The Bulge>

The Bulge is a runout 5.7 in Eldorado Springs. It was was the scene of my worst ever fall, almost 20 years ago.

That summer, I had managed to beat myself to a pulp up on Mt. Robson and completely gave up climbing for a couple of months. We finally got tired of just sitting around and decided to head for Eldo. I had done the Bulge before and found it pretty casual. Why we headed for this route in our sorry condition is beyond me - no doubt we were as wasted mentally as physically.

I started up and managed to get a couple of bogus nuts in about 20' up. Above this, there is a steep headwall. I dropped in another poor nut and committed. No techno-nuts back then, either! There were all hexes and stoppers. I charged up to a nice bucket at the top of the steep section, then looked back down to see my last nut sliding down the rope. Damn! I was 40' up with just one piece of pro, 20' down. Below, the talus was waiting to shred me.

I quickly found out I was too weak to pull the next move. I just couldn't reach anything above the jug. I tried to back down, but my arms were too tired to reverse the move.

This was a real climbers nightmare. It wasn't the sudden slip downward - it was a slow, agonizing battle with my arms to keep me on the wall. I felt absolutely helpless - I couldn't see any way out of my situation. I didn't need much strength to stay where I was, but I couldn't let go either. I spent an eternity looking at the options and realizing that I was totally screwed. I was able to alternately shake out each arm, watching them slowly get more and more pumped. I kept telling them "don't let me fall! don't let me fall!" but eventually they gave out. I don't remember actually letting go - my arms simply quit responding to my mental commands to keep gripping the bucket.

The fall was over in a flash. I remember hitting a small stance at the base of the headwall and then suddenly I was on the ground. The rope had pulled tight just a foot or two over the ground. It didn't brake me at all, but I was pulled into a butt-first sitting position. Miraculously, I landed flat on my ass on the only speck of dirt anywhere around. My belayer thought I was dead, but after I got my wind back I opened my eyes and took stock. Sore butt, wrist a little stiff but that was it.

We cleaned the remaining pro by walking 10' left and tugging on the rope. I could feel my wrist stiffening up so we spent the rest of the day toproping. Later I had my wrist X-rayed and there was a hairline crack. Still, 8 weeks in a cast was a small price to pay for what could easily have been a fatal fall.

I've never been back to the Bulge. I've also become a lot more cautious - I haven't taken any serious falls since this one.