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Ed Hartouni
Trad climber
Livermore, CA
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Topic Author's Original Post - Apr 7, 2013 - 05:53pm PT
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walking around in the forest, off the beaten path, you come across artifacts from the past that seem detached from history.
Helicopter crash wreckages are a silent, forgotten testament of the risk air crews take in rescues. It is a reminder of how dangerous such activities are, and should be in the forefront of every climber who undertakes adventure in the Valley, lest they succumb to the idea that they can be saved from whatever happens.
Here is a wreckage that I thought was from the Peter Barton rescue/recovery, but looking at the picture that Werner reposted is obviously in the wrong place. This one is on very steep ground off to the west of El Capitan.
The debris field is relatively compact
there is melted aluminum from the fire
and recognizable parts
it is a somber monument to the potential harm these crews subject themselves in on a rescue, and not one to be taken for granted by climbers.
What is the history of helicopter crashes on rescue in the Valley?
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ß Î Ø T Ç H
Boulder climber
bouldering
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From CF's site Helicopter crash while on rescue mission, base of El Capitan, 1975.
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Fletcher
Trad climber
The great state of advaita
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Shite, that is serious! Also for Werner's photo.
Mega-respect for the folks who do this giving work.
Eric
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CF
climber
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the photo werner posted is of the heli that crashed in tuolumne meadows right out from the store and burned up.
the one you found must be the barton recovery ship that went down as it was in the woods just west of lurking fear area. i was in the area and hiked up to it right after they got everyone out, it was still burning. got some photos somewhere.
will check out the server error
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Patrick Sawyer
climber
Originally California now Ireland
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Ed, I was supposed to be with Peter to do the West Face of El Cap, but Dale Bard stepped in, and Peter was right in picking him as a partner, as neither Peter or I had done an El Cap route and Dale, well, experienced.
I was in the village with Claude Fiddler when we heard about the heli crash, we raced down to El Cap Meadow. Saw the burning of the copter.
It was a 'miracle' that the crewmen survived (some broken bones I believe).
Peter Barton RIP. A lovely human being and I enjoyed climbing with him.
EDIT
Talking with Dale in C4, he was as distraught as one could be, thinking he could have done something. But Peter died on impact (I believe climbing around a tree on approach and fell). Dale could not have done anything. As I understand it, Dale and a ranger tried to approach his body in a small copter (correct me if I am wrong, anybody) but the winds down El Cap's west gully were too strong, so hence the Navy helicopter.
A tragedy.
His ashes were spread from the top of El Capitan, I believe, and the story is, that an eagle flew by when the ashes were spread. I do not know how accurate this story is, but Peter was an excellent man.
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CF
climber
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photo of barton rescue ship in woods shortly after crash
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SCseagoat
Trad climber
Santa Cruz
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Ummm. Tough stuff.
Hopefully if the debris is found by the Facelift crews they will leave it untouched.
A memorial unto itself.
Susan
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Ed Hartouni
Trad climber
Livermore, CA
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Topic Author's Reply - Apr 7, 2013 - 08:57pm PT
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unlikely to be subject to Facelift cleanup,
just not near anyplace people would normally go
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Peter Haan
Trad climber
Santa Cruz, CA
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Peter Barton earlish Seventies. I think we were bouldering near Swan Slab or behind Camp Four. It was getting to be evening.
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Ed Hartouni
Trad climber
Livermore, CA
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Topic Author's Reply - Apr 8, 2013 - 12:50am PT
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from the stories I've heard the site we came across is consistent with the Barton recovery crash site... but Werner was sure that the image he posted was an image of that crash, and that image does not match the site.
I think CF's image and the story he tells of making that image also match the site.
Gill has also told the story from his vantage point, he said he watched the 'copter at about his altitude and heard the engines cut out, but that he had witnessed pilots do that to descend quickly, obviously he was as surprised as anyone that it was an engine failure.
How the crew survived is also simply amazing.
It's not analytic, really, just piecing all the stories together. Maybe Werner can shed some more light on the matter.
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john hansen
climber
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"How the crew suvived"
I would like to hear more of that story.
Was the only death the person they were rescuing?
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Ed Hartouni
Trad climber
Livermore, CA
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Topic Author's Reply - Apr 8, 2013 - 01:03am PT
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no, it was a body recovery, the climber was already dead...
thanks for that link climbski2
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WBraun
climber
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You guys have it right.
My original post and photo was wrong.
Stupid Werner ......
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HighGravity
Trad climber
Southern California
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I can't find the picture I'm thinking of, but I seem to recall a Huey going down somewhere in the high country while placing a portable repeater. It was perched on a peak and looked as if any movement would make it fall.
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Ed Hartouni
Trad climber
Livermore, CA
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Topic Author's Reply - Apr 8, 2013 - 01:14am PT
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thanks Werner...
...it was something like 40 years ago, and you've been through a lot..
terrible thing to witness, no doubt.
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ß Î Ø T Ç H
Boulder climber
bouldering
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from Climbing magazine ... There have been four YOSAR helicopter crashes over the years. One occurred during the summer of 1974, when the hydraulic system in a U.S. Naval Air Station helicopter failed during a body recovery on El Capitan. Another was in 2005 during a rescue on Braille Book on Higher Cathedral Rock. With the chopper carrying a medic and the victim in the basket below, unusual down drafts began blowing. The ship couldn’t simultaneously handle the extra weight of this load and fight off the drafts, and the victim was fatally dragged through the trees; the medic was also significantly injured. I happened to see a Dill slideshow in about '82, and remember seeing a photo of a heli crash that didn't resemble the Barton recovery crash site. That may account for the 4 crashes reported in the Climbing article(?).
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Clint Cummins
Trad climber
SF Bay area, CA
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Here's a near-crash / rescue accident which is not listed in the PDF linked.
From a post of mine in 2008:
A possibly more targeted example of the risk of a helicopter evacuation was the accident and subsequent rescue on 6/13/2002 on the Braille Book in Yosemite.
Note: this is an example of the risk of helicopter evacuation; what can go wrong. This is my recollection from posts on supertopo at the time and from the posts and articles linked below. I might have some of the facts wrong. Obviously it was a tragedy, and fortunately most of the time the evacuation goes well. There have been crashes during rescues, though.
The initial accident was a soloist (Richard Zuccato, from Baytown, Texas) who fell on the first pitch of the Braille Book. His belay device failed and he did not have backup knots in place, and he fell to the ground. I am not sure exactly what his injuries were. Some posts on supertopo said he had a broken arm; a yosemite.org post at the time (link since expired) said he was in critical condition before he was evacuated.
The Braille Book is quite high above the Valley floor with a large talus field, so a litter evacuation would have taken very many hours.
