at this point that Jack called it a day and DiLynn decided to stay behind and let him rest. They would eventually saunter back to her car and go home long before the group would descend from the mountain. We said our farewells and continued higher, soon enjoying far reaching vantages of Green Mountain, Mount Morrison, North Table Mountain, and the cities of Golden, Lakewood, Arvada and Denver.
The easy trail gained altitude gradually as it contoured around Galbraith’s slopes. Now on the south slopes and headed west, we soon came to a spur trail leading to the inconspicuous summit. Our large group splintered up into smaller ones to enjoy a snack and mingle with one another. It was soon decided, in honor of my birthday (which was on the previous day), to proceed to the higher and unnamed west summit and do some scrambling on some rocks Randy and Sharon knew about.
TAKING THE FALL
Once back on the main trail, we quickly took another spur trail which cut across a clearing and then climbed sharply up through some pines. The west summit was a collection of sparse trees and meadows. Mount Evans was now visible to the southwest. Keeping the group together was a chore. As Randy led the group back east toward the descent, Ellen and I waited for those in the rear to catch up and make sure we were all going in the same direction.
We caught up with the group and finally had everyone together atop the crag Randy and Sharon had mentioned. Sharon had picked our descent route, which looked like great fun and immediately charged me with enthusiasm and interest. This would be a good warm-up introduction to rock climbing for the group, and give them a brief glimpse of things to come later on in the year. More importantly, it would help them decide if this was a group they wanted to spend their weekends with. For some, we’re just too crazy! What happened on this trip would certify that statement.
I hurriedly scurried around Randy to enter the downclimb and get to a spot where I could photograph everyone as they descended the route with my new digital camera. It looked simple enough, even though it was quite steep. Footing was on smooth granite, but on the left there was a wall with lots of holds. Without hesitation, I went right into this simple obstacle with lots of confidence...thoughtless confidence. Anyone could handle this little—
I slipped about one foot on the rock, which made me instinctively grab a rock on the wall to my left. This football sized rock was loose, just resting there. It came off the wall and fell right into my chest. It probably weighed fifty pounds. I went off balanced, slipped again and down the smooth rock slope I went. Having taken many falls in my climbing experience, what followed was instinctive but also vague as it happened so fast.
I was compelled to let the rock fall on me, lessening the impact by cradling it in my arms like a football as I slammed back first into the rock slope. My daypack softened the blow. The rock was smooth, so I immediately slid and rolled over my right arm, at which point I did all I could to lunge the rock away from me. It tumbled down the slope ahead of me. I half rolled and slid off another steep drop of about a foot, landing on my feet and falling forward, arms out ahead of me toward a long fallen and dead tree trunk. Bleached silver by years in the sun, this trunk had many thick, pointed and dried limbs protruding from it. In this split second, I remember thinking this bizarre thought: If I’m not careful, I’m going to fuck up!
I don’t remember if I fell onto that log with its many spear-like protrusions, but I do remember my hands making contact with it and shoving myself away from it. I think I then fell onto my left side and rolled another eight feet or so down the unforgiving rock. The ensuing calamity had caused a dust cloud to rise, that I saw briefly in a whirl of sky and trees and rock as I tumbled further still. My helpless rag doll body stopped rolling when it collided with a huge boulder. The motion just stopped in a jarring, silent collision that showed no mercy. I remember my ankles slamming against this huge boulder and hearing Randy’s voice, laced with urgency call out, “Aaron! Are you alright?”
I was obviously shocked, because I noticed nothing except that I had torn a hole in the left cuff of my hiking pants. Otherwise, I felt fine, totally embarrassed and no doubt looking completely foolish. I sprang to my feet and replied, ”yeah, I’m alright.” I immediately dug for my camera, saying something like, “the only thing I hurt was my ego. I’m okay.” As I dug the camera out and looked up the slope which I had just tumbled down, I could see it was a good twenty feet that I had fallen, and I took a pretty good beating all the way down. The mild shock was currently keeping me oblivious to the extent of my injuries.
Above me was the group, including Ellen, glaring down on me in disbelief. I assured them that I was okay, that I have taken many falls and this was nothing. But I felt like a total geek with all credibility before these beginners suddenly lost on a stupid situation that I created. Ellen scampered down the route to check me out as I urged folks to climb on down and I would snap away with the camera. I had to repeatedly assure Ellen that I would be fine. Meanwhile she fretted over my injuries and blood started to show up here and there. I tried to play this down so as not to upset the beginners who were in the midst of climbing down some rock a supposedly experienced mountain climber had just fallen down! Yikes!
I dropped lower to get some wider shots. Ellen stayed close, growing ever more concerned. I remember feeling the wetness of blood on my left leg and elbow. Stinging pain soon followed. A quick glance at the source of wetness on my right arm when Ellen wasn’t looking revealed a beautiful, singular straight gash about a sixteenth of an inch deep. One end of the gash had barely missed a major vein by less than an eighth of an inch. I kept working with my camera in an attempt to conceal this potentially messy wound from Ellen, and more importantly, from the group.
Meanwhile, Randy and John Higgs did a marvelous job of getting the entire group down through the rocks, including a dog. My daughter Shanna was the last to descend the obstacle in graceful style. Sharon led the way down through some slick grass covering hidden rocks. Ellen and I brought up the rear. John Higgs asked if I was alright, then stated that he had seen the fall and described it as “spectacular.” He was amazed I was not hurt worse. I was actually thinking that I was in fact hurt pretty bad, feeling the pain set in throughout my body. I assured John it was not a big deal, that I had fallen many times before and that I would be alright. He had obviously not seen anything like it, so it was bound to be a shocking thing to witness. Ellen had seen “the second half” and the aftermath: A cloud of brown dust hovering over the chasm I had tumbled down. It was no doubt a sudden shock to her as well.
