JULY/AUGUST 2019
BACKPACKER.COM 109
You ignore storm signs. Southern
winds. Plunging barometric pressure
(buy that altimeter watch). Descend
to safety. Now.
You stow a full hydration bladder in
your pack and throw it in the trunk.
You’ll risk a rupture and fl ood. Also,
leave a jug of water in your car for
when you return.
You separate your group. It isn’t a
party—or safe for that matter—if
you’re not together.
You overestimate your pace. Plan to
average 2 mph max, plus 30 minutes
for every 1,000 feet of elevation gain.
You don’t know the
ABCs of fi rst-aid.
When disaster strikes, rely
on this simple plan to kick-
start the lifesaving process
and assess injuries.
Aa
Airway
Check for blockages in the
throat, and, absent cause for a
cranial-spinal injury, adjust the
head so it’s in a normal resting
position.
Bb
Breathing
Is the victim drawing breath?
Put your hand under the victim’s
nose to feel for heat. Or stick a
mirror or knife blade under there
to check for vapor.
Cc
Circulation
Check for a pulse in the neck
and in injured limbs above and
below the wound. Sign up for our
fi rst-aid class: backpacker.com/
wildernessfi rstaid.
You’re crossing
that stream wrong.
- Water check: If the
stream is rushing (or,
honestly, moving faster
than you can walk) and
water level is above your
knees, fi nd a safer place to
cross or change your route. - Pack check: Whether
it’s calm, deep water or a
shallow-but-swift river,
unbuckle your hipbelt and
sternum strap so you can
quickly ditch the pack
if you lose your footing
(otherwise it’ll pull you
u nder). - Footwear check: Keeping
your boots dry is fi ne, but
don’t go barefoot. Cross
in your camp shoes, or
pull out your boot insoles,
strap them to your feet
with duct tape, or roll your
socks over them. - Buddy check: The
stronger the fl ow, the more
important it is to link up as
a team. Two hikers should
hook elbows. Three should
make a triangle. Groups
should form a conga line.
The strongest goes fi rst.
MY BAD
I Trusted My
Partner’s Memory.
ABOVE TREELINE IN one of those snow-and-rock
scenes where the TV shows play the ominous music
is no place to lose your head. Pakistan’s Nanga Parbat
is not nicknamed ”Killer Mountain” ironically. But
we’d done our homework—or so we thought.
One member of our team had climbed Nanga
Parbat seven years before, and he remembered
fixed ropes that would aid our downclimb. You
can forgive us for thinking, after we summited vic-
torious, that maybe the hardest part was over.
Except, a lot had changed on the summit since my
team member was last there. Those fixed ropes?
Nowhere to be seen. So there we were, not 100
percent certain it was even possible to climb down
this particular ridge. I couldn’t help but wonder how
we’d gotten this high without being sure how we’d
get back.
Time to panic, right?
Five miles high in the literal Death Zone is not a
great time to obsess over mistakes or launch into
finger-pointing recriminations. Yes, we had our little
freak-out moment, but then were able to shift our
attention to saving ourselves. We stopped and took
10 breaths—two seconds in, two seconds out—to
switch out of flight-fight mode and allow the brain’s
executive function to reboot and take over. Then
we slowly made our way back to safety, one pitch—
sometimes one move—at a time.
Things go wrong in the mountains. Weather
changes. Falls happen. Rocks slide. But one thing
that should never go wrong is your pre-trip research.
There is no way to be too cautious with the informa-
tion your life will depend on. Our failure to confirm
that the fixed ropes were still in place nearly killed
us. And if, despite your best efforts, you are still sur-
prised, now you know how to stop the panic and stay
in control. –Doug Chabot
PHOTO BY LOUISA ALBANESE
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