Scariest moments/mistakes when climbing not resulting in injury

My first time doing a double rope rappel was on a cold snowy day, and we finished on top of a flat topped spire with bolts at foot level. My feet were completely frozen, and I wanted to get down asap. My more experienced partner wasn't as cold as I was, so he joined the ropes with an EDK and handed them to me to go down first. I set up my ATC, double check everything, unclip my backup from the anchor and just as I'm about to go over the edge he grabs me and violently hauls me back. In my rush to get down I'd set up my ATC on the extra long tails that were hanging over the edge, and I'd just assumed he'd handed me the correct pair. 

So many lessons learned, among which are

1. One or two feet of tail in the EDK is sufficient, too much can be dangerous.
2. Partner checks work.
3. Rushing isn't worth it if you have to do it twice. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast.
4. When belaying in the cold, oversized socks worn over your climbing shoes are a lifesaver.
5. When dealing with an inexperienced partner, don't give them the literal short ends of the rope.

after leading the 3rd or 4th pitch of an easy multipitch, i build a classic 3 piece anchor with a masterpoint, clipped my gri gri to it and started belaying up my 2nd. I was in 3rd class terrain having come up what was probably a 5.5 or 5.6 pitch, which eased into 3rd class. i'm just sitting comfortably on the ground a few feet in front belaying as normal. at some point i feel my partner weight the rope and BAM! I get hit in the back with a microwave sized block and all my anchor equipment. The rock that i built my anchor in completely failed...and i was left literally holding my partner on my harness with my legs jammed up against 2 rocks (like i was playing tug of war). how the impact of the rock didn't knock me down, i have no idea....

alway always ALWAYS make sure the rock you're building an anchor in is solid. still scares me to this day...

I don't have nearly the crazy stories of others here, but I'll add one of mine

Climbing a multipitch at Coethedral near Mt Hood with two parties of two. The rock is some kind of conglomerate that I have since learned falls apart when it is damp. We had a few footholds pop per pitch but since it has a reputation for being chossy we kept climbing. My partner is leading the second pitch, with the leader from the other party halfway up the first pitch when my partner pulls off a microwave-sized block from his head-level. I think it bounced off his leg and then flew past me and the climber below me and we're all yelling watching it head toward the belayer on the ground as if he's got a target on his helmet. At the last second he jumped aside and it nailed the rope tarp he had been standing on.

• Climbing with a random partner on the grand wall, come up on follow, see he put himself in straight on a girth hitch instead of a clove (the fumble we all make when first learning to clove twisting the bytes wrong). I tell him ygd, and he says "I'm always learning." 
• Not refixing a tr solo. I was king swinging between anchors from the access anchor dragging my rope across the rock. Later come up there after climbing to flake the rope, and I see my core completely exposed. 
• tldr: I go off route on the second to last fully bolted traverse pitch of sunset strip, rip out a block, take a fat whip, and the block almost hits someone. Story: After reading a really involved description giving beta on the pitch, something like "trend right into steepening terrain on underlings." Without looking at the topo (since I felt it was gonna be a chill "follow the yellow brick road"), I thought it meant the standard trend right and then go up type description. Which is what I did. And it matched the beta perfectly, until I peak over the lip of the overhang and see no more bolts, look down and I'm 20 feet above my bolt. Realizing my folly, I start downclimbing. I layback this head sized block that I trusted on my way up to go back down. Either the first time I grabbed it weakened it, or the nature of down climbing makes us less delicate, but suddenly the world gets weird and I'm leaning out. My partner tells me I screamed rock as I was arcing through the sky, but I don't remember. Proceeded to whip maybe 30 feet and crash with my hip into the wall. Just after I crash land I see the block racing down to a guy leading a crack pitch just below me and he ducks out of the way just as the block explodes where his head was. Once we all summited I offered him my bars and apple with apologies, but he forgave me and instead shared some of his orange slices with me. Later reflection made me think about just how catered the routes we climb are. You go off route, and it's a different world. The rock could have easily cut my rope, or hit the climber, or hit their rope. Read the topo, and climbing below another party is a legitimate hazard.

Going off route in Tuolumne and winding up on 5.10 terrain 120 feet off the deck no pro. 10 years ago and I still get uncomfortable thinking about it. Almost quit climbing that day lol

Anybody have further anecdotes? I’m anti-dirtbagging it at the moment and can’t climb until job ends. 

My expirence was climbing at a single pitch crag. I was with a few friends and nearing the top of the route on lead. As I was a few moves below the anchor I heard one of my friends on a neighboring route who was at the top of their climb and cleaning it say "off belay". I then heard my belayer say "ok off belay". My sphincter ate my underwear and I yelled down to put me back on belay. After some yelling back and forth I was on back on belay and learned that you always use names in commands.

