"Because it's there."

Too bad the sign says, "You must break this many bones to be allowed on this ride."

A friend of mine got caught in a net that was being used for bringing gear in by copter. The copter pilot never noticed him hanging from the supposedly empty net until just before landing. My friend's hair turned white after that incident.
 
That's an E-ticket ride!
I was surprised there was no "attendant" hanging with her on the string. But, yeah, that would be a fun ride. I hope she had a camera with her. Not many get that view of the Tetons.
A friend of mine got caught in a net that was being used for bringing gear in by copter. The copter pilot never noticed him hanging from the supposedly empty net until just before landing. My friend's hair turned white after that incident.

Yikes, Jesusfuckingchrist. I don't blame that hair.
 
I was surprised there was no "attendant" hanging with her on the string. But, yeah, that would be a fun ride. I hope she had a camera with her. Not many get that view of the Tetons.
Honestly, that was incredible.

I can see how she would be, "Oh, just shut up!"
 
Climber known in Alaska dies in fall on Tibet mountain

From the ADN.com:

"Superb alpinist Joseph Puryear, author of a highly regarded climbing guide on the Alaska Range, died Tuesday in a remote section of Tibet ascending the 24,000-foot mountain Labuche Kang.

According to web accounts, Puryear broke through an overhanging cornice and plunged 1,500 feet to his death.

Climbing partner David Gottlieb wasn't beside Puryear at the time of the fall. But after locating Puryear's footprints, Gottlieb descended, found the body and called for help on a satellite phone.

Puryear published "Alaska Climbing" in 2006, the culmination of more than a decade of climbing the central Alaska Range. Two years earlier, he married long-time Talkeetna resident Michelle O'Neil on Pika Glacier near Mount McKinley. O'Neil worked as a resource technician at McKinley's Kahiltna basecamp in 2001.

The couple lived in Leavenworth, Wash., but maintained a cabin in Talkeetna, visiting often.

"None of us are invincible, but this one came as an extraordinary shock," said Joe Reichert, a mountaineering ranger at Denali National Park and a contributor to the "Alaska Climbing" book. "He was a real dedicated climber who never wanted to leave a task half done. He'd always go above and beyond what was required."

Still shaken by news of his friend's death, Reichert was reaching for words to express his grief.

"It's always hard for non-climbers to understand why we climb, and with every one of these tragic accidents we wonder all the more."

A former climbing ranger on Mount Rainier, Puryear wrote extensively on climbing and with Gottlieb earned several prestigious climbing awards grants to help fund climbs in Nepal and Tibet. Among them was this year's Mugs Stump Award, named after the famed Mount McKinley guide who plunged to his death after falling into a crevasse on that mountain.

The award was for the duo's climb of Karjiang, a 23,690-foot Tibetan pyramid that was among the highest unclimbed summits in the world. Judges lauded the climbers for "employing the strictest leave-no-trace ethics."

In his chapter on safety and survival in "Alaska Climbing," Reichert wrote: "Joe Puryear has climbed almost every route in this book. His fantastic memory, along with thorough research, has contributed to an identification of routes that offer classic lines to a wide spectrum of climbers."

Gottlieb and Puryear had been exploring new routes on Labuche Kang. The massif has only been climbed once -- in 1987 by a Tibetan Japanese expedition.

An Oct. 1 entry in the expedition's online blog conveyed the beauty of their surroundings:

"Four days of spectacular weather allowed for a massive exploratory mission, which offered views of a few great route options. Crossing massive glaciers, high rugged mountain passes and sweeping untouched alpine cirques, David and Joe explored vast tracks of terrain unlike any they have seen before.

"The character of the glaciers, the remoteness of the range and the pristine nature of the landscape have left them more than a little impressed. Both are feeling strong and healthy, they plan to acclimatize for a few more days before moving up."

The duo had already made first ascents of five Tibetan peaks -- the 16,470-foot Angry Wife, 17,929-foot Daugou, 18,700-foot Lara Shan, 19,570-foot Peak 5965 and 22,096-foot Kang Nachugo.

