Some days don’t go as planned. Wednesday was one of those days.
Wednesday was a mixed climbing day, the kind of day where it isn’t uncommon to find one hand on rock, the other holding an ice tool. It’s usually steep and always fun. Unless, of course, the day doesn’t go as planned.
It was the first climb of the day, an overhanging route called Unemployment Line that works its way out a rock wall to a dagger of ice hanging from the lip. The icicle loomed large overhead as I laced up my boots. Once I left the ground there would be no rest until I was standing on top of it.
I felt good for the first few moves, flowing upward to where the roof pitched back. I stopped just before the transition, took a breath, and launched into the climbing. Move after move flowed underneath me. Hook a tool. Kick feet to the side. Rock up, and place the other tool. I clipped the rope into gear as I went up, doing my best to keep moving, breathing, trying to stay relaxed as the ground sank beneath me.
Suddenly I was off, tools still in hand but falling through the air. The rope came tight, and I swung in a long pendulum back toward the cliff. WHACK!! My knee hit the wall. Through three layers of synthetics I felt it explode in pain, then go numb and swell.
“Lower me!”
I shouted to my belayer, holding my leg. “I’m done!”
The rope trembled as I sank to the ground. Luckily, when I got to the bottom, I was able to wrap myself in my Recovery-On-The-Go wrap. Preparation before the climb is key, but somedays just don’t go as planned. Wednesday was one of those days.