Mt. Whitney Portal Store & Hostel Forums General Mt. Whitney Portal Store Message Board Whitney Summit Survival 12/9/06 - 12/12/06

My plan seemed simple enough: Head up the trail route on Saturday 12/9/06, stay on the summit, and descend back to the Portal on Sunday 12/10/06 (I have done this 2 other times in winter). The initial reports of the storm expected to move into the area Saturday evening indicated only a light accumulation of snow, so I packed some extra gear, and thought that the weather would just make the climb more interesting (boy, did that change!). It turned out to be a bad, bad time on the mountain.

Here are the nightmare highlights:

12/9/06:
I started hiking from the Portal at 6:00am in clear weather conditions with a temp. of 30 deg. There was very little snow/ice on the trail up to Lone Pine Lake, and a tad more beginning in the Trail Camp area. As I started up the switchbacks (per Richard and Rick this was the route to take due to unconsolidated snow on the slope to the north of the switchbacks last week), I donned crampons and traded trek poles for ice axe due to more snow/ice (and the "Cables" were comming up). I met 2 climbers coming down through the cable section on their way down from the summit. They reminded me of the storm coming in, and I said, "Yeah, small storm, no problem." I wish I could take that one back. I reached Trail Crest at 2:00pm and after a snack, continued on to the summit. The winds were light from the northwest with a temp. of 20 deg. When I stopped to get my headlamp out at about 14,200 on the final summit slope, I could see the altostratus coming in from the northwest, and the winds were picking up - about 30mph. In full darkness, I reached the summit shelter, signed the register, and moved inside for the night. There was Richard's catalytic heater (I was planning to bring a spare propane canister, but forgot). I cooked dinner and before retiring to the sleeping bag, wedged a big plastic bag under the shelter door to keep snow from drifting in during the night. I peeked outside and saw that the horizontal snow had begun. The intensity startled me - this was no small storm. I crawled into the bag and fell asleep listening to the gale whip around the outer shelter walls. I awakened just before midnight to the horrible feeling of suffocation. I was gasping for breath, and I immediately heard and felt fluid gurgling in my lungs. My pulse rate was 140 and my respiratory rate was about 28. Oh no, High Altitude Pulmonary Edema. I have seen fellow team members with this condition on two occasions on high Alaskan mountains in my youth. I began to panic, but forcibly calmed myself down. I had to get to lower elevation, but how? The storm was in full rage outside, and it wouldn't be light for 6 hours or so. I knew that if I didn't descend at least 2,000 feet immediately, I could lapse into a coma and be lost within 24 hours. The only diuretic I had with me was regular tea, so I brewed up 2 strong pints and gulped it down. It was an amazingly complex task in my hypoxic state (I felt as if I was looking through eyeballs 3 feet infront of my face). I knew that I would then be risking general dehydration due to the effects of the tea, but I had to try something to keep the edema from getting worse until I could move down the mountain come daylight. I crawled back into the bag, and concentrated on deep breathing while watching snow crystals illuminated by my led lantern swirl around the shelter. I couldn't let myself go to sleep.

12/10/06:
As dim sunlight finally began to shine through the shelter door window, I got out of the bag to prepare for the descent. I was still gurgling, but was at least able to keep my balance while standing. I melted 2 liters of water from spindrift that had built to a height of 24 inches just inside the shelter door. It seemed to take forever to pack, dress for the storm, and strap on crampons. The temperature was 9 deg. inside the shelter, and the storm was in full force outside. I headed down the western slope of the mountain in visibility of about 100ft. which periodically opened to 1/4 mile or so. The snow had built to 3-4 ft. drifts in places forcing me to posthole often. It took me until about 10:00am to reach the 14,200ft. point on the trail just past Keeler Needle. The wind was gale force with blowing snow. I was so hypoxic that I didn't notice that my face mask slipped down for a few minutes - instant frostbite on my cheeks before I pulled the mask back up. When I reached the point that the trail narrows against the crest and there is a short climb up large blocks at about 14,000ft., I caught a front crampon point on the block and stumbled in my hypoxic state. I crashed my left kneecap down on the block and saw stars as I rolled over on my back and screamed. Finding that I could't stand, I crawled back down the trail about 50ft. to a wide spot to setup a bivouac. I got in the bag and bivy sack, and placed my pack to brunt at least some of the wind. I brought my only 2 liters of water in the bag to keep it from freezing, and a few snacks. I remained in the bag throughout that day and night. I concentrated on my deep breathing and staying awake. The storm stayed at full force.