On the helicopter evacuation, Jason Laird (Naval airman) was the litter attendant. The litter was hoisted partway up to the ship on the cable and the ship began descending towards El Cap Meadow. Shortly after, there was red light on the panel, due to a loss of lift (downdraft?), and the ship started heading diagonally down towards the valley floor at a very fast pace. In the process of this emergency descent, Jason and Rick were slammed into a big tree in the Spires Gully. The impact actually broke off part of the tree. The impact injured Rick fatally, and Jason got a collapsed lung, broken ribs, broken pelvis and severe lacerations. The pilot attempted to jettison the load to save the ship. The cable was released by the pilot (or it broke), and Jason and Rick dropped about 40' until the backup rope caught them. At this point the litter folded in half. The descent continued under more control, with the pilot apparently unaware for awhile that the litter was still attached - there were near misses with trees and the lower part of Lower Cathedral Spire. The pilot managed to land the ship in El Cap Meadow and Jason was hospitalized.
[edited above - thanks to Erik's post below]
http://www.supertopo.com/climbing/thread.html?topic_id=3937&msg=3939#msg3939
http://www.supertopo.com/climbing/thread.html?topic_id=366321&msg=366507#msg366507
http://www.supertopo.com/climbing/thread.html?topic_id=39284&msg=39310#msg39310
http://www.supertopo.com/climbing/thread.html?topic_id=254144&msg=258755#msg258755
http://cave.sbsar.org/Documents/trkrhist/0207Trkr.pdf (scroll down to last page)
The original 2008 thread is:
http://www.supertopo.com/climbing/thread.php?topic_id=624269
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Clint Cummins
Trad climber
SF Bay area, CA
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Wow, I hadn't heard of that 1977 accident - what a nightmare scenario in the dark.
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Big Mike
Trad climber
BC
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Wow. So glad my rescue wasn't this extreme!! Flat open places make for the safest rescues!
Edit although, helis are helis....
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BASE1361
climber
Yosemite Valley National Park
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Jason suffered more injuries than stated......
Dude is lucky to be alive
just say'n
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neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
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hey there say, ed, werner, warbler and all...
no words, but an oh my...
as to this, quote, warber:
Amazing - I couldn't believe I was watching them bail out of the ship one by one after what happened.
that feelings that you are about to watch folks die, turned into the
miracle that so many wish for... glad you were able to see something good
from something so awful, that day...
salutes, to all those fine folks that fly these precarious machines...
and prayers for those that continue to do so...
sad to hear of all the losses...
the general public, such as me, we never KNOW how precarious this is...
we think folks have a good chance, being that are trained to do this,
but--we do not understand the full mechanics of this machine, nor of the
winds that they deal with, or the areas that they try to approach...
thank you to all that do so...
you are not going to be forgotten, or unthought of...
thanks for sharing, ed...
good share for us ...
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mynameismud
climber
backseat
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On the helicopter evacuation, Jason Laird (Naval airman) was the litter attendant. The litter was hooked up to the ship with a cable and they lifted off. Shortly after, there was red light on the panel, and the pilot attempted to jettison the load to save the ship. He released the cable, but it was backed up by a rope, so Jason and Rick were not actually dropped much. Then the pilot made an emergency descent to try to land in El Cap Meadow while he still had some power. In the process of this emergency descent, Jason and Rick were slammed into a big tree in the Spires Gully. The impact actually broke off part of the tree. The impact injured Rick fatally, and Jason got a collapsed lung, broken ribs, broken pelvis and severe lacerations. The pilot managed to land the ship in El Cap Meadow and Jason was hospitalized.
I witnessed this from the Crucifix and that is not how it seemed to happen from my view point. Heard the fall, took a while for everything to unfold but it came to the time. The heli lifted the gurney and the gurney initially went through some nearby trees, not bad but enough for me to think, glad that is not me. Shortly after that the heli seemed to lose lift and actually seemed to sink a bit. Then the pilot banked the heli and started down slope. Initially it seemed to almost parallel the talus field and I was giving it at best fifty percent odds of not crashing. The heli gained a lot of speed and then started to pull up and the gurney started to whip along an arc and almost at the apex it hit the tree. I can still see this in my mind today, the tree exploded. At this point the gurney fell straight down and I figured it was going to the ground but it stopped after approximately 40 or so feet. When the gurney hit the end of the rope it folded in half.
Perhaps this is when the cable snapped or they jettisoned the load but there was a backup rope and that is what caught the gurney. Not sure what happened but at this point I do not think the folks in the heli thought they still had a load because they were flying low and the gurney came really close to a couple of trees. They continued in the direction of the toe of Lower Cathedral Spire and I thought for sure the basket would hit Lower Spire but just at that point they must have notice something was down there or someone contacted them because they slowed, gained altitude, and proceeded more directly toward the river and El Cap meadow.
I really did not figure it was possible for anyone to survive that. While the heli was flying away a few items flew out of the basket and someone's leg kept swinging out of the basket. On the hike down, out of pure chance, we ended up walking under the Pine ( I think it was a Pine) and some of the tree limbs were lying about and were about six to eight inches in diameter and sheered right off. Tragic accident and very unfortunate for everyone but I am glad the rescue folks do what they do and I am thankful for my one and only (hopefully the only one) rescue.
I think it was right after the Heli accident, about two pitches later, when the two guys almost got taken out by a large boulder coming loose on Higher Cathedral Spire. One guy held on to a small edge and the other guy basically climbed over him to get on a ledge. The guy that hung on was slim and the dude that climbed up the slim guy and onto the ledge was a big guy. Heard the boulder go, heard shouting, did not really think much till minutes later when people started to move. To this day do not know how that slim guy held on. Ended up talking to them a bit in Camp 4.
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Clint Cummins
Trad climber
SF Bay area, CA
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Erik,
Thanks for sharing your direct observations of the accident.
Actually your observations seem to match up with my description fairly well - where do I have it wrong?
I believe the "boulder coming loose" accident was Jay Selvidge and partner at the base of South by Southwest on Lower Spire. There was a loose block at the ledge, and you could put cams behind it, but if you weighted them, the block moved and they would come loose. This happened to them, and they started sliding toward the edge, but managed to stop themselves.
I had noticed the loose block earlier, and considered trundling it, but didn't do that because I didn't have a clear view of all the pitches on the regular route below it. I'm sure glad Jay and partner survived, or I would have badly regretted not trundling.
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mynameismud
climber
backseat
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It was the part where they dropped the gurney. In the other report it seems to indicate the gurney was dropped or they thought the gurney was dropped before hitting the tree or before they got control of the heli. From what I saw the gurney was dropped right after hitting the tree or a result of hitting the tree. Which also seems to correlate with the point in time when they seemed to get full control of the heli.
Yes, I think one guy was Jay. That was a close shave for the two of them. From what I remember they actually ended up dangling in space. I think Jay was the bigger guy, but not sure. I think that block was loose when Steve and I were up there as well. Glad it worked out for those two.
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scuffy b
climber
heading slowly NNW
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Jay and a slim guy? Kinda redefines slim.
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WBraun
climber
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This is supposed to be the helo getting Barton or the flight out with the body in the litter before the crash.
After the crash:
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Clint Cummins
Trad climber
SF Bay area, CA
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Erik,
Thanks for explaining - I understand now.
I edited my version - hopefully correct now!
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Captain...or Skully
climber
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These stories & my own experiences are why I don't like choppers or flying.
