A fall from grace
I planed a four-day weekend a few months back. The idea was to go for an 18 mile hike into the surrounding wilderness of Mt. Rainier. The snow still has yet to melt that high up in the mountains at that time of year. Not to be thwarted, I found a lower elevation hike along the southern fork of the Skokomish river in the Olympic mountain range. Friz and I hit the trail head at 12:00PM. About four hours into the hike we were about 6.5 miles in to the trail. In many places along the trail you could see where the river, at its most violent, carved away the earth. You could see large tree debris littering various spots along the river.
As the trail started a mild up hill assent I put my head down and got busy with the task of climbing the hill. I was jerked from my concentration when I heard the sound of scrambling feet desperately grab for an earthy purchase. I looked up and didn’t see Friz. Instantly saw what had happened. I ran the 15 feet to the end of the trail and looked down to watch Frizbe falling from a two-story cliff. I watched in panic as he bounced off a small out cropping and then finish the decent to the river’s edge. During the seconds it watched this happen, I a grown man, freaked out! I just knew that I was watching the death of my best friend.
I’m not a suspense writer so I will not keep you in it any longer than necessary. After reaching the bottom, Frizbe slowly got up and looked up me where I was hollering and asking if he was ok. He trotted around looked for a way to get up to me, telling me he would be ok. I talked him out of trying to climb up to me as best I could, but in truth I don’t think it was necessary. Knowing Frizbe the way I do means that he could potentially get himself into more trouble so I had to think fast.
The panic I harbored during Frizbe’s descent was replaced with calm and the adrenalin boost gave me the clarity I needed. I remember thinking that I was firing on all cylinders now. The land was visually surveyed to revealed that the river that once washed away the earth also made a land cove. In other words Frizbe was pinned in by cliff and river. The survey also showed me that there was a spot where it was about a half a story lower and much less straight down. I cautiously walked along the edge while talking with Frizbe as I moved so that he would see me and not get himself into more trouble. I wasn’t sure how swift the water was from that distance. Frizbe is not a stranger to swimming but he doesn’t have the power he once had.
As I cautiously followed the cliff line I found the lowest and safest spot to make the rescue attempt. The problem I faced was getting Frizbe to me or me to him. As I said the water looked rather swift and I knew it would be ice-cold. If I got down to where Frizbe was at we would have to ford the river. Unless I could get him to come to me by meeting him half way.
The problem was how to get half way down a slippery slop with a 40 lbs backpack strapped on. Fortunately I was ready. I had several feet of para-cord (or 550 cord for some) with me. Frizbe might have been able to make it half way, but as I was getting ready for the decent he tried to make it up, despite how loudly I urged him not to. When he failed and slid back down I knew his confidence was shot for a second attempt. I got the para-cord wrapped around a tree, put on my gloves, took off my backpack and started the decent. As I said I was firing on all cylinders and realized that if I left my backpack behind and I wasn’t able to make it back up then how would I retrieve the backpack. I had a small section of para-cord left and tied it to the backpack and dropped the cord over the cliff. That way if I was over the edge and wasn’t able to make it back up at least I could pull the pack down. Once I got myself over the edge it became clear just how much of a necessity that would be. It was a lot worse than I thought it was after I was over the edge. The complete logistics of getting down is not necessary. Suffused to say the para-cord was a life saver and helped me get to Frizbe. We were both quite happy to be reunited. A quick once over showed him to be ok. He didn’t seem to have any broken or cracked ribs and no blood was present. With that task complete the next task faced us. How to get out of this water blocked cove considering we could not climb back up the cliff.
While I snapped a few photos of the cliff face I was working on a way to get us both back to the trail. To carry out the plan there was no choice but to ford the river. Now that I could see the river up close it was less menacing that it seemed from above, but not without its danger though. A spot to cross was picked. Fortunately I remembered to bring my water shoes with me. Once the water shoes were on Frizbe was tied via para cord to my backpack. I wanted a way to keep him with me in case the water got to swift for him. As I was half was across Frizbe began to have trouble swimming. It was not because of the river, it was because he was tied to me and it was hindering him. I was drowning my dog. The possibility of the rope being a hindrance occurred to me before we started across and a quick release knot was made for when I had to quickly disconnect him. That is just what I did.
We both got across the river just fine. We followed the river down a bit and found another place to cross over back to the side we needed to be on. It worked out that a nice area was available for a camping spot on the other side. A fire was made so we could both dry off. If we pushed hard we could have skipped the fire and made for the truck. We would have pushed the remaining daylight durring last leg of it. Frizbe was shivering and I feared he might go hypothermic, so camp was made and we got dry and warm.
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Last 5 posts in Photography
- mountains and clouds.jpg - January 29th, 2012
- Bridge.jpg - July 2nd, 2011
- drift wood - July 2nd, 2011
- vintage car - July 2nd, 2011
- stairs - May 28th, 2011


