One time myself and three other climbers were traversing horizontally across a snow field. We started out bushwacking our way through some willows until we came to a wide open space. The first guy to step out onto the opening triggered a big crack that split the face of the snow. We all knew that it was a slab avalanche ready to break loose and we decided that the willows weren't so bad after all.

We rope up for rock climbs and mixed rock/ice climbs of course. We were roped up 99% of the time on McKinley. Twice while not climbing guys fell into crevasses that had no bottom that we could see. Fortunately the cracks were narrow enough that the guy was able to span the crack with his arms and the rest of us pulled them to safety.

Here's another article that you might find interesting. I wrote it twenty-five years ago and it too was published in Trail & Timberline.

HAIL ON HALLET'S

The Northcut Carter Route on Hallet Peak, Grade III, 5.7, is one of the most popular routes for technical climbers in Rocky Mountain National Park. The eight hundred feet high north wall is climbed with seven pitches of sustained 5.5 and 5.6 climbing, on solid rock. This kind of climbing is a pure delight to the technically minded climber. The crux is on the fifth pitch where the route skirts an overhang, to its’ right. We had turned back on Saturday because the weather looked bad and the weather forecast for the next day was good.

R.J. Campbell and I left the Bear Lake parking lot on Sunday, with a promise of sunrise on the eastern horizon. We hiked the trail to Emerald Lake and negotiated the talus field in two hours and were at the base of the wall at 7:00 A.M. There was a clear blue sky. Not a cloud in sight. We started up the wall exchanging leads and leap frogging past each other. This was really delightful. We were cruising the solid rock and enjoying the sustained middle fifth class climbing. I lead the fifth pitch and must have gotten off route because I ran out of rope before I reached the next belay ledge. I called down to R.J. that we had to climb simultaneously for about 20 feet.

The thunder storm must have been lurking behind the wall, growing and preparing its' surprise attack. At about 10:30, in ten minutes the sky deteriorated from solid blue to thick black clouds. The clouds opened up and dumped hail and rain on us and the wall. We tied into the rock to wait out the deluge. The downpour continued and neither of us was in a position to put on our parkas and we were getting soaked to the core. After half an hour there was a lull in the rain and I belayed R.J. up to a small ledge below me. Then I continued up to the intended belay ledge and belayed him behind me.

We were in big trouble. The rain and hail began again and by this time the whole wall was covered with a thin layer of water. All of the ledges were covered with hail and the lichens were greasy wet. In these conditions rappelling down was too risky. Climbing up was nearly impossible because the rock was too slippery and our climbing shoes were nearly useless. We put on our parkas over soaked clothes and began to shiver, while an inch of water drained down onto our feet. If we stayed there too long we would be hypothermic. We huddled together for warmth, for another hour, waiting for the rain to stop. Both of us were shivering continuously.

The rain lessened to a faint drizzle and we waited for the face to dry a little before starting up. It was R.J.'s turn to lead and he started up. He climbed up a thin crack putting in several pieces of protection, then moved onto the face. "Oh no. Falling!" I waited for the jerk on the rope. I waited. Thump. I heard something hit the wall above me then bang, the tension hit the rope. That must have been a real long fall for such a long wait. R.J. was hanging upside down just five feet above me. He had taken a forty feet leader fall. At first I thought that he was unconscious but then he said "where am I?" I lowered him down to the ledge. He was in sever pain and thought that his hip was broken. We had no choice. We had to get off of the wall or die from hypothermia. We couldn't expect a rescue until the next morning at least and we both knew that we couldn't last the night. R.J. said that he could belay me so I started up the wall, aiding every difficult move. I was pulling myself up on my arms because the slippery rock wouldn't hold my shoes.

The last two pitches turned into three of the worst that I have experienced in twenty years of climbing. At times my hands were so cold that I couldn't feel the rock. I could see my hand on a hold but I couldn't feel it. I took two leader falls and on one I hit a dihedral with my elbow and thought that it was broken. But the pain subsided and I continued. I belayed R.J. up behind me and every time that he pushed on his left leg, pain streaked through his body like lightning. We made the top of the escarpment and laid down on the coiled rope and our packs, to get some rest. But it was too cold to sleep. With R.J. Leaning on my shoulder and hobbling on one leg, we descended the scree gully at 8:30 P.M.

The last two pitches, which should have taken an hour and a half, had taken over nine hours. This trip had turned from an enjoyable climb into a desperate nightmare in just a few minutes and we never saw it coming. I suppose the moral of this story is to be prepared. The worst can happen at any time and without warning.

Wind in my hair, Sun on my face, I gazed at the wide open spaces, And I was at home.