Chilling stories BTW, you guys.
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Edge
Trad climber
New Durham, NH
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I have only been on three helicopter rides, all associated with the same rescue. I am glad I didn't have this thread to reflect on prior to jumping in the mechanical hummingbird. The following is a cut and paste from an article I wrote years after the fact:
In October of 1984 I was recruited by Yosemite Search and Rescue to help with what, at the time, was their largest ever technical rescue. An early season snowstorm had blown in over night and dumped 4 inches of powder on my tent in the Valley floor, and much more in the high country. The next morning most climbers packed up and drove to Joshua Tree or warmer climes, while my friend Doug and I waited until afternoon to do what we do best. We went to the bar to drink.
In need of climbers to help with the mission, one of the lead rescuers knew where to look for able bodies. He approached us mid-beverage, and asked if we would be willing to help rescue two Japanese climbers stranded on the last pitch of the Nose, two Americans on Zodiac, and Ed Drummond soloing the NA Wall. Doug looked at me and said the same thing that I was thinking, “If it were us up there, we would want people to help”. We told him that we were in.
As night was approaching, we were told to get some sleep and at 5 am report to a shuttle bus that would take us to the backside of the Captain, where we would walk in. The next morning we were driven to the trailhead, but when the weather cleared, helicopters began showing up to ferry us to the summit. I boarded a Navy chopper with Doug and another friend, and the pilot informed us that he needed to refuel in the Meadows. We started out by flying about 100 feet above the tree line, and then suddenly over the edge of the Captain for 3000 feet of instant exposure. To say that we were impressed would be an understatement.
We spiraled down, passing the Cathedral Rocks, then Sentinel Rock, and eventually we landed amid the crowd of onlookers in the Meadows. When the Navy refueling rig refused to work, a private chopper was called in to pick us up. I sat in the front seat right next to the pilot, who headed straight for the Nose and then climbed completely vertically, straight up the route, about 75 feet away. In the back seat, Les was screaming, "Look at Boot Flake". "There's the King Swing." "Check out the Great Roof; we're having fun now!"
At this point the pilot turned around to look at Les (I'm thinking, um, please look where you are going...) and said, "You're having fun, Huh? Well those two guys on the Nose are dead!"
That was the first we had heard of this, as we had assumed everyone was OK and just needed help getting off. Sure enough, a few seconds later we passed them. The leader had fallen trying to get off the iced up final pitch, and was hanging in space, spinning in air with icicles clearly visible on his fingertips. The second had tried to find refuge under the portaledge fly, and had eventually died there from the exposure. Our hearts sunk.
Several minutes later Doug and Les were dropped off at one spot to hump loads to the team atop Zodiac, and then I was dropped off at the trail to the top of NA Wall. When the chopper took off leaving me atop a snow covered Captain with a big bag of gear, I looked around at the beautiful scene and the lack of anyone in site. When the chopper disappeared from view over the treetops, I thought of the two Japanese climbers on the Nose and felt an overwhelming emptiness. There was nothing to do but grab the bag and report to the edge team.
Working with that crew on the edge of El Cap was at once a privilege, a joy, and a wonderment. We rigged anchors then lowered Werner Braun on a single rope to the stranded climber 500 feet below the top. Werner was able to throw a line in to the famous Brit, who pulled him into the wall. Later, after many preparations, they both jugged slowly to safety. Similar actions were happening over atop Zodiac, where the two climbers were suffering from mild frostbite. While both the Zodiac and NA Wall rescues were successful, a ranger had been lowered to the Japanese pair to confirm their deaths; the body recovery would take place the next day.
With climbers and gear now retrieved, we hiked up to our camp for the night, as darkness now precluded the choppers from operating. We all spent the night atop El Cap under makeshift tarpaulin tents in barely warm enough Park Service sleeping bags, bodies strewn like logs, huddling to stay warm. My third and last ever helicopter ride the next morning circumnavigated west, dropped into the Valley over Cookie Cliff, and deposited me in El Cap Meadow. From there a shuttle brought us to Yosemite Village, where I began walking back to Camp 4 (Sunnyside at the time).
On my way there, I passed a Japanese climber; he was part of a tight knit group who had taken over two side-by-side sites with a large group of tents. By now they all knew that their friends had passed on the Nose and when he saw me returning in my double boots and overnight pack he knew that I had been involved in the rescue. I will always remember the look on his face as he recognized me for my efforts, and saluted.
I left early the following day, 15 climbers pushing my starterless truck through the snow in the parking lot so that I could pop the clutch. Within two days Doug and I were enjoying the warmth of Moab and the bite of Supercrack's jams, seemingly a lifetime away from the Captain, but experiences like this never really leave you.
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Ward Trotter
Trad climber
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Excellent , well-written article . It provides a perspective not often appreciated surrounding these events. Like many of the posts on this thread.
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Gene
climber
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Does anyone know when the first helicopter-assited rescue in YV took place?
g
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mucci
Trad climber
The pitch of Bagalaar above you
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^^^^1985 Half dome rescue, was the 1st use of the short haul tech I believe in Yos. Not sure about "Assisted"
Nothing more scary than having a bird right on top of you, for a few moments anything can happen.
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mooch
Trad climber
Old Climbers' Home (Adopted)
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I seem to recall a rescue attempt of a climber who was badly injured after taking a fall on Braille Book. Lemoore SAR managed to get him into the litter along with the SAR tech. As they lifted off, the pilot failed to lift off far enough for the litter to clear the trees. The litter then caught limbs off the tree, with the crew resorting to pickling the cable and the litter in fear that the helo would be taken down as well. The result: a rescue became a recovery. The SAR tech (who I knew while I was stationed in Lemoore) as injured; collapsed lung, broken ribs and a broken wrist. The climber died on the scene. Circa 2002? Werner?
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cragnshag
Social climber
san joser
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BigWallPaul and I were up on Lower Cathedral Rock East Buttress during the Braille Book rescue and heli mishap. We only saw the chopper on the way up to the extraction and after it cleared Middle on the way down, but I noticed that the load swinging below it appeared to make the heli difficult to control- and it seemed a long time (4 minutes?) before the pilot could gain control enough to land in ECM without swing the load into the ground. The load kept swinging back and forth and appeared to be moving the heli like the tail wagging the dog. Due to the distance and the shape of the load we both assumed it was some heavy haulbags that were hanging below. We did not find out until the next day that the "load" was the fallen climber and the attendant.
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Largo
Sport climber
The Big Wide Open Face
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Those are very fascinating stories for many reasons. I can't stop reading that stuff. I have a story about a near copter accident up on Middle and if I can fine it I'll post it.
JL
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Largo
Sport climber
The Big Wide Open Face
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HERE IT IS. Strangely, Peter Barton figures into this one as well:
On The Wire
I was eighteen years old with almost no experience and had only been in Yosemite Valley for a week. By the oddest coincidence, my cousin, Roger Rudolph, was head backcountry ranger and allied with the budding Search and Rescue Team. Late one afternoon Roger rushed into camp and over to my site. There’d been a climbing accident on the East Buttress of Middle Cathedral, two pitches below the summit; a leader fall and a head injury. A helicopter was heading in to ferry the Valley czars Jim Bridwell and Mark Klemons to the top of Middle to conduct a rescue. In case that plan did not work, the Park Service needed another team to trudge to the top of Middle, schlepping an enormous green backpack at Roger’s feet. If the Bridwell/ Klemons team hadn’t set down by the time we gained the top, I’d rap to the victim and . . . well, we’d flesh out the plan from there.