12/11/06:
At daylight, the storm subsided to moderate winds and clearing. I was still gurgling, but the pulmonary edema seemed to be subsiding. I was amazed since I had only descended about 500ft., not the minimum 2,000ft. required for possible recovery. When the sun came out at about 10:00am and I could feel the warmth through the chink in my bag hood, I got up and tried to stand. I couldn't keep my balance, and my knee was throbbing. The wind was still too strong to allow me to start my stove, so I added a down jacket to my torso, got back into the bag, and stayed through the next day trying to recover as much as possible. It was too bad since the weather turned again that evening.

12/12/06:
I woke up from a terrible night, but at least the edema had subsided enough to allow me to feel safe dozing. The storm had returned at moderate intensity around dawn. I only had 1 liter of water left, and was very dehydrated. I tested my knee, and found that I could hold my balance and with pain, walk. By 8:00am, I was packed (a very slow process) and was ready to continue down to Trail Crest. The snow had drifted into the familiar burms and mini-cornices at the narrow places on the trail making the going very slow. I was having trouble breathing due to the residual edema, but kept moving in rest-step as needed. I had to use the axe to probe the trail in the places completely drifted over with snow as in crevasse detection (slots between rocks can be leg snappers). I finally reached Trail Crest at 12:00 noon. The storm had diminished, thankfully. I headed down the trail via the switchbacks (the direct slope was definitely out of the question because of heavy, unconsolidated snow). The trail was bad enough with drifted snow, but at least I could move steadily down, being careful to stay on the edge of the trail where the snow was less deep. The cable section was totally drifted over, so I hugged the stantions/cables and just postholed (1/2 hour of severe panting). As I bottomed out above Trail Camp, I traded axe for poles for the rest of the descent. I then saw a helicopter circling above the Mirror Lake area. The copter headed toward me and I signaled by waving my arms and poles (I was wearing a yellow parka so was easy to see). Near the solar toilets, I saw a two person rescue team walking toward me. They confirmed who I was and were gald to see me (they were heading up to the summit in search of me). I sure am glad that I leave detailed trip plans with my family (this was the first time in over 30 years that it actually came in useful). The storm was building again with gusty winds blowing snow down the valley from the crest, so after a quick assessment of my condition, we immediately headed down to Outpost Camp for a helicopter ride off the mountain. We had 1 hour to get down to the meadow or would have to stay out another night. The head rescue guy took my pack so that I could move faster (my knee was really slowing me), and we headed down. Another two person team met us shortly, and they took some of my gear also. We made it down to Outpost with 5 minutes to spare. The 4 rescue guys headed down to the Portal by trail, and I was flown down to Lone Pine in the CHP Copter. I was feeling fairly well, and so appreciated all the people that had risked their lives to help me in the face of such difficult storm conditions. The effort was organized by Sgt. Keith Hardcastle with search and rescue personnel from Bishop as far as I know. Upon landing in Lone Pine, I was debriefed and taken to my truck at the Portal (they had to return anyway to pickup the ground teams headed down to the Portal).

Aftermath:
As of 12/13/06, x-rays have confirmed that my lungs are clear of fluid, and my kneecap is not broken. I.V. fluids and rest have rehydrated me.

In the past I was able to stay on the summit overnight because I normally stage an intermediate camp at 12,000 feet prior to staying on the summit. In this case, I thought that recent sojourns on Mt. Agassiz and others would afford enough acclimatization - wrong too much time interval. Big mistake.

