Wilderness Death Climb

While planning a fall backpacking elk hunt and panning around a wilderness area on Google Earth I located the cliff up a big creek drainage I’d hunted a few times.  Made my stomach roll 20 years later as it nearly claimed me and still ranks in the top 5 near death experiences.  4 of my top 20 close calls were in this wilderness area on this very trip.  

I'd seen a nice bull elk guarding a cow from another bull from on top of the largest cliff in the area, rising 1400' vertical in only 875'.  It took me 2 hours to scale down the cliff in stalking mode, then approach across a rockslide where a mountain lion growled at me from her den at only 15 yards. The 45° slope would allow her to step out from under a huge rock and reach me in one jump.  Knocking an arrow provided little protection, as the cat was on my offside, meaning I would have to turn completely around to make a shot, too late.  I flipped off the trigger of a bear spray and slowly proceeded across the unstable rocks, preparing myself to grab the arrow as the lion leapt, dropping the bow as I spun to skewer it as her momentum knocked my down the rocky mountainside.  I told myself to stab her deep and hold onto the pepper spray as it would hurt rolling down the jagged rockslide.  Foot by foot I made my way towards a small tree growing in the middle of the slide, seeking it's shelter.  Realistically the 6" tree would offer little protection but would require the cat to land on the ground to circle the tree, giving me one chance to draw the bow and shoot point blank.  Passing the tree and realizing if she wanted to kill me I'd have never heard her growl and turned on my gps to mark the location so I wouldn't pass nearby in the dark.  Surprised to see a path I'd marked just 50 yards away I remembered while packing an elk out the year prior the mule stopped and refused to continue, causing me to search for and make another path past the area.  Question answered. Proceeding past the slide to a game trail I stopped for a desperately needed rest in a spot I could watch the den 60 yards away through a gap in the trees.  Still exhausted 20 minutes after a snack laid down while holding with the bear spray on my chest I slept for 20 minutes.  Getting up to pursue the elk I looked back to see I'd been watching the wrong crevis in the rockslide while the cat was only 40 yards away!  

Finding where the elk bedded 100y away, their nervous tracks fleeing the area and taking me along the base of cliff.  Knowing I couldn't catch them with dusk closing in I scaled up the cliff to cut them off from the upper meadows above treeline where they would feed during the night.  Old school paper maps and tiny gps screens didn't show the detail and ruggedness above so I began climbing, which quickly turned in to scratching and clawing my way up.  Stopped by a 12' vertical wall I climbed up a leaning log which had slid down the mountain but was blocked by another log crossing my assent.  Climbing off one log as I slid under the next I was able to slip over the top of the wall.  My canteen caught on the log as I squeezed through the narrow gap, knowing I'd crossed a point of no return.  Looking up the only path was a rock chute with 8' sides and crumbled rock and debris in the bottom, essentially a natural slipper slide.  One step on the loose debris meant I was on the way down the slide and expelled off the mountain to the rock rubble 500' below.  I pressed my back against one side while pushing the end of my longbow against the other to pin myself against the wall.  The rock formation was made of thin layers rarely more than half an inch thick, which weather had loosened.  I tapped on the hand sized slabs and if the rock didn't sound solid I would peel it off with my fingers and test the next layer.  Fingertips pulled me forward six inches, taking a step with the uphill foot, moving the tip of the bow six inches, then the lower leg, and repeat for 400 vertical feet as dusk settled in. Rounding a slight curve I came to the end of the chute with a loose dirt wall on my side blocking the summit.  The only object along the steep 20' wall was an exposed root halfway up.  Knowing the dry climate had likely killed the root I cautioned myself not to grab it as I passed, churning and clawing up the wall, stepping on the root as I passed and feeling it crumble.  Topping out on a 2' x 4' landing and seeing it was a false summit, my head hanging off the other side starring down a 300' drop shook me to my core.  My only choices were to remove the string from my bow and tie myself to the lone snag juniper and ride out the night without shelter in the freezing temperatures at 10,000' elevation, or reach the summit.  Exhausted from hours on the cliff my chances of surviving the night and facing the same dilemma in the morning seemed near zero, so pressing on was the only option.  Dark was falling and light fading fast but I allowed myself to rest for ten seconds, collapsing on the ledge, completely relaxing for ten seconds.  While mentally counted off the seconds I told myself there was not another place to rest, not another chance to consider, but it was make summit or die.  Without hesitation I picked myself up and began scrambling up the dirt embankment.  As my boots began slipping in the soft earth and momentum was fading I saw clumps of grass ahead, eagerly grabbing handfuls to propel me forward as the cliff mellowed towards the peak and the ground began levelling out.  Finally standing for the first time in well over an hour, I stepped over a fallen log and spooked the two elk, but even with only one day left in the season I cared little.  I was alive...