“You handle that?” Roger asked. Roger was about 15 years older than me and a mentor who had skied 100 miles across Tioga Pass in winter, carted injured hikers out of the backcountry on his back, and ran a government department with 40 men. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing but if Roger thought I was worthy I’d go with it.
“I’m in,” I said.
“Meet me back here in five,” Roger said. I dashed for Camp 4’s rescue site, urgent to find someone who could handle the job. Luckily I found Englishman Ben Campbell-Kelly lounging around camp, recovering from an early ascent of the North American Wall with his countryman Bryan Wyvill. I explained the situation, and that I needed him along, and Ben said, “Let’s go, man.”
Roger, Ben and I manhandled the pack into Roger’s squad car and a few minutes later he dropped us at the roadside below Middle Cathedral.
“You’ll have to bust ass, boys,” said Roger. “You got about three hours of daylight. You know where you’re going?”
“Exactly,” I said. I’d climbed the East Buttress but it took all day and we hacked down the descent gulley at night. I didn’t remember a thing about it.
I shouldered the pack and staggered up through the pines toward the gully left of Middle. I couldn’t have had a better man alongside me than Ben Campbell-Kelly, a proven veteran of these walls, solid as Solomon.
Shortly we entered a steep labyrinth of dead-end trails, teetering minarets and low-angled choss corridors. We hadn’t a clue about a proper path and never found one. For two hours we flailed and cursed our way up that gully, sometimes hand-carrying the pack and shoving it through a pinch when we couldn’t wiggle through with it on our backs. We could more easily have dragged a moped up that gulley than that pack. About halfway up we heard a copter circling above, and Ben and I wondered if we weren’t killing ourselves for nothing.
When we finally busted out onto the shoulder beneath Middle’s shapeless summit, Ben claimed he’d burned more gas and lost more hide grappling up that damned gully than he had climbing El Capitan. I shouldered the pig, and with Ben shoving from behind, we trudged up grainy slabs toward the top. Only the crown of El Capitan shimmered in light. We had maybe an hour before night fell like a curtain.
A few minutes later we met a team who’d just topped out on the East Buttress. In their late 20s, both wore colorful, long-sleeved rugby shirts and thin, white navy pants, the formal costume of the ’70s Yosemite climber. I wondered about these guys’ lives, and their jobs that allowed them to have just fixed two brand-new ropes above the injured climber, before dashing back to San Fran for work and family. They’d fetch their ropes later, or never.
The two men said that gusting winds kept the copter from landing on the summit, scrubbing the Bridwell/Klemons rescue effort. I confirmed as much with Roger, over the walkie-talkie. We thanked the two climbers and moved over to the fixed lines. I clipped in and started down, battling not to get pulled over backward by the pack.
Ben shouldered the pig for the last rap and we touched down on a lower-angled, terraced recess by a big pine tree growing straight out of the rock. The injured climber — I never learned his name — lay curled in a fetal knot on a sloping ledge scarcely bigger than his body.
His partner, Peter Barton, sitting dejectedly on a shelf 10 feet below, had tied the victim taut to a cluster of pitons. Ben and I rigged a line off the victim’s anchor and moved to a small, tapering ledge 10 feet lower. According to Peter, the victim had taken a tumbling fall and banged the back of his head. Though partially responsive at first, he hadn’t moved in two or three hours.
I asked Ben what he knew about first aid and he said, “Nothing.” Since I was the son of a doctor, Ben reckoned I’d absorbed essential medical know-how by association, and suggested I paddle up to the victim and play doctor.
The victim’s breathing seemed smooth, though hurried. He mumbled now and then but couldn’t answer any questions. On the back of his head the hair was raked off in one spot, but no shocking dent or gash. As to how this guy looked, or even his age, I can’t say. Had the victim looked at me, or said something instead of just lying inert, I might remember his eyes, or his face. But it’s all a blank.
I reported the victim’s condition to Roger, over the radio, and he said to pack the guy into a sleeping bag — there was one inside the giant pack — and to watch his airway. It took all three of us to wheedle the victim into the bag. I felt useless, knowing this guy needed assistance we couldn’t hope to provide. Roger said there wasn’t much more to do, and to just settle in for the night. Back at park headquarters, Bridwell and two rescue rangers were devising a strategy for tomorrow. Pray the victim somehow holds on. Over and out.
Ben and I rapped to the lower ledge and sat back. The slab dropped below for 20 or so feet, then the wall steepened and plunged out of sight. Peering off that perch, I hunkered down for my first bivouac on a rock wall.
We dug into the pack and found a headlamp, several gallons of water, a 12-pack of lemonade mix, a wall rack, a lead rope, a great mass of pulleys and bewildering rescue tackle, a frightening 12-inch knife, two balaclavas, a second radio, several packs of batteries, a first-aid kit that folded out like an accordion, a shovel, a compass, two ensolite pads, and 20 other items I can’t remember — but not so much as a breadstick to eat.
“We’re buggered,” said Ben. Thankfully we had a couple packs of smokes between us and we lit up, gazing into the gloom. Far below, the earth seemed to open up, then night crawled out and swallowed the wall and the world.
Ben, 30, had a rowdy head of red hair and an elegant sideburn-goatee constellation befitting the British academic he was in the private world. His calm, rational manner was a balm to my willies which, after an hour in pitch darkness, were once more rearing up and stampeding over my resolve. To divert myself I pried Ben about his many adventures on big walls in Norway, the Alps and of course most recently the great El Capitan. His comments were so understated I came to believe that sitting there on that tiny ledge in my flimsy white navy pants and a T-shirt was no big deal after all. I admired myself for throwing in with the Yosemite hardmen and, around midnight, figured I was nearly one myself. Then it got very cold, and the victim started wailing in tongues. Peter asked what the hell we were going to do, and things went south from there.
Ben and I took turns making sure the man didn’t swallow his tongue or do something worse. The guy bit our fingers down to the wood, and sometimes his arms flailed and his legs churned inside the bag. We couldn’t have been less helpful.
Around dawn, the victim quieted, and might have died for all we knew. The notion frightened me so I hand-walked up the slab and found him still alive, but apparently in a coma. We couldn’t do a thing. I returned to the ledge and shimmied my legs into the big pack for warmth. I never knew a person could feel so wasted. Then Roger cut in over the radio. A copter was blading in from Livermore Air Force base to attempt an “extraction.” This was long before cliff rescue techniques had been standardized and neither Ben nor I knew what they were talking about. Roger explained. Bridwell had reckoned that at our present location, the wall was sufficiently low-angled to allow a copter to hover some hundreds of feet above, and lower a litter down on a cable winch.
