Dying in the Mountains

Perhaps it?s the end of one year and the beginning of another, or maybe it?s that the holidays are over and I?m feeling a little melancholia, but as I think back over this past year it occurred to me that we in the climbing community have forever lost some wonderful talent and great friends. Sue Nott, Peter Croft and Charlie Fowler to name but a few. I think we all understand and except (albeit to veering degrees) that risk, or more to the point, the risk of death, is intrinsic to our sport. For those who walk that razors edge and risk much the rewards are beyond mere words. With each passing year we count those with whom we will never shear a rope and contemplate our own odds and mortality. Personally, I don?t believe in odds or fate. I?ve always subscribed to the belief that every man has an appointment with death and nothing we do or don?t do will change that. This isn?t to say that I live a reckless or careless life, but one with purpose. As a climber, I can?t think of any death worse than that of old age. I have no allusions that this will bring any solace to those who are left behind, but when you think of all the pointless ways people die everyday, in the mountains doing what you love with those you love isn?t that bad. Speaking from my limited experience (two close calls) it?s not as bad as our minds make it out to be. Take falling for instance, once you get past the initial shock of losing control and falling, time does seem to compress somewhat. When I cratered after taking sixty footer my life didn?t flash before me, but I do remember thinking ?ropes gonna catch, ropes gonna catch?, followed by ?ropes not gonna catch? and then impact! I can only speak for myself, but the impact itself didn?t hurt. It was as if I was witnessing the events instead of experiencing them, like a ?rag doll? tumbling head over heels. It wasn?t until I finally came to a stop and tried to sit up that I felt ALL the pain. The other time was while doing a winter climb and I just ran out, totally spent with nothing left. Even now looking back, if it hadn?t been for my partner I can honestly say I would have been totally content to just sit there and drift away. To what extent my being a type-1 diabetic experiencing a low blood sugar reaction I don?t know, but from accounts I?ve read the sensations of extreme hypothermia are similar. I guess my point is this; for those of us still here contemplating the tragic deaths of our companions, the point of death or the stepping into the void is most likely not as painful as we imagine. Of what comes next, well that?s a whole other discussion. [size=9][/size]