Re: [K763] Thread the Needle too
Karen,
The rescue was a joint effort. Alex's brother and sister and I headed to the gorge under cover of darkness. We stopped at the Taos Wal-Mart (can you believe there is such a thing?) and picked up a 2 million candlepower portable light for an "eye in the sky."
We stopped on the bridge, hopped out of my Aztek and shown the light down to the river and rocks 600 feet below. Chris spotted the canopy immediately, Kara found it moments later. I never did see anything but water and rocks.
Chris and I carried our gear under the bridge and fixed anchors about halfway down, just where the gorge gets vertical. I hoped the last 50 feet were a fairly gentle slope, because I had 200' and Chris had 60, leaving us a little short, and we still couldn't see clearly to the river.
I went first (age before beauty) and we slid down without a problem. Chris attatched his rope to the end of mine and I headed down again... to a ledge 50' above the river and nothing but overhung rock.
Sh!t.
I ascended up to Chris. We discussed our options and decided to have Kara scramble to our anchor and remove my 60' rope that was serving as our backup anchor. She untied it, clipped it to our rope and slid it down. I tossed it into my stash bag and rappelled down again.
Something about this rope you should know. It's not really climbing rope, but Air Force surplus 1/2" kermantle from 1988. I don't know why I still keep it, just sentimental I guess. But it's not something you'd want to trust your life to... and that's just what I was doing.
I attached a 1" piece of webbing as a backup if it snapped where I joined it to the REAL climbing rope, climbed down as far as I could, then gingerly put my weight on it. Geez, this was scarier than any BASE jump I've ever done, even with modified skydiving gear. At least I had a reasonable faith in my gear then. I tried to strike a balance between stressing the rope and spending time on it, and made it to the gorge bottom safely.
I unhooked, called up to Chris that I was off the rope and fought through the bushes to the place where the others saw the canopy. Yup, right where their young eyes saw it, along with his stash bag and helmet. Alex's Flik was half inflated with the water, the bridle pulled tight and the PC straining from the current. I waded in, scrambled around the submerged rocks and tried to collect the canopy.
After a few minutes, Chris joined me in the water. We spent 30 minutes in the Rio Grande, trying to free the canopy and risers, finally dragging it onto the rocks that you could call a shore.
We caught our breath as the canopy drained. Chris said, "glad we don't have any cotton on us, huh?" I agreed, then remembered I snagged a sturdy pair of cotton pants, anticipating thorn bushes. Damn. And I was wearing a thick turtleneck as my top layer. Cotton, of course. Hell, I thought, the climb up will keep me warm.
We decided to climb out instead of ascending the rope, following the alleged "trail" that was supposed to be just a little upstream. Long story short, we made it, with the help of Kara's light guiding our way, making it out of the gorge by almost 2am. I was seriously chilled, but made good use of Alex's sleeping bag on the drive back to the hospital.
Security was dubious about visiting someone in ICU at 3:30am, but when I explained we had news for the "bridge jumping guy," he immediately understood and let us in. Alex seemed relieved knowing his gear was back in good hands. He's a good kid, but looks like he has a long road to recovery ahead of him. At least he was getting along well with his nurses.
I made it back home by 6am, just in time to wake up my wife for her work. I snuck in two hours of sleep, claiming my ZX-10 wouldn't start. Kara and Chris had planned on seeing their folks off at the airport later in the morning, then would drive back home to Colorado.
I'm glad I had a chance to help. I would have rather met these fine folks under better circumstances, though.