One from last year:

- I got bit by a bat while climbing at an obscure NM sport crag. I'd had a climbing partner in Boston that was a rabies researcher at MIT and would constantly regale me with the horrors of rabies (painful 100% fatality rate w/o a vaccine) so I had a lot of simmering stress hoping the vaccines did their job.

A week after that incident I was climbing some spicy bolted routes (3-5 bolts per 40m pitch) and was still in a bit of a funk. My partner led the first route of the day and asked me if I'd rather lead or TR it. I flipped a coin since I couldn't motivate myself and landed on TR. About 45' up (~25' above the first bolt), I go to mantle over a bulge and break a foothold and pop off. If the coin had landed on its other side I'd be seriously injured or dead for sure - the route starts by stepping off a big boulder above a chimney of talus and I would've pinballed down the chimney. Obviously I was perfectly safe on TR but it really made me reassess the runout climbing I'd been doing all year. I hadn't TR'ed a pitch in years, and yet the one time I did I was saved a potentially life-ending fall.

And my only actual 'that could've ended badly' mistake:

- About 8 years ago, while in grad school, I decided I really wanted to climb at the Gunks on my birthday but my usual partners were busy so I turned to the university climbing club and managed to scrounge up a few replies. On the drive up it became obvious they'd oversold their experience so I was tasked with putting up some easy routes for everyone to TR. Only one had ever lead belayed, never outdoors, but at least I had someone to hold the rope. I led the first pitch and everyone had fun running up on TR. So far so good. 

However, right as we went to move on to another climb freezing rain began to fall, and when we went to pull the rope it got seriously stuck in a crack. Shit. Thankfully, I figured, since we had a second rope I could just re-lead quickly and un-stick the rope before the rock got too icy. Thankfully the pitch was easy but it was still unnerving (not to mention frigid) leading in the freezing rain. I freed the other rope, got to the anchors, and began to lower. 

Suddenly, as I'm cleaning my gear, about 20' up, I go into a freefall and slam into the ground, rolling into the 'gym bouldering fall' maneuver. In the commotion I'd forgotten that this second rope was 10m shorter than the first, and the rest of the crew, with their grand total of 0 outdoor experience, didn't think to second guess me (or notice as it slipped through their hands and belay device). Thankfully I landed almost perfectly - I landed flat on my feet and rolled my back onto the flat surface of a boulder, narrowly missing the other jagged boulders strewn around the base. I only ended up with a lightly bruised tailbone. To add insult to (near) injury, in my sorry state I had to re-climb the first 20' to grab the cam I hadn't cleaned yet, and the second rope _also_ got stuck in the same crack. We left the rope (it was now thoroughly pouring and I was in no state to reclimb the pitch yet again) and a good samaritan from this site returned it to me a week later.

Worst birthday ever. Knot your rope ends and check your pitch lengths.

leading ice pitch full rope-length out, my last screw was probably 50 feet below and traversed on half ropes.  One final headwall section to punch through. As I was well balanced underneath this little curtain of hanging daggers, was expecting to get my sticks and then feet stemmed out, I couldn't get any purchase on my left foot. What the hell. Almost fully extended body position, I looked closer at my left foot seeing a dangling scrap of metal hanging off the boot. My toe bail snapped off at the worst possible time. There was no retreat possible and couldn't communicate with belayer sheltered below, to let him know what was about to happen. Falling just isn't an option. No choice but to focus on the sticks and oppose off the good foot. Charged it.  then another 30 feet low angle. I placed my last screw to protect the pitch exit; which was mentor-driven, always keep your last screw and protect the exit. Hug a tree. Anchored and showed my buddy what the hell almost happened. He's was like, dude why the hell, you had that so runout..and then oh shit yeah, that woulda been huge air on that cruxy section. solid man.  

Another one in the alpine, I hit my buddy in the chest hard enough to knock him a few feet back. What the hell. Half second later a bowling ball sailed right between us. woulda taken his head off for sure.

What almost killed me. A fucking goat knocked a block off on me from about a few hundred feet above while walking around the base at Ouray. Missed me by about a half inch, felt the wind on my ear. Still looking for that little fucker

Lee's story of choking on a sandwhich is the best one I ever heard.  Semi-Rad may have a write up somewhere.

Honestly, this should be required reading for all climbers.  

I think we could publish something like "near-misses in North America."

I don't know whether to laugh, cry, or run away.  

Climb on!

Bruno, that's funny because I literally read this last night:

https://www.climber.co.uk/news/mountaineering-scotland-bmc-promote-mountain-safety-with-near-miss-reporting/

Here's a mistake that has killed climbers on "safe" sport climbs.