I underestimated the storm. Further reports did indicate that the storm was expected to dump 8-12 inches, meaning drifts of 3-4 ft.

A climbing partner would have been very beneficial to monitor me in my debilitated state with the edema. Due to severe hypoxia, I could have dropped into a coma, or could have done any number of things such as just laying down in the snow to sleep.

Regards to all. Be safe out there. I am blessed to have survived this. In a few hours I am heading out on a weekend cruise to Mexico with my family. Don't want to cancell - they have been through enough this week.

Doug F.

Doug,

Holy Moly! That is one a hellish adventure for sure. I’m glad you made it out OK. Be safe out there.

Cheers,
RG

Doug:
Thanks goodness for your safe descent from what sounds like an episode of "I shouldn't be alive!!". That's one hell of a Christmas present!
Be safe,
Laura
PS: Have fun in Mexico!

Amazing story! Congratulations on still being alive. Thanks for the excellent recounting of your experience and afterthoughts. This is the first time that I can recall anyone on this message board reporting pulmonary edema on Whitney. Aside from the suspected lack of acclimatization, were there any other suspected contributing causes? Did you have other symptoms of altitude sickness before the edema, like headache, nausea, etc.?

Great telling of a harrowing story. since you seem to have said it all, tt is hard to comment, beyond saying I'm glad you made it out alive and in rather good shape!

Hi Glad to see the report we saw the chopper flying into town, We talk alot about staying on the summit, your story makes it clear what can happen and then the ability for help to arrive.

Thank you for your story and all that it teaches us.

Please indulge what may be a dumb question (and possibly a diversion), but who pays for the rescue team?

Amazing and VERY SCARY story. 2 days inside a bivy sac with gale force winds at 14,000 feet with lungs full of fluid???? THAT is serious.

I just had a friend who got edema on Orizaba around 17000 feet. The physician told him the same thing: If he hadn't descended when he did, he could have gone into a coma... or worse.

Gusto

gregf I had the same question. I would think it's the same answer; based upon the ability to pay. I don't mind my taxes subsidizing a rescue such as this because it appears this hiker was prepared (ability, gear) but just was a victim of circumstance. From the report I gather he could have made it back on his own.

People don't ask who will pay when the Fire Department responds to put out a fire caused by carelessness or when a junkie has an overdose. Last January in Little Lake while southbound I saw a car northbound on the wide northwest curving stretch leave the highway and flip twice end over end landing eventually on its roof over 100 feet from where it initially went airbourne. The driver walked away and admitted she was tired and fell assleep. The rescue crew responded from the hamlet north of Olancha and transported her to hospital in Ridgecrest. How much did that cost?

I think Doug showed great humility in sharing his story with us as we will all learn from it. I also applaud Doug for having the equipment and ability pre-injury to perform a self rescue.

I am glad that my tax dollar supported rescue people helped Doug.

Was Doug on the edge of life? Yes, but most of us have.

Doug's story and that of others who have run into trouble will hopefully convince others who might not have the training to do something like this think again. Remember people who have hiked up to trailcrest with no warm clothing food or water in August to find a freak snowstorm blow in have cost the taxpayers much more.

SOGuy, I'm also glad that police, fire department, SAR, and many other folks are there to help us out at times, and have no problem paying taxes for that community service.

But that wise mountain sage Bill O'Reilly wants to know why he has to pay

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
From the The O'Reilly Factor... Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Back of Book Segment
Rescuers attempting to save Mt. Hood climbers
Guest: Mike Roberts, Outside magazine

Rescue teams are searching for three men who were attempting to scale Mt. Hood in Oregon. The Factor contended that winter climbing should be discouraged, perhaps even outlawed. "Why should I have to pay for somebody else's thrills when they are putting themselves and rescuers in danger? I don't think this is right. You don't go to Mount Hood in the winter, that's insane." But Outdoor magazine's Mike Roberts defended the climbers and winter climbs. "Winter mountaineering is a different kind of experience and it is an essential experience. Winter activities - snowshoeing, back country camping, back country skiing - are major driving forces in Western towns. I would argue that an experienced and trained mountaineer in winter is safe."
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Billy'O is such a great american. I'm glad Billy just encouraged me to be a winter outlaw, cool!