Puryear joined the Rainier climbing ranger staff in 1996 and spent four seasons at the park.

"For two years, Joe led the climbing rangers on the east side of Mount Rainier and participated in many difficult rescues," Mike Gauthier, the former supervisory climbing ranger at the park, wrote in an e-mail to the Tacoma News Tribune. "He was greatly respected for his climbing skills and ability to manage complex situations both on the mountain and in the front country." "
 
currently watching the History Channel documentary on the 1972 Andes plane crash....

And the old footage of the avalanche from Disney was shown......

People don't realize that the photographer of that footage was taken out by the avalanche.....
 
currently watching the History Channel documentary on the 1972 Andes plane crash....

And the old footage of the avalanche from Disney was shown......

People don't realize that the photographer of that footage was taken out by the avalanche.....

What's the story behind the footage recovery?
 
Well, the charge was set off to make a small avalanche for filming, and it was a bit oo big.....

There that is more like it. Sorry I was sucked into a long drama thread reading. What does Disney have to do with it?
 
What footage is this? I'm not familiar.

It's looking up a pristine bowl and the slide starts. It picks up speed and takes out the camera. I remember first seeing it when I was in college. I'll see if I can find it.
 
From this morning's ADN.com:

50 years of mountain search and rescue in Alaska
A NECESSITY: "On any given day, someone will go missing."

"After five years of volunteering with the Alaska Mountain Rescue Group, Girdwood ski patroller Andy Dietrick knows the drill.

A call for help arrives -- via e-mail, pager or text message. It could be 3 a.m. just as easily as mid-afternoon.

"The call can come anytime, 24/7," Dietrick said.

The expectation? Swing into action immediately because minutes could spell the difference between life and death. In his truck sits a pack with warm clothes, backcountry tools and rescue gear.

An avalanche may have buried backcountry travelers. A plane may be down in remote terrain. Hikers could be hopelessly lost in the mountains.

"On any given day in Alaska," says the 2010 Alaska State Troopers Search and Rescue Overview, "someone will go missing. Whether it is an overdue hiker unfamiliar with the terrain or a first-time visitor to Alaska unprepared for capricious weather, emergency personnel in Alaska are on constant alert."

Last year, troopers launched 331 search-and-rescue missions for 805 people. Some 609 state trooper searchers were joined by 4,176 volunteers, who put in 93 percent of the total search time.

"Without ... the very essential resource of organized volunteer search associations," the overview says, "this task would be daunting if not impossible."

FIVE DECADES

The Alaska Mountain Rescue Group is one of those volunteer organizations, and Dietrick is among some 40 volunteers able to respond to requests by Alaska State Troopers when backcountry skill and moxie is required.

Alaska Mountain Rescue Group volunteers have been doing it for decades -- five to be precise. They were offering backcountry assistance in the Alaska Range a year before the National Park Service began coordinating Mount McKinley rescues. They were doing it before Chugach State Park existed and before the Alaska Search and Rescue Association, the Anchorage Nordic Ski Patrol or Alaska Search and Rescue Dogs were organized.

On Saturday, current and past members of the group gathered at the Kincaid Chalet to toast 50 years of service and tell stories -- lots of stories.

Sadly, many of those stories end tragically.

In fact, not until 24-year-old skier Ian Wilson was pulled from beneath four feet of snowy debris on Sunburst Mountain in Turnagain Pass two years ago has a search-and-rescue operation involving the Alaska Mountain Rescue Group pulled out an avalanche survivor.

And that was a bit of a fluke.

'A BIG ONE'

Trained rescuers were nearby -- some working to recover victims of an older slide on the other side of the pass -- when the Sunburst avalanche let loose. Both Wilson and some of the rescuers carried avalanche beacons.

