happy helmet

Recently, I posted to a tree climbing forum asking for experienced climber's thoughts on my fall. I expected to get some useful feedback, and I did. I'm thankful that they went easy on me in their frank assessments of where I went wrong.

I see that it was a case of ignorance and overconfidence that got me into trouble. And I see that it stemmed from being self-taught. I'm lucky I came out of it as good as I did.

I really want to climb again, and I believe I can do it carefully. But, I realize I still have a lot to learn, including some basics. I need to keep up the conversations, and if possible climb with, experienced climbers.

Just a few photos from recent rides/hikes in January, showing a variety of winter days.

This first was at Parker Mill.

Out on the Poto, early morning.

After a good snow.

Along the Huron at sunset.

One of my favorite things about the Poto is that it winds through an area with a ton of lakes and ponds. The bridges are great places to stop and cop a view (and catch your breath).

Yesterday was a real fine day for November. Nearly 60 and sunny.

It's been eight weeks since my accident, and I'm steadily healing. I saw the surgeons a couple of weeks ago, and they said it was looking good, I could stop wearing the brace, and start (carefully) riding. They frowned on much off-road, but I know how to ride and not wipeout. Some trails are much less risky than others. Like Island Lake. I had a great ride there yesterday. I felt really good. Started out behind a couple of guys who were setting a nice easy pace, so I hung with them for a while. They both had had bone marrow transplants, one had leukemia, and the other lymphoma. One said he had been an elite-level racer before his sickness. They were doing great. I felt inspired. I took the photo above on a bridge across the Huron. I dig the painterly feel that comes across.

On September 8 I went for a climb in my favorite tree, a big red oak in my front yard. I got up around 60 feet or so, where I snapped this pic of myself.

I look a little worried, don't I? I wish I had been more worried. I might have thought twice about what I was about to do.

I decided to descend from a position out on a limb, something I'd done before. It would take me close to a limb from a neighboring red oak. I set my tie-in and began to descend. When I reached the other limb I realized that I wouldn't have enough rope on my descending line to reach the ground. In the picture below the arrow at the top shows the descent direction from the higher limb, which is out of the picture. The orange limb is the lower one I had reached. At this point I had to choose whether to go back up and find another way down, or tie in to this limb and descend from it. I knew this limb, though alive, had a dead branch sticking out the top of it. Unlike other dead branches, where the dead material stops at the main limb, this branch went partially into the limb and continued along the top of it back to the trunk. It looked like the live part below had grown up and around the dead part, almost completely covering it. I had been on top of this limb before, putting weight on it and testing its strength. I'd also been hanging from it before, although I also had a second tie-in at the time as backup. I had determined that the limb was sound enough to serve as a tie-in. I was wrong.

I decided to tie-in to the limb and lower myself from there. I also decided to undo my tie-in from the higher branch right away. I could have left it for part of the descent but would have had to untie it before reaching the ground. I thought this unnecessary (never again). After retrieving my other line I began to descend. Immediately I heard a loud crack from the limb close to the trunk. I swore but still thought I would be OK. After all, this limb was live, it wouldn't just give suddenly. It would slowly bend and break the live wood a bit at a time. It might even just swing me down to the ground, perhaps faster than I would have liked. However, I thought I should make my descent fast and not worry about burning my rope too much. So I started my drop again, this time pressing hard on the top of my friction hitch to release it more. The limb didn't even give me an inch. The second I started to descend, the whole limb dropped with a loud CRACK! (I'm shaking even now as I write this.) I was in freefall for a couple of seconds, the sound of flapping leaves all around me. Then my feet hit. My weight was back far enough that they didn't hit hard. It was my butt that came down hard. It didn't even hurt for that first second as the limb came down over me. Fortunately the limb was curved, so it didn't hit me, but swung down beyond my feet.

Then the pain hit, right in my lower back. It was not an unfamiliar pain. Kind of your typical lower back pain, multiplied by a hundred. I knew I had really hurt myself, but I wondered how bad. In my agony I crawled up onto my hands and knees and started squirming around. I realized that my legs were working fine, and I could feel them, too. This was good! At this point I still hoped that I could get up and walk it off, like dozens of bike wipeouts. But I think I knew soon enough that I wasn't that lucky this time.

In a few seconds people came running. My kids and wife from the house, a passer-by from the street. It all gets blurry in my memory from here. Allison asked if she should call 911. I thought about how humiliating it would be to be taken away in an ambulance. That would just prove to my neighbors that they were right all along, that I was crazy to be climbing in those trees. I told her that I would get myself in the car, then she could drive me to Emergency. She argued a bit and I realized pretty quickly how stupid I was being. I told her to go ahead.

Since we live around the corner from a firehouse, I was on a backboard in 5 minutes. They first probed my spine and didn't seem to find anything wrong. I told them the pain was to either side of my spine, like across the top of my pelvis. The ambulance ride wasn't much fun. I felt every little bump. Emergency, painkillers, x-rays, CT scan, bad news. I'd fractured my L1 vertebrae. A compression fracture, which blew bone out all around.