“That should be pretty good theater!” said Ben. And we’d be seeing it momentarily, as the percussive thumping of copter blades started echoing up the Valley.
“Will you look at that bugger!” Ben yelled. Whatever copter I had envisioned, it wasn’t the monstrosity hoving to several hundred feet above. Big as a Greyhound bus, it looked like something out of Star Wars. Two enormous blades produced a pulsing thunder that rattled our bones and shot down a shaft of prop wash that swirled every pine needle and bit of turf into a choking tornado. I thrust my head into the big pack and when I pulled it back out, the surroundings looked as if it had been scrubbed with a wire brush. A soldier stepped from the open cargo bay door of the copter and lowered down on a cable, like a dummy on a string. He sat on a “chaparral Leveler,” a bullet-shaped cylinder the size of a fire hydrant with two fold-down metal flaps on the bottom. Later someone said they used to swoop the Leveler through “hot zones” during the Viet Nam campaign, and would pluck out of the fire anyone who could mount the Leveler at speed.
The giant Sikorsky “Hercules” stayed glued in the sky and the soldier slowly descended perhaps 175 feet until finally touching down on the slab about 10 feet below our ledge. Whoever piloted the ship was a dead-eye who basically delivered the soldier in our laps. With his huge helmet and smoky visor, plus the dashing Air Force jumpsuit, the soldier looked like Flash Gordon. The moment Flash stepped off the chaparral Leveler he was unroped, 1,600 feet off the deck. His mountaineering boots skedaddled on the slab as his hands pawed for a hold, and we knew right off Flash Gordon was no climber.
Ben quickly anchored off a loop of rope, handwalked down and clipped in Flash, who pulled up his smoky visor, exposing the face of a 15-year-old boy, which he compensated for by screaming out his orders. The plan sounded basic and, surprisingly, went off without a hitch. The copter lowered down a litter and we loaded up and lashed down the victim, who was winched straight into the hovering ship.
“OK,” said Flash, staring at the ship still hanging directly overhead. “Who’s going with me?”
“How’s that?” Ben asked. We’d figured Flash would jug out on the fixed lines with Ben, Peter and me.
“I’m going out on the Leveler,” said Flash. “And it gets squirrelly with one man. I need another guy to balance the load.”
“I’ll go,” I said without thinking.
“Good man,” Ben replied. He’d climb El Cap in a snowstorm but he wasn’t daft enough to volunteer to get winched off a Yosemite wall on a guitar string. I wasn’t courageous, I’d just opened up my trap and blurted.
The next 15 minutes passed in a blur. I remember just before sitting onto the Leveler that Flash said not to worry and to simply hold on tight. We sat, face-to-face, on two metal flaps barely larger than my hand. This set us up like two guys bear-hugging with a flagpole between them. There were no straps or tie-ins at all.
Suddenly the cable came taut and my stomach fell into my boots as we were pulled off the wall and into mid-air. After 10 feet we started yawing side to side and the copter motored out away from the wall, initiating a harrowing pendulum. Lest we smacked the face, the pilot swept even farther out into open space, away from the wall, which set us swinging in wild horizontal arcs. Only vaguely could I feel the winch pulling us up as we sliced through the air like trapeze artists hitched to the moon. I remember flashing on a saucy French tourist girl I’d met in the cafeteria, and how she’d probably have to spend the rest of her life without me now. With nothing more to lose, I enjoyed the indescribable view as best I could.
About 15 feet from the cargo door, right when we stopped swinging, we began spinning, faster and faster. In 30 seconds I felt so dizzy I thought I might pass out and pitch off. Then they shut off the winch and we dropped a few horrible feet and wrenched to a stop. I glanced up and saw a flurry of airmen fiddling around the winch, which started back up with a lurch and then stopped again, with Flash and me dangling about waist-level with the open cargo bay door. Flash was nearest the ship, and one of the airman reached down and yanked him on board. This instantly rocked the Leveler out of balance and I nearly fell off. For a moment the airmen, with curious blank looks on their faces, stared down at me dangling in space. Then Bridwell appeared from somewhere, grabbed a strut on the door and reached down his hand — and his was the Hand of God if ever I saw it. We locked arms; the Bird yanked and I shot off the flap and belly flopped into the bay. The Bird, who’d been spotting for the pilot, gave a thumbs up and the big ship banked and headed for El Cap Meadow.
Several medics huddled over the victim. His vital signs checked out and they figured his chances were good (I later learned he did survive, following several operations to relieve pressure on his brainpan), which amazed and relieved me. Several minutes later the big ship touched down. In a 50-yard radius the tall grass in Yosemite Meadow was pummeled flush as the pitch on a putting green. Bridwell and I jumped out and the ship thumped off for the trauma unit in Fresno.
Roger rushed up and started laughing and smacking me. I’d expected an official reception, or at any rate a swelling tourist mob. But it was barely seven in the morning and the three of us found ourselves alone in the middle of the meadow. In a few short minutes, everything went still and quiet. It seemed as if nothing had ever happened. But something had. In the midst of a firestorm of personal doubts, circumstances had conspired to knit me into the very fabric of Yosemite life — with the Park Service, the rescue team, the climbers of the day and the great walls that remained our hope and our passion. From that moment on I accepted doubt and fear as the lot of every Yosemite climber, and never again did I question where I should play out my youth.
A few summers later I fell in with Peter Barton, the partner of the victim on the Middle Cathedral rescue. We teamed up for several significant climbs, including the first ascent of Stoner’s Highway, also on Middle. A year later, while ferrying loads up to the West Face of El Capitan, Peter lost his footing on a steep bit and suffered a tumbling fall that proved fatal. A helicopter flew in from Livermore to recover Peter’s body. Over the steep moraine below the West Face, the copter experienced mechanical problems and ditched in the boulders, the crew barely escaping when the ship burst into flames. His mother released Peter’s ashes over El Cap.
I haven’t seen Ben since the rescue on Middle. I trust he’s doing well.
Several years later, Roger went to the Grand Tetons.
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Ihateplastic
Trad climber
It ain't El Cap, Oregon
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I never climbed with Peter Barton but who could forget his red mop. That guy was visible for miles!
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Captain...or Skully
climber
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"Nice"? That was a Helluva story. I can SEE it. Feel the rotor wash.
Holy sh#t balls, as Leggs would say....
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WBraun
climber
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A helicopter flew in from Livermore
That's not "Livermore" but "NAS Lemoore" Naval Air Station.
http://www.cnic.navy.mil/lemoore/
Anyways very well written ........
I also remember you had that one guy on Washington Column piggy back on your back getting him down off Diner Ledge I believe it was.
Only a big guy like you could have managed that!
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GhoulweJ
Trad climber
El Dorado Hills, CA
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JL
As usual, great writing!
Quite a story, glad I got to read it.
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Leggs
Sport climber
Home away from Home
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Goodness ... JL, the experience you've shared is chilling...(great writing)
This entire thread is... I'm not sure I can find the right words, except to say *thank you* to all who risk their lives to save others ... or perhaps my words would be "Holy Sh#t Balls". (hi Capt.)