Chief among them was Matt Murphy, an avalanche forecaster with the Chugach National Forest Avalanche Information Center who's now a technical advisor to the Alaska Mountain Rescue Group. He was out skiing with his wife and a friend, Kris Dudley. When snow rumbled down Sunburst Mountain that February day, the trio was about a quarter-mile away.

The rumble of snow cascading down the mountain was the sound of a Class 4 (the biggest is Class 5) avalanche.

"Kris yelled my name out," Murphy said. "I could see a dust cloud of snow down in the valley. It was a big one."

On skis equipped with skins to provide grip, Murphy's group started uphill on the debris pile. Already, other skiers nearby were frantically searching, but their efforts were somewhat disorganized.

"All my training from being a professional ski patroller kicked in," said Murphy, who's been a member of the Alyeska Ski Patrol since 2002. "We practice a lot every year, so I could just flip a switch in my brain and stay collected, because I knew what we had to do."

Dig; dig fast. Murphy, the victim's friends and other skiers there to help tore into the spot the beacon pinpointed.

"It was a strange set of circumstances," said Murphy, whose efforts directing the rescue earned him the U.S. Department of Agriculture Secretary's Honor Award for Heroism. "A lot of things aligned to help Ian out -- a fast search, good effective probing and strategic shoveling."

TICK, TOCK

Even so, the clock kept ticking. Each passing moment meant Wilson's odds of surviving worsened. Historically, the chances of surviving burial in an avalanche slip to 85 percent within 15 minutes, to 50 percent after 30 minutes to 20 percent within one hour to near zero after two hours.

"When we were shoveling down to him, he was laying face down," Murphy said, who feared the worst. "We had to pull on his backpack to expose his airway. Drool was coming out of his mouth and his skin was blue. He was unresponsive.

"Thank God his airway wasn't clogged, but he was still sandwiched in there."

Finally, Wilson sputtered. Recovery came miraculously fast. Within five minutes, he was answering questions.

"Do you know where you are?" asked Murphy, a trained emergency medical technician.

"Avalanche," came the answer.

"That was good enough for me."

As it turned out, Wilson suffered only minor injuries. He'd been buried 25 minutes, Murphy estimates.

"It was really Matt Murphy taking control of the situation that saved his life," said Bill Romberg, chairman of the Alaska Mountain Rescue Group.

"That was super lucky," noted Dietrick. "We're normally not there at a moment's notice."

Nor always with such a talented, cool-headed specialist.

"It was such a big avalanche and there were so many other skiers in the area, it was very chaotic and uncertain how many were buried," said Romberg, who was among the group working to recover the victim of an avalanche on the other side of Turnagain Pass that jumped in a helicopter to help once word of the Sunburst avalanche arrived.

THANKS

More often, members of the Alaska Mountain Rescue Group perform the difficut but important work of recovering the bodies of backcountry adventurers who don't return alive.

"It's true," Deitrick said, "a lot of them are body recovery. But every experience I've had, it was hugely important to the family. The two fellows (recently) killed in (an avalanche at) Grandview. The support from family and friends was unreal."

That and the thanks of peers may be all the reward any volunteer needs.

"The Alaska Mountain Rescue Group is the single most valuable resource we have up here, along with the Alaska Search and Rescue Dogs," state park ranger Kymberly Miller said in 2006, pointing to several recreationalists in Hatcher Pass who owe their life to the group. " They're all expert skiers, climbers, mountaineers."
 
ornsay_light_house_after_glow.jpg
 
Odd as it may sound , I started clmbing some forty + years ago ( in Wales) . I am now arthritic as hell , and would be a liability on any expedition. At the head of the thread you said you had been climbing for 10 years. The frightening thing is I have climbed ranges from Snowdonia and the Grampians , used the Brecons as a 'mild' cross country run, 'played' on most ranges in Europe, and climbed repeatedly in the Himal , yet you know far more about the technical side to climbing than I ever did or ever wiill

Sadly, I was , very much , a 'make a fist and if it fits carry on' type.
I may have to use Mallory as my excuse.
 
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