“Self” Arrest
Matterhorn Peak
Northern Yosemite National Park
Elevation 12,279
Climbed May
15, 2009,
Written December 2013
In hopes to
meet some follow mountaineers, particularly women, I joined the Bay Area
Mountaineering Meetup group. I signed up for their Matterhorn climb in the high
sierra. This was a momentous trip for me as it would be only my second
mountaineering experience and my first time climbing with peers and without a
guide. I was concerned with my level of skill; it was important for me to be “self”-sufficient
and to keep up with the pace of the group. I spoke with the group leader and
after he assessed my past experience, he assured me I should be fine.
The Sonora
Pass had just opened up that day. My sister lives in Sonora so I drove up early
for a short visit. My climbing companions met me in Soulsbyville at a minimart
where my sister’s boyfriend dropped me off. I knew I was putting my family in
an uncomfortable situation – just drop me at the curb with three strange men
that I met on the internet and wish me well as I go on a backcountry expedition
with very little experience. To this day, I am still considered “self”ish by my
husband for going on this trip. Scoring a hall pass was not easy and if it
wasn’t for the other female signed up, I don’t think this trip would have
happened.
We arrived at
our campsite in Mono Village at 10 p.m., elevation 7,100. It was too late to
pitch my tent so I slept on top of it, next to the pines and under the stars.
We met the rest of our party at the trailhead at 8:30 the next morning. I felt
winded as the effects of the altitude challenged me as I hiked up the continuous
switch backs. The rock crossings were tough but I managed to stay within a
close enough distance from the group. Once we reached the snowline I was
content. I loved hiking in the snow and my new mountaineering boots were
performing well.
We were at
the start of the high sierra and the views were magnificent! This was also the destination
of author, Jack Kerouac, in his book “Dharma Bums,” he set off on a spiritual quest on the same
mountain. He determined on his climb that, “you can’t fall off a mountain.” I read his book
before my climb and his words didn’t give me much confidence as I entered unknown
territory.
We continued up the last steep section of snow and re-grouped below the exposed verticle rocks. The rest of the route was rock scrabbling up class 2 and up to class 5. I was prepared to end my journey here while the others continued to the summit.
“We all go to the summit” I was told. I was coached through the vertical rock
maze, feeling out of my comfort zone but we all made it to the summit. I felt
like a part of a team, a team with a common goal. I was at the highest point of
the Saw Tooth Range with my peers. At the elevation of 12,279, I felt like I
was on top of the world. I am a mountaineer!
We descended
the rocks and by the time we reached the snow line it had softened. I had to
concentrate on my footing, packing down the snow with each deliberate step to
avoid slipping. This technique was working well until I lost my concentration
and my foot slid out and I began sliding down the slope on my back, feet first.
I attempted to self-arrest but in the process I dug the ice ax too high above
my body and when it made contact with the snow it slipped out of my hands.
Thoughts and questions raced through my mind as I slipped down the mountain. When will I stop? Will I hit the exposed rocks
just below me? Will the impact injure my legs? I’ve never broken a bone. What
am I doing? I’m a Mom! I shouldn’t be taking these risks. How fast am I going?
When will I stop! I dug the heels of my boots and the fingertips of my
gloves into the snow. I felt that with each bump and dip I hit that it may have
been slowing me down. At last I came to a halt, I don’t know how I stopped but
I did. I planted my heels into the snow as best as I could so that I would not
continue the wild ride. My companions worked their way down to me and brought
me my ice ax. The rest of the way down I focused on each step, knowing the
result of an accidental slip. We finally reached a point where we could
glissade and at last made it back to high camp.
After some
nutrition and hydration the group decided to descend back down to the trailhead
and head for home. There was plenty of daylight and no one wanted to endure the
penetrating rays of the sun that afternoon. We packed up and headed down the
mountain. I felt energized by the climb and humbled by my fall. The fall was a
sobering lesson, one that taught me to respect the mountains and to know my
limits. Mountaineering can be a dangerous sport. I need to learn the proper
skills and make smart decisions. I have a beautiful family to come home to,
they need me and I need them.
As I look
back at my failed self-arrest I think of Kerourac’s statement; I may have
fallen on the mountain but I did not fall off the mountain. I will continue
with my mountaineering journey no matter what obstacles lie ahead of me. As the
Zen proverb says, “When you get to the top of the mountain, keep climbing.” That
is exactly what I plan to do!