   
AFTERMATH OF THE FALL
Once off the steep slope, Randy led the group down the trail. I announced I needed to pee and would catch up. I walked off out of view and began an immediate inspection of my wounds. Searing pain from my left elbow caught my attention first. It was a serious scrape, oozing blood. There were more scrapes on my left arm on the inside, and puncture wounds on my left hand at the base of my first finger, likely from handling and heaving that fifty pound rock away from me. These wounds stung the worst, but were thankfully nowhere near threatening. They were certainly reminding me of what a fool I had been and how foolish I certainly appeared to the group.
The gash on my inside right arm would have likely bled profusely had it been any deeper. I have no idea where or how these wounds were inflicted, but they now had to be dealt with. For the first time EVER, in all the years I can recall, I broke out my ancient first aid kit. I have carried this thing with me since my Boy Scout days and have never had to use it…thankfully. I’ve always had a suspicion that if I went on a climb without it, I would certainly need it. I was thankful I had it now.
I unrolled it and dug out one of the compresses. You must understand this kit is OLD! We’re talking the 1950s! I opened the box, pulling out one of the two packages that were inside. As I opened the packaging, it crumbled like dust in my hands! I merely had to squeeze and it disintegrated into flakes and blew from my hand in the breeze. The tie bandage was in good shape, preserved well in this packaging for nearly 50 years. I applied the heavy pad to the wound on my right arm and tied it tightly in place.
I then unzipped the lower pantaloon of my hiking pants to have a look at the wet spot on my left leg above the knee. This wound was a mess. It was actually multiple stab wounds from my keys, which were in my left pocket. I always ALWAYS place my keys in my backpack to reduce the chance of this very thing happening. Again, because I allowed myself to be thoughtlessly distracted, I suffered another unnecessary injury. My keys had repeatedly gouged my leg during the fall. I applied another compress to this wound, not convinced it would stay in place long. The bleeding had already stopped. It was merely an attempt to keep it that way for the descent. During the walk out, the bandage slipped down to my ankle and I removed it, as the bleeding had completely stopped by then.
I had been gone a while and Ellen and the others would start to worry, so I zipped my pants back together, gathered up my gear and senses and marched off to catch up with the group. Forever devoted, Ellen was there waiting for me right where I had left her. The rest of the group had gone on to finish the loop. She asked if I was alright, spotting my bandage. I assured her I was, not to worry, that I simply put it on to keep from smearing blood on my shirt, but that I was not seriously hurt. If anything was hurt, it was my bloated pride.
Stupid is how I felt. I was arrogant, ignorant and presumptuous. I was reckless and thoughtless, otherwise none of this would have happened. Because I was not focused, I forgot my boots. I hiked in tennis shoes. I entered a rock climbing situation, totally oblivious that I had forgotten my hiking boots. How stupid is that?
Because I entered a climbing situation in tennis shoes, I slipped. Had I not slipped, I would not have grabbed a loose rock and I would not have taken a fall. If I had worn my hiking boots, this would not have happened and I would not look like a total clown in front of a bunch of beginners. All of these beginners had their hiking boots on, and they had not been on such terrain before. With excellent guidance, they all climbed down the rocks without incident. The guy that got hurt was the cocky and reckless mountain climber with tons of experience! How stupid can you get?
Days later, the rate of my recovery from this incident was pretty impressive. I chalk that up to the fact that I’m in better shape now than I usually am this time of year. I’ve been climbing all winter, training for our climb of Mount Shasta in June. The obvious injuries are healing quickly, but the extent of unknown injuries is now just becoming known at the time this report was written. Left ankle pain, right lowest rib pain, probably from the impact of the rock, and pain around the right armpit, and evident bruising, have all since subsided. Another impact wound which bled briefly was located on the right ankle, on the inside heel bone. Bruised bones and muscles on the outside left arm, right leg above the knee, rear left arm above the elbow were apparent for two days. The stab wounds from my keys have resulted in a massive and ugly bruise on my left leg, which will be with me for a while. Lots of reminders of my carelessness.
EPILOGUE
Luckily though, none of the injuries were serious. I actually rode the Ski Train and went skiing at Winter Park (a birthday present from Ellen that I obviously could not skip) the next day. Note that I did not ski well or with any semblance of grace. It was slushy and generally awful skiing conditions, and turning in the stuff was a real chore. This no doubt made my aches and pains more acute the next day, particularly a persistent back pain, but I’m through the worst of it now as I write this report. Hopefully those that read this account will remember it and safeguard themselves from such needless, dumb-assed folly.
If there ever was a perfect example as to the importance of wearing hiking boots on ANY hike, I’m it. If there ever was a perfect example of why you should wear any kind of PPE for any thing you might be doing, it’s me. If you’re using a weed eater, wear goggles. If you’re working with your hands, wear gloves. If you’re climbing Class 5 and higher, rope up. If you’re rappelling, tie a knot at the end of your rope and check all knots and gear before proceeding, then have your partner check everything, then you check everything on your partner. Always carry a first aid kit. And, if you’re hiking and you obviously don’t know every terrain situation you’ll encounter, wear your fucking hiking boots. It’s that simple.
Otherwise, you’ll hear it from me. You can count on it. I’m eminently qualified to chew your ass about it. After reading this account, and no doubt being entertained (and maybe hopefully better educated), I’m sure you’ll agree.
Always, always, always…climb safe!
Images
|
|