Thank you all for sharing your experiences... my condolences for the loss of your cherished friends and fellow climbers and/or rescue crew members.
~peace, Leggs
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Largo
Sport climber
The Big Wide Open Face
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That's not "Livermore" but "NAS Lemoore" Naval Air Station.
Gene Malone just got hold of me per this error. Thanks for clearing that one up. My notes for this story were pretty sketchy per place names.
And Warner, I'll have to write up that crazy rescue off Dinner Ledge when they lowered me all the way to the deck with Lurch (225 lbs) strapped to my back. But not here. This is Ed's chopper thread.
JL
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Largo
Sport climber
The Big Wide Open Face
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Anyone have more pics of these events? It's like MASH or something.
JL
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Gene
climber
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I have vague memories of watching an injured climber pulled off of Middle Cathedral by a chopper in about 1972-1973. As I recall, it took place midway between the EB and NB. I think John Long's story happened a few years later.
Anyone?
g
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Rick A
climber
Boulder, Colorado
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This thread has become a classic. Thanks for riveting contributions from all sides.
JL- Loved the story! Evokes those first trips to Yosemite when our great aspiration was to feel like we belonged there.
Tim Setnika’s book, Wilderness Search and Rescue (Appalachian Mountain Club 1980)has an account of the Barton crash from Tim’s perspective, just below the chopper on a ledge:
The pilot was grinning at us, and we could see [ranger] Henry preparing to pull the litter into the ship as it rapidly rose on the hoist cable. The crew chief started to reach out and grab the litter when suddenly the helicopter rocked once to the left. We both thought that odd. An instant later the engines suddenly altered pitch and the helo dropped without warning and banked hard to the left, narrowly missing us on the ledge. I saw the surprise in the crew chief’s face as he braced himself and shot a glance at the pilots before the helo fell from view…
The photos prompted memories of Peter Barton around C4. Nice guy.
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rottingjohnny
Sport climber
mammoth lakes ca
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Largo...Was it Lurch or his harpsichord...?
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Rick A
climber
Boulder, Colorado
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A terrible crash that had close ties to Yosemite climbing, but happened in Nevada.
In about 1974 or 1975 that I joined a rescue on Half Dome where the Camp 4 contingent was Bev Johnson, Sybille Hechtel, Mike Graham, Richard Harrison, John Yablonski and a couple of others I can’t recall. I’ll never forget being ferried up, two passengers at a time, in the glass bubble cockpit of the Bell B-1, my first ride in a helicopter.
It was an “E-ticket ride” as the old saying went, with a superlative view. Some cold and wet climbers were successfully pulled off the Northwest Face a couple of pitches from the top and all went well. I am not sure, but I believe that the pilot of that contract helicopter may have been a man named David Walton.
David Walton was also the pilot of the helicopter that crashed in a heli-ski accident in the Ruby Mountains of Nevada in 1994. The crash killed Walton, Bev Johnson, Paul Scannell, and Frank Wells, the president of the Walt Disney company. Mike Hoover, Bev’s husband, was the only survivor.
I found on the internet a letter Hoover wrote after he settled his products liability lawsuit against Bell. It details the catastrophe that lurks if a helicopter’s engines happen to fail. Hoover states that Walton knew Bev Johnson from her days on helicopter rescues in Yosemite.
[url=" http://bobschuster.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/helicopter_maker.pdf"]
The cause of this crash that killed four may have been snow ingested into the engine, perhaps as little as what you can fit in a shot glass.
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BASE104
Social climber
An Oil Field
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It is very different to read these accounts on the internet compared to hearing the stories told after a few beers in C4 with nobody listening.
There is this one guy who would take the most gory details imaginable and have you busting a gut over it.
Gallows humor, you might say, but no. Just twistedness.
I could start typing and get kicked off of ST in 15 minutes...
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WBraun
climber
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Rick A
a couple of pitches from the top
Dave Diegelman (sp?) and Bill Price they were the guys we rescued on that one.
They were much farther down (several hundred feet).
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bhilden
Trad climber
Mountain View, CA
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Note to Ken Yager... [not Yeager]
are these helicopter crash sites some good work projects for a future Yosemite Facelift?
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Peter Haan
Trad climber
Santa Cruz, CA
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Good for Mike Hoover. The man must be seventy this year.... Thanks Ricky. An utterly heartbreaking, incredibly well put together piece of great power and even-handed brooding.
Tom Carter has told me that Bev died in his arms that day in the snow. I guess he was with another helo or was planning on going down differently somehow.
I am still in denial that Bev has left us. Still, 19 years later. It just doesn't seem possible.
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Ed Hartouni
Trad climber
Livermore, CA
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Topic Author's Reply - Apr 9, 2013 - 11:45pm PT
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But not here. This is Ed's chopper thread.
it's not my thread, it's our thread... come on Stonemaster... we're all in this together!
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Captain...or Skully
climber
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Apr 10, 2013 - 12:04am PT
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Right on, Ed.
Note to everyone. It's "Yager". He's too kind to correct you.
Cheers!
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WBraun
climber
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Apr 10, 2013 - 12:11am PT
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There were 2 choppers Peter.
Hoover told me the whole story when we were in Amazon ......
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Rick A
climber
Boulder, Colorado
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Apr 10, 2013 - 12:14am PT
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Werner,
Sorry my memory omitted you (of all people) from the Camp 4 contingent and mistated the distance.
I was trying to visualize the faces of those of us in the galley crew on the rope line. You were on the sharp end of the lower, it now seems to me.
This probably gave you a greater appreciation of how far down you went! Did someone else get lowered down after you, Kauk maybe?
Rick
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Reilly
Mountain climber
The Other Monrovia- CA
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Apr 10, 2013 - 12:15am PT
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Rick A, I can assure you that a 'shot glass' of snow is not going to put out the fire in any turbine engine that is being properly operated, or even improperly operated in any conceivable circumstance. Without actually reading an unbiased analysis I can only assume that this was a case of product liabilty justice run amok. If that were the case there would be 500 crashes a day at Sea-Tac, on a good day.
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Russ Walling
Social climber
from Poofters Froth, Wyoming
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Apr 10, 2013 - 12:22am PT
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Just a couple quick adds here:
Edge: the Japanese on the Nose... The way it played out was the leader got to the anchor right near the top and was not involved in a fall nor was hanging in space. He clipped the anchor with his gear sling only and then slumped onto it. It was speculated that his partner, the one under the tarp (I'm pretty sure to positive there was no portaledge) may have even jugged up the line, inadvertently "hanging" his partner in the process. He was probably toast before the jugging is the thought on that one. Me and Bill Russell were the pluckers on that one, with Werner being cargo net guy.
Edit: It is all coming back to me now... his partner did jug all the way up to the leader, on his neck basically, and brought the tarp with him. They were both under it and died there. At the anchors below was the haul bag, with some less than adequate storm gear, but if I recall, in a dry location. They made a summit run and did not make it I guess.
