TRAINING: Injured... Again

My best friends are in Ouray running as many laps as they can on farmed ice over President's Day Weekend. I am sitting on the couch watching Meru - again. They are going to head up to Silverton on a banner year where the snow is low and the ice is in epic condition and the approaches are super easy. I am going to do some finger walks up a wall trying to break down in tears as the pain in my shoulder screams with every step my finger takes higher on the wall.

The thought crosses my mind, Jimmy and Conrad never get injured... not fair.

My injuries never happen when I am doing rad stuff, they always when I am doing nothing, literally nothing at all. Then, all of a sudden, my attempts at becoming the next best alpinist are detailed and I am starting at Point Zero - again.

SUMMER OF TRAD

Winter in the Wasatch had melted away and I was eager to put my entire winter of training at the gym to work. This summer, I was going to increase my trad capabilities, I have mapped out a series of steps that are going to end with me climbing 5.11 trad by the end of the summer. Nevermind, that I have placed a piece of trad gear in 7 years. The last piece of trad protection that I had ever placed popped during the bounce test (yes, I was aid climbing) and ended after zippering 8 pieces below it, 4 pitches up on Angels Landing in Zion, I hot so hard that it pulled out 1 of the three pieces in the belay station and stopped 20 feet short of a Factor 2 fall. 

I have a new pack from Black Diamond, all the pros climb with this pack, I have seen it in pictures of it being used by hardmen at Indian Creek. This pack is going to make me a great climber.

Arriving at the base of the first climb that is going to fall victim to my newfound trad powers; powers that have been honed by climbing indoor on plastic with bolts every 4.5'. We've crossed a field of loose rocks and are in a low spot that is maybe 3 paces wide.

I am on outside corner looking up the arete, my buddy Dawes yells, 'ROCK!' I look up canyon and see a rock the size of a set of cabinet uppers storming my direction. I jump away form the outside corner to a nice protected corner. The Cabinet Upper From Hell hits bad corner and changes course almost 90 degrees. With nowhere to go, I turn my back to the Cabinet Upper, now heading my direction, and close my eyes.

Hundreds of pounds in a single rock impact me and the cliff face at the same time. My pack took the brunt of the force and saved me from worse injury but, my right arm and right torso still take a big hit. The momentum on the Cabinet Upper spins me around like a toy ballerina. When I stop the wind has been knocked out of me. I manage to weeze out the word, 'Help'.

Dawes jumps down and checks my neck, all good. Still no breathing.

Checks my eyes, all good. Still no breathing.

Finger walks my spine. First gasp of breath

Checks my bleeding arm, minor scratches. Ragged second breath.

Checks my torso and ribs. I scream and want to die.

The guys carry my gear out for me and drive me to my car. They take my gear and transfer it to my car for me, I can't hold anything more than keys and breathing is an agonizing exercise in pain managment. Trying to prove my strength, I assure them I am fine to drive home. I am certain this is not the last bad choice I will ever make but, it all ended well I made it home. X-Rays show that I have at least 9 breaks across 3 ribs, my right shoulder is wrecked, and my new pack has a hole in it. Due to the injury, I can't sleep on my right side, my normal side, and my sleep patterns are completely disrupted turning me into a diva at the gym.

That injury ruined that summers goal.

WINTER OF CODY

2017/18 ice season has been the leanest I have ever seen, the snow fall in the Wasatch is the lowest on record in over 60 years. Weekend outings to local ice are out of the question, we are foced to load up and road trip for every pitch of ice. We drove 5 and 1/2 hours to Dubois Wyoming. We sleep in the car and arrive at the parking lot at 9am.

At the onset things had a an odd feel about them.

We forgot water, no problem we bought gatorades. We only have one pair of climbing gloves and one pair of belay gloves but, four pairs of liners - we should be fine. There is one car in the parkig lot that is empty. There is another car in the lot with a group that is slowly racking out. Two of the six climbers hike so slow that we can't help but pass them.

We hike for 2 hours to a frozen lake where the trail forks. There are two routes that are in, after talking with the other group, they let us know that they are going to take the lesser of the two routes on account of them having noobs. We set off to the base of the harder route, a route that we know is well within our ability. Arriving at the base, we find the group that is responsible for the empty car at the base, they beat us here by about 90 minutes and are just topping out on P1.

We are joking at the base and finding activities to help the time go by while allowing the early team to proceed farther up the route a safe distance before we start out. They must have been sponsored by John Deere because they are dropping shit all over the place, just chopping away at the route.

Time to answer Nature's Call, I follow some boot prints down trail to go behind a tree. One step, fine. Second step, not good. As my companion retells it, "Dude, it was like a cartoon. Your feet slipped and went higher than your head. Your whole body followed your feet upward, for a moment, and then changed trajectory. Your shoulder was now leading. Your entire mass collapsed on top of that shoulder."

After landing I slid down the slope about 10 feet and crumpled into a boulder. Crawling up, I take a quick self-assesment. No blood, I am fine. I stand up... SHIT, I fall back down. My shoulder is on fire. It feels like the weight of my arm is tearing the muscles in my shoulder away from my body. I curl up and hold my arm. Breathing I tell my partner I can't lead but, we can still do this.

We rack up and go for it... My Partner is going out, I try and pay rope out through the belay device. Left arm is useless, the pain won't let me do anything with my arm or hands. As a result, I have my hand resting inside my half unzipped coat doing my best Napolian imitation. I am now belaying with one hand trying to mentally talk myself into climbing 4 pitches like this. 

Realization sets in for me about the same time as it does my partner. We retreat. My shoulder is bad, I can only put one shoulder strap on. My partner has all the gear with the exception of one of the half ropes, I try and carry that to do my part. He has the rack, the other rope, the screws...hell he even has my harness.

We make it back to the car and drive 5 and 1/2 hours home, stopping for pizza and gas. I have a torn rotator cuff, in a week, I go in to find out if I need surgery or if it will heal up on its own. 

CONCLUSION

The usual comments about getting old sucking are becoming trite. I just need to take the recovery in stride and realize that this is life, recovery is part of the training. The training leading up to today is going to allow my body to heal faster. I need to adapt my training to allow for the recovery. The mental exercise of adapting is as important as the physical exersion of training - perhaps even more important. I am going to embrace the change and come out of stronger.