Climbing a 14er in southern Colorado back in the early 90's. Mt. Lindsey in the Sangre De Cristos. Northwest ridge route. Nothing crazy technical, but exposed and not easy to go quickly. Alpine start (well before sunrise), so as to get down before the thunderstorms (typically anytime after noon).
Approaching the summit approximately 9:30am. Everything going well, and beautiful clear skies.....except....ONE, dark, isolated storm cloud building up over the eastern plains. It is backing in and heading right for me. Again, once you commit to this ridge, you are kind of locked in. I was going along comfortably, but now I am anxious and scramble a bit faster (within the realm of safety). I am so close to the summit. Scurrying to it, I forego the usual signing of the register and begin to descend. Just below the summit, there is a small section of wider terrain with a slight headwall as "protection" from the gusty winds. Not so much from lightning. But I wanted to get there because it's a few feet lower than the actual ridgeline. I no sooner "jumped" down to that section....I heard (and felt) a buzzing on the button on top of my cap. Knowing what that meant, I had what is essentially a fraction of a second to crouch down....before a simultaneous loud BOOM and flash (the FIRST flash of lightning from that storm). I actually lost my hearing temporarily because of the sound echoing off the rock (Interestingly enough, I had temporarily lost my hearing a few months earlier at a Robin Trower concert....front row). The light was so pure white that....for a moment....I wondered if I had been hit, and this was the afterlife! Stunned, I stayed down for a few more seconds before I was jolted into reality by.....not another bolt....and not rain ....but SNOW (just checked an old journal of mine and it showed it was July 14th, 1990). Almost a whiteout, but I could discern the ridge and knew which way was DOWN!
But as sketchy as that ridge is going up (the route description defines the difficulty....Class 3.... and the risk factors Exposure: Considerable, Rockfall Potential: Considerable, Route-Finding: Considerable)....it's exponentially more sketchy when descending on slick, snow covered rock! But not knowing how long the storm was going to stick around (Sangres are notorious magnets for storm clouds)...and as as a sitting duck with more lightning at that altitude, and the snow getting worse by the minute, I felt compelled to descend. Since I obviously survived, it wasn't a BAD decision....though a couple of times I wondered, as I slipped and almost fell to what was sure to be a terrible fate. As it turned out, when I reached the saddle below the crux of the ridge (approximately a thousand feet lower), the skies cleared and it became warm rather quickly. But the snow higher up did not melt, as I looked up just before I drove away from the trailhead another hour or so later.
Ever since, while I already had respect for lightning as a climber for a few years before this climb, I watch the skies like a hawk. If I see a storm brewing....if I am outside (which is most of the day because of my job)....I anticipate and think about where the closest shelter might be located. I still hike and climb, but I will turn around and wait for a better day if it begins to darken up. There wasn't much I could do on that day....those isolated storms can happen ANYTIME in the Rockies (despite a forecast of clear skies). But I feel like I dodged that electrical bullet, and don't want to push the envelope again.
https://www.14ers.com/photos/mtlindsey/mRLind_110.jpg?lastupd=202106280720
Topic: Ughh, LIGHTNING! ⚡ (Read 2024 times)