I was on the Zodiac rescue portion of the deal above too and was the guy lowered down to the vics. There was no frostbite and they were bone dry when I got there and even offered me a bagel! I was lowered on twin lines, pretty far as I recall, maybe 700ft?. They jugged out and I cut the bags loose with a very sharp knife. Dill went nuts, but it seemed like the best thing to do at the time. F*#k hauling that sh#t out and being there all night pulling on a cord. The ranger Dan Dellinges (sp) was running the top scene and made me wear his exposure suit, just in case I could not get out by nightfall... so I'm jugging the line in this f*#king down suit with both ends of the fat static lines hanging on me... thought I was going to have a stroke. I think it was like 700ft of line X2 or something. F*#king heavy! We top out and then I think it was me and MCDevitt and maybe Billy that had to remove all the fixed lines that led back the the summit camp. We were postholing in snow and coiling ropes as we went back to the summit. We looked like rope covered Michelin men by the time we got to the summit camp, about midnight. What a gasser. We were totally spent, and all the dinner was gone, as were the sleeping bags and ensolite pads. Trail crew did not bring enough sh#t up there and we were out of luck. Billy Russell had a bivy sack and dug a hole in the snow and layed down in it. I had nothing and just layed down on the snow and called that a bivy. The next am is when we got the Japanese off the wall.
Another one Werner will remember: Some dudes(solo dude?) on the Prow are supposedly dying in a snow storm. Me and Dimitri honk it up the North Dome Gulley as the blitz team and I have an umbrella tucked in the back of my Hawaiian shirt for rain gear.... they decide the ship from Lemoore can fly and bring it in.... the helo guy does this insane one skid thing right on the tip of the Column and has like no clearance between trees in a high wind... we are hiding behind a rock figuring he is going to stuff the bird any second... anyway, rescue gets completed and we are waiting for the ride down. Weather has gotten worse... ship comes back in and for sure looks like it is going to crash this time. We are still hiding behind the big rock and get the wave to get on the ship... Werner says "no f*#kin way man!" and decides right then to go back down the North Dome Gully, in the snow, with like a cordalette and 3 nuts or something. No way I'm hiking down so we bail for the ship. I get like 3/4 of my mass in the door and the pilot peels away from the cliff at some insane angle and drops like a rock. My f*#king esophagus is now about 2 feet outside my mouth and I was sure we were all dead. He flattens out the drop and cruises back to the LZ. Holy sh#t, that one was desperate.
I bet The Chief has a ton of these as I think he was a Lemoore Navy guy BITD. Hell, might have been on some of these as the timeframe is just about right.
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WBraun
climber
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Apr 10, 2013 - 12:29am PT
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Yes Rick it was Ron.
Also Yabo was not there.
I didn't pick him. i picked everyone but him for some strange reason.
Yabo was so pissed at me for that for awhile.
Me and Ron flew first flight to the top to size up where we needed to lower from at the top.
We couldn't see sh!t because it was socked in with clouds.
So I just made an educated guess based on previous knowledge.
As you know we lowered one rope with no one on it and miraculously it made it right on top of them even though we were going visually blind due to the clouds .....
Edit: Russ .... that's some funny sh!t you wrote. LOL
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Rick A
climber
Boulder, Colorado
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Apr 10, 2013 - 01:09am PT
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Reilly,
I have no way to judge whether Hoover's conclusions about the causes of that particular accident and particular 1990s model of helicopter are well supported by the facts, subject to debate, or just wrong. He writes persuasively though, cites his sources, and you certainly cannot doubt that he was sincere.
Products liability cases like that are battles waged between experts, so I'll bet Hoover had listened to hours of expert opinion before he wrote the letter.
Regardless, the value of the letter to me is Hoover's remembrance of Bev Johnson, who I talked to only on that day up on Half Dome.
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Ward Trotter
Trad climber
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Apr 10, 2013 - 01:13am PT
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Best thread going on ST right now- and best thread in quite some time.
Roger Ebert gives it 5 stars.
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Leggs
Sport climber
Home away from Home
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Apr 10, 2013 - 01:26am PT
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Best thread going on ST right now- and best thread in quite some time.
Roger Ebert gives it 5 stars.
best thread... by far...
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BooDawg
Social climber
Butterfly Town
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Apr 10, 2013 - 03:23am PT
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What about the Pete Sprocher rescue off Sentinel Rock? Was that the first heli-assisted rescue? 1965 or '66. I think he and Joe Faint (?) were on the Steck-Salathe and a rock fell on Pete and pinned him beneath it. Joe used webbing, I think, to wrap around the rock and attached the slings to some anchors, bolts, I think, that he placed above Pete and the rock pinning him. Then Joe used his hammer as a turnbuckle to lift the rock off of Pete, meanwhile calling to the Valley below for help.
Was a chopper used to ferry the rescue team to the summit of Sentinel? I believed they lowered rescuers from the summit to reach Pete, and they winched him up from there. I wasn't involved in the rescue, but I did visit Pete in Lewis B. Memorial Hospital in the Valley where he had a compound fracture of one of his legs where the rock had landed on and pinned him.
Edit: Yes, Julia, you got that right. I hope you are looking forward to a great spring-summer season.
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hossjulia
Trad climber
Where the Hoback and the mighty Snake River meet
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Apr 10, 2013 - 08:40am PT
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Ah Boo Dawg, stayed up late to read the whole thing?
I could not and left it open on my browser to finish with my morning coffee.
Great thread. I remember reading about many of these accidents after the fact. Very cool to read about them first person.
I was working for Paul Ramer when the Ruby Mtn.s incident happened. Sobering. He had been telling me how great the skiing was in the Rubies.
Condolences to the departed friends and family's.
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BooDawg
Social climber
Butterfly Town
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Apr 10, 2013 - 11:45am PT
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You could be right, Kevin; obviously my memory has fogged up with the passage of time. Yes, it was quite a tale, especially the lifting of the rock with the makeshift turnbuckle. Very ingenious and resourceful. I hope someone else chimes in here to fill in the details.
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BooDawg
Social climber
Butterfly Town
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Apr 11, 2013 - 12:50am PT
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Perhaps Werner or John Dill or Jessie could search the YOSAR archives to see if there is any record of the Spoecker incident. Obviously, if they got down on their own, there might be no record at all.
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Peter Haan
Trad climber
Santa Cruz, CA
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Apr 11, 2013 - 01:18am PT
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I have to think that Tom Carter @ the Ruby Mtn operation will join in, but perhaps not. It was so painful and the legal debacle lingered over years such that one more word might be too much today. I think that this tale might have all been told in previous old threads here, as well.
I remember Pete Spoecker. (note the spelling) He was all gung ho at Indian Rock for a while and then like such types, got nearly killed on that climb. I think he had been climbing only three years, maybe even fewer. He was entranced with pitch difficulty too. Really hyper and compulsive, I should say. After, he quit, for all we knew. He was a friend of Steve Herrero. Steve later became some world expert on bears up in Canada/Alaska. At Berkeley, he was doing some research on THC.... I did Matterhorn Peak in the dead of winter with him and Dave Trantor. I was an adolescent then and these what seemed old geezers were thrilled to have me along. -15 F at night below the summit where we had a camp deep in the snow. For those who don't know, Joe Faint has left us some while ago.
