July 30, 2004

Kate Touches the Void

How often it seems that in the wake of a successful ascent of a major and difficult peak, disaster, pain, and near death loom their ugly heads.  Perhaps because of the euphoria of reaching a nearly impossible goal, or the prospect of swift return to the comforts and luxuries of the valley (cabin # 9 at Lowe's, for instance), or having two left feet, most serious mountaineering accidents seem to happen on the descent.  Once again this was the case in Kate's climb into the Death Zone at Lookout Ledge.

Her ascent started out uneventfully, with the now familiar leap across the bergshrund from High Acres Road to the Pasture Path that marks the start of climbing proper.  The way went quickly, for Kate had made, in retrospect, the extremely risky choice to attempt this formidable ascent solo, having left her army of high attitude porters, from the famous Folsom tribe, safely ensconced at Advance Base Camp.  

The difficult climbing started almost immediately, on a long traverse with the added danger of possible bear attack; or, even worse, slipping off a rock into the mud.  Kate had to cross at least three vicious rapids before the route began to steepen, the beginning of the dreaded Death Zone.  The final pitches were virtually vertical, with perhaps the greatest danger being the likelihood of overshooting the summit, and plunging off the Ledges thousands of feet to the valley below.  (In fact, Kate would have probably landed, with a thud, right at her Base Camp doorstep, cabin # 9.)  But as befits her tremendous mountaineering skill, she reached her objective without incident.  The view that spread before Kate, previously seen by only a few of the world's greatest climbers (and many many thousands of mediocre ones), was fleeting; the light was fading and the prospect of barbequed yak at Advance Base Camp was tempting.

Perhaps too tempting; who knows what caused Kate to hurry recklessly down the steepest pitches.  The horrendous accident happened just as the downclimb moderated somewhat (from easy to very easy), but Kate was still in the Death Zone.  One small stumble, maybe on a root, or a slip in some bear poop, and she was off.  Who knows how far she would have plummeted if the ground had not arrested her fall, averting certain death.  She felt an audible pop as her right tibia shattered (well, cracked, as she turned her ankle.)  The climb immediately turned from a triumphant test of will and stamina into a struggle between life or death.  Pulling herself to her foot, Kate realized there was no hope of help from the Folsom porters, back at Advance Base Camp, eating snacks and drinking Harp beer; she would have to make it down completely on her own.  And that she did, stumbling and crawling and even walking a little, performing one of the greatest self-rescues from the depths of the Death Zone in mountaineering history.

One stumble landed Kate in a raging torrent.  While lying there, in danger of being swept away at any moment, she took the opportunity to gather a slight but significant dollop of water in her depleted water bottle, perhaps enough to ward off certain death by dehydration during the upcoming ordeal.  But Kate shouldered on in pain, seconds of her struggle stretching into minutes, minutes to hours, hours to days, days to.... well, you get the point.  Finally, after what seemed an eternity (and perhaps even a little more than an eternity, in this particular account at least), she reached Advance Base Camp, and in one last heroic effort, pulled herself into her car and drove to the Berlin hospital, unwilling to interrupt the festivities of the high attitude porters.  The x-rays showed a spiral crack in her right fibula (hence we're calling it a broken leg, otherwise known as a cracked ankle) and a team of ace surgeons and nurses was able to save her foot (with bandages and crutches).  Much to the amazement of all, she was able to withstand the incredible pain with good cheer (and the occasional Advil), and will no doubt shortly resume her illustrious mountaineering career.  Expect a complete account and book tour some time next year.

(written by Tom from firsthand accounts)