Some good lessons here, thanks for sharing your experience. It highlights a point debated on this board previously - acclimitization from previous climbs does not last very long. The rule of thumb is that you get benefit from prior acclimitization for about the same number of days that your were previously at altitude (on a declining basis). So 2 days at altitude gives about 2 days of declining acclimitization benefit. It also highlights that the weather on big mountains like Whitney can be very different from the general weather forecast for the area.

On the point of who pays for rescue - that is a hotly debated topic within park/forest services and other government organizations. In the discussions in which I have participated, there is general agreement that people who do have legitimate accidents shouldn't be charged, but people who get themselves into the rescue situation through their own poor decisions should be charged. However, there is not a good way to draw that line and therefore noone gets charged at this point. For example, last summer we told an obviously out of shape and inexperienced backpacker that he should not attempt a difficult hike/climb (in a national park). He went ahead and did it and required a helicopter rescue. There is no way that taxpayers should pay for his foolishness, but there isn't currently a policy in place that would allow him to be charged.

DougF,

Curious if your cell phone worked up there and whether could you communicate with family and let them know of your situation?

My Cingular cell has very poor signal coverage in the mountains. No signal on Whitney. Even on Mt Baldy where I can see radio towers on Sunset Pk and Mt Wilson, no signal; go figure?

Hope you get some quality R&R in Mexico.

Cheers,
RG

Here's an interesting read:

"Climbing Rescues in America: Reality Does Not Support High-Risk, High-Cost Perception".

http://www.americanalpineclub.org/pdfs/MRreal.pdf

It's geared more for climbing, but it compares with other activies--hiking, etc. in regards to cost, time,... It also delves into the issue of charging for rescues.

Glad to hear you recovered quick--Mexico will thaw you out!

Since it's received another mention... There's probably still an hour, or two, of fuel in the canister I carried up, so if you happen to have cold hands, or feet, when you get up to the summit, head on in and warm yourself up. Anybody who wants to use it for overnight warmth will need a new canister with them.

Glad things turned out OK. Years of experience probably kept you safe.

Around 7:00pm on 12/01, Rick received a call and was able to have a lengthy conversation inside the hut. Apparently, all the cabling on the hut amplifies the signal.

From personal experience, I'd have to disagree with this comment. I've found that if I spend several weekends going up to altitude, within a few weeks, acclimitization is no longer an issue. Of course, expecting one weekend to carry over to the next would be a little...

good point, you're talking about a different situation than I was discussing - multiple trips vs. a single one. The data I've seen refer to a single episode of acclimitization that only carries over for the amount of time that I mentioned. I can see why multiple trips to altitude would carry over longer, though they will obviously 'wear off' at some point as well. The time courses of the main effects of altitude, namely hemaglobin oxygen association/dissociation, red blood cell count and muscle oxygen transport, are all pretty well characterized and 2 of the 3 shift over a few days while red blood cell count shifts over a few weeks.

I asked the question concerning who pays for practical reasons, not to be provocative. I don't think people knowingly undertake deadly risk with their lives - their property, a different story ("moral hazard"). I was just wondering whether buying 'high altitude insurance' is justified.

EDIT: Gabbot, just read the PDF you posted - that answers all questions and more - thanks!

Doug didn't say, and I am wondering exactly how long before Whitney did he made these climbs.

Edit: Looked up <a href=http://www.whitneyportalstore.com/cgi-bin/ubb/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic;f=1;t=005363;p=1&r=npwm#000001>one of Doug's posts</a>. Looks like he climbed Agasiz three weeks before Whitney. There is no carryover for that length of time.

With my far more limited experience than others here, I believe that climbing to altitude the weekend immediately prior to a high-altitude trip seems to help.