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Peter Haan
Trad climber
Santa Cruz, CA
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Apr 11, 2013 - 01:44am PT
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Clint, there might have been a subsequent ascent. Spoecker was injured climbing. They were going for "time", as I recall. Ever so long ago, however.
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Dr.Sprock
Boulder climber
I'm James Brown, Bi-atch!
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Apr 11, 2013 - 04:31am PT
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any good car wrecks in the valley?
like a tour bus going off glacier or getting stuck in a Taft Point crevasse?
anybody remember the meat wagon that got stuck in the tree with the accident victim?
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Clint Cummins
Trad climber
SF Bay area, CA
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Apr 11, 2013 - 05:29am PT
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Clint, there might have been a subsequent ascent. Spoecker was injured climbing.
Good point, Peter. Roper's Camp 4 has the accident date as 6/24/1965, so it was indeed 10 days after his ascent with Steve Herrero.
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John Duffield
Mountain climber
New York
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Apr 11, 2013 - 01:52pm PT
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I’ll never forget being ferried up, two passengers at a time, in the glass bubble cockpit of the Bell B-1, my first ride in a helicopter.
It was an “E-ticket ride” as the old saying went,
My first chopper ride was strapped into the wire basket outside of one of these. "E Ticket" (I'm old enough to have bought these) is right. I was trying not to drown in my own vomit.
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tom Carter
Social climber
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Apr 11, 2013 - 02:18pm PT
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Peter -
I actually wrote a few thoughts down yesterday. Reviewed them, and had second thoughts about posting the story. So many details.
It can all be reduced.... Life is simple, life is complex - and I don't know if the details would shed any light on the event. I do not feel more regs would prevent that particular accident. But that is solely my opinion.
On a more positive note - Can we turn this into a heli-rescue thread ?
How about getting FBIII (Frank Brown the 3rd) or anybody involved in his heli rescue from the Arrowhead Chimney to post up? That one had Frank white knuckled for sure - and a happy ending too!
TC
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Alan Rubin
climber
Amherst,MA.
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Apr 11, 2013 - 03:37pm PT
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Very good thread. The mentions of Pete Barton (and Peter Haan's great picture of him)bring back many fine memories of a summer spent with him in the Valley and great sadness at his loss. Even though I really only knew him that summer he was an all-around great guy---he became a good friend and I still miss him very much.
Earlier in the thread there was a query about the first helicopter rescue in the Valley. While I doubt it was the first, I remember a rescue on the East Buttress of El Cap during the summer of '72.I know that Bridwell got a group of us together and we went up to the base of the buttress prepared to do a ground-up rescue, but the chopper was able to winch the climber off without our assistance. I don't recall if the victim survived the accident.
Later that summer I had my only helicopter rides during the recovery of Roger Park's body from the upper part of the Salathe-Steck---another friend sadly lost doing our sport. We were ferried one at a time up to the top of Sentinel in the little Bell "bubble". The pilot made a one skid "touch landing" right at the edge of the north face and we had to get out quickly but gently so that the bird didn't wobble out of control. I remember being chided for too hasty an exit!!!Leaving was worse as the chopper didn't even really touch a skid and we had to get in--again quckly but gently--while it was hovering and before I had fully entered the cabin we were already over the Valley and headed down toward the meadow. I remember that Charlie Porter, and maybe others, elected to descend the gully rather than take the ride. It was an amazing flight but for the sadness of our mission.
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Peter Haan
Trad climber
Santa Cruz, CA
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Apr 11, 2013 - 04:03pm PT
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Yeah, Alan. Rescues can be the wildest combinations of emotions we experience as "people". They often are so exhausting psychologically even if the victim is not at all hurt and in desperate, desperate shape.
Let's not forget we had a Peter Barton thread some years back, by the way. The sister in law of Peter Barton, a LauraB set up a thread:
http://www.supertopo.com/climbing/thread.php?topic_id=1288723&msg=1293445#msg1293445
She opens it with:
Hi all! My husband is Peter Barton's youngest brother, who was 16 when Peter died. I am trying to find out information about the accident, how, when it happened. It sounds like from old posts that some of you were there! What can you tell me about the accident? About what Peter was like? Does anyone have pictures of Peter? Thanks for your help!! Laura
And the thread chugged along, got 17 posts and was a good effort by all. Poignant as hell that PB expired. Of all the people, he would have been the least likely to meet his maker back then. A quietly witty, reasonable, diligent young man doing his best in a very modest way.
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WBraun
climber
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Apr 11, 2013 - 07:01pm PT
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We use these guys now.
A lot of the times they seem appear in our rear view mirror when we do don't really want them there (speeding). :-)
But sometimes they are really appreaciated ......
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Jan
Mountain climber
Okinawa, Japan
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Apr 11, 2013 - 09:18pm PT
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Best thread I've read in a long time. Thanks everyone!
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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Dec 31, 2014 - 09:21am PT
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New Years bump is this stuff the frosted flakes?
great!
BUmP
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ß Î Ø T Ç H
Boulder climber
extraordinaire
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... the Japanese on the Nose... The way it played out was the leader got to the anchor right near the top and was not involved in a fall nor was hanging in space. He clipped the anchor with his gear sling only and then slumped onto it. It was speculated that his partner, the one under the tarp (I'm pretty sure to positive there was no portaledge) may have even jugged up the line, inadvertently "hanging" his partner in the process. He was probably toast before the jugging is the thought on that one. Me and Bill Russell were the pluckers on that one, with Werner being cargo net guy.
Edit: It is all coming back to me now... his partner did jug all the way up to the leader, on his neck basically, and brought the tarp with him. They were both under it and died there. I remember driving down the valley to check it out with some people at the time-- the tarp easily visible way up there.
Had always thought the cold had done them in, but appreciate Russ's attention to detail.
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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ugh I am glad I came back here to this thread. That post about the Japanese climbers not freezing but one doing the other in is a harsh happy new year. And following my frosted flakes crack is super Topo inappropriate and that is unfortunate.
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WBraun
climber
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That first Japanese fatality on the Nose years ago wasn't even known at first.
The original rescue started from a call for hep by Edward Drummond on the North American wall.
He was soloing and was hit by a huge winter storm near the top.
"I learned to ask for help on North America Wall on El Capitan.
I was attempting to make the first solo of this route and after fourteen days, and three pitches from the summit,
I got trapped in a terrible storm. My portaledge slowly filled with meltwater. Then eventually,
I farted, and it was cold air that came out of me. Deep inside the furnace had been turned off, and I was going to die.
Then a rescuer appeared and they brought me back to the top. It felt like I’d been brought back from the brink." Anyways they flew me and Shipley on the first flight to size up Edward.
As we flew by the top of the Nose towards the NA wall the Japaneses came into view.
I first thought they were waving at us with that tarp flapping in the wind.
The pilot hovered in closer and we could see there was no sign of life just two frozen bodies attached to the summit anchors.
So we just left them hanging there until the next day because Edward was alive and became the priority.
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