The route in question was "Shithooks," on Low Profile Dome, Tuolumne Meadows. My partner, an experienced climber, shall remain nameless to protect the not so innocent. It came down like this:

I led the route in one long pitch using double 8.5mm ropes. At the top I joined the ropes with an EDK and rappelled from the bolted anchor. My partner TR'd, with me belaying from the base, passing the knot when it got to me. While he was climbing a female Park Ranger and a trainee walked up and watched. She was especially interested in the knot passing business, and watched carefully. When my partner got  to the anchor at the top he yelled down "OFF BELAY!!" I took him off, dropped the ropes, turned around and got into a chat with the Ranger and her charge. Then I heard my partner yell "TAKE!!" and rope started running up the wall out of the pile on the ground. I dove into the pile of rope and wrapped the running cord around my body. Fortunately the top of the route is lower angle, so he wasn't in free fall yet, and I was able to catch him.

When he called down "OFF BELAY" that meant, to me, that my job was done and he was going to do the obvious thing: rappel. Why he decided to lower instead, especially on the skinny cords was/is beyond me. 

If you plan to lower, never say off belay. It's really best to say nothing. Just clip in, make the necessary arrangements depending on the set up, and yell "TAKE" when the time comes.  Also, it's really a good idea to talk about how you intend to descend before you go up.

Bruno Schull wrote:

Honestly, this should be required reading for all climbers.  

I think we could publish something like "near-misses in North America."

I don't know whether to laugh, cry, or run away.  

Climb on!

That’s a great idea. 

Thank God this didn't happen to me, but climbing at Pilot Mountain NC one day, a guy was teaching his friend to lead belay while flailing up a 5.10. My partner and I were suspect of this group, as the only one who seemed like they knew even a little bit what they were doing was the guy taking at every bolt and reminding his belayer to hold the break side under the grigri, but by the time I realized how bad the situation was, my partner had started climbing. The climber gets to the top, yells "okay I'm at the top", and sets up a TR on a sling. When he yells "take" to lower off, I hear "Hold on, let me put you back on belay". My friend and I promptly got the fuck out of there. 

This is my most recent f*ck up and probably one of my worst. I noticed there was a rope hanging on a route on a prominent feature at Smith that I really want to climb at some point. So I was stoked about the possibility of some TRS. I posted in a local Facebook group asking whose rope it was to attempt to verify its quality. A friend texted me that it was a reputable local’s/one of his friends, and it should be good to go. 

So I get out there, rope isn’t quite as neat and tidy as one might expect, but I bounce test the shit out of it while still tethered on the lower anchor (route starts on an arete with some ridiculous exposure). All seems fine. Do a couple laps, amazing route but definitely going to take some work for a future send.

Well the reputable local just last week posted that rope is in fact not his, is not fixed, and is in fact a stuck, abandoned rope as stated by its owner on this site. So turns out I was TRS’ing on a rope that was only secured by its stopper knot jammed in the chains… 

Pretty terrifying and good learning! 

Climbing Weasel wrote:

Ever look down and only see one hard point threaded during a free hanging rappel? Touch a two ton block that wobbles in the breeze? Etc. I’m curious to hear about other people’s “oh shit” moments they’ve had.

Nearly exactly this. My climber took two whips on a single hardpoint before realizing. I consider myself just as much at fault, and don't do "casual" buddy checks anymore. It doesn't have to be by the book formal, but I always make sure I know saw a good knot and that my climber knows I saw it. 

Caleb BR wrote:

Thank God this didn't happen to me, but climbing at Pilot Mountain NC one day, a guy was teaching his friend to lead belay while flailing up a 5.10. My partner and I were suspect of this group, as the only one who seemed like they knew even a little bit what they were doing was the guy taking at every bolt and reminding his belayer to hold the break side under the grigri, but by the time I realized how bad the situation was, my partner had started climbing. The climber gets to the top, yells "okay I'm at the top", and sets up a TR on a sling. When he yells "take" to lower off, I hear "Hold on, let me put you back on belay". My friend and I promptly got the fuck out of there. 

It was Hot Yoga, wasn't it?

Early in my climbing career, I was at the small climbing gym where I went to school.  I was having trouble on an auto belay route.  I took some time to really focus on what I had to do to send and then set forth.  About half way up there is a big ledge, and after that ledge is the crux that I kept falling off of.  I’m standing on the ledge shaking out when I hear my friend tell me, “TJ, don’t move!”.  I immediately realized I had forgot to clip in to the autobelay.  The gym employees rescued me and all was well.  Two weeks later, someone feel from the top after forgetting to clip in.  

Ever since then, I’ve been adamant about knot checks before leaving the ground. Stay vigilant folks. 

I keep reading this tread and must admit to the truth. If you climb a lot and or a long time, especially mutli pitch and alpine, you will either die, or come damn close to it many times. This is my second posting in this thread about near death.

Some time way back, my buddy Don and I decided we were ready for a real alpine outing, so we chose Liberty Ridge on the northern side of Mount Rainer. 

After a protracted approach, we arrived at the Thumb camp at about 10,200 Feet. As good alpine climbers we got up super early and started our climb, reaching the end of the technical route, the Liberty Cap about noon. Knowing we had a hump ahead of us to get to the decent camp, we used the last of our fuel to melt snow to fill our water bottles, and ate the last of our food.

As we packed up, a thick whiteout engulfed us, as we ²did our best to dead recon accross the saddle unropped toward the Crater, where we would started our decent down the glacier. Suddenly, we found ourselves in steeper terrain than we should be in. As this realization hit us,  I slipped on the glazed snow and begain picking up speed. I recall that I was not alarmed at first, as I was confident in my ability to self-arrest. Then panic ran through my body as I sensed I was sliding into even steeper terrain and started seeing rocks out of the corner of my eye, only to sumise that I was about to launch over the Willis Wall. As I barried my axe even deeper into the icy slope, I came to a stop with a lump in my throat and the back of my pants. 

After that humbling scare, I climbed back up to my Don, who watched it all with amusment and far less alarm. We then decided we should call the Rangers and check on the weather forcast before we go any further. The Rangers ensured us that it was an annomilly and that we would should sit tight and let is pass, as it would be next  to impossible to find the Corridor through the decending glacier to make our escape from the summit.

An hour or so passed and there was no change in the weather or visibility. It was with our second call to the Rangers that our adventure really starts. The Rangers now said there had been a change in the forcast and a heavy wind and weather event was about to hit and that we should make a sheltered camp if possible.

We climbed back up the Liberty Cap and set up our tent in a natural hole in the Liberty Ridge side of the Cap, and settled in for what would be a 3 day storm.

With no water, we began melting snow by peeing into our empty aluminum fule bottles and putting them in plastic bags of snow, to allow the conducted heat to melt the snow. We kept pouring the water and slush into out empty water bottles to capture a liter or so of water each day.

With winds over 100 mph, we could hear it rushing accross the saddle with the sound of an approaching train, before it hit the natural wind break that was the Liberty Cap. At first and instinctively, we would each grab the web of tiny aluminum tent poles supporting the tent fabric and hold them to stablize the tent as it shook with fury.

Becuase we were sitting in a natural depression in the side of the Liberty Cap, spindrift and snow would fill the hole, and in time would crush the walls of the tent inward. Eventurally, one of us would grab our frozen pants standing in the corner, slide them on along with frozen boots, and craw out into the maelstrom to dig out. This chore and melting snow for water became our highest priority in life. All other things paled, and moved way down the priority list, includeing food. 

Once or twice a day we would call down to the Rangers and let them know we were alive and well, and to see what the forcast was.  But over time, my phone battery died and we had no outside contact as the storm raged on.

Then on the 3rd morning, we could hear the wind had slowed and noted that the glow through the ripstop fabric of the tent was brighter than normal. I hurriedly unzipped the door and poked my head out to see blue sky and broken clouds. Excitedly, we slid into on our frozen kit and started to pack up camp in order to make an escape before the storm returned. 

Suddenly we hurd the unmistakable sound of a helicopter. Not any helicopter, but a giant 2 rotor beast with an airman leaning out the backdoor pointing down to the Saddle between the Crater and the Liberty Cap. They had dropped a handful of climbing Rangers down there and becuase they had not herd from us that night as the storm reached its peak, they had packed for a body extraction. Our bodies!

Wasting no time, we grabbed what we could, and made it down to the saddle where the Rangers greeted us with small bites of food and water as we all waited for the chopper to return. In a cloud a rotor wash, we made our way onto the chopper and were flown to an Army hospital for a check up.

There is so much more to this story, but the most important part to leave you with is this.  You get stronger and smarter with every escape, and with every experiance. But never think your days are not numbered when it comes to climbing, especially with alpine climbing. Risk is a numbers game and it is slowly catching up with us all.

Safe Climbing

TJ Bindseil wrote:

Early in my climbing career, I was at the small climbing gym where I went to school.  I was having trouble on an auto belay route.  I took some time to really focus on what I had to do to send and then set forth.  About half way up there is a big ledge, and after that ledge is the crux that I kept falling off of.  I’m standing on the ledge shaking out when I hear my friend tell me, “TJ, don’t move!”.  I immediately realized I had forgot to clip in to the autobelay.  The gym employees rescued me and all was well.  Two weeks later, someone feel from the top after forgetting to clip in.  

Ever since then, I’ve been adamant about knot checks before leaving the ground. Stay vigilant folks. 

This reminds me of the time, very early in starting to gym lead, that I got so hyper focused on one of my first overhanging "cave" climbs that I just totally forgot to clip any of the first three draws and my belayer somehow thought I was running it out on purpose... It was only at the 4th one that they said, "hey, aren't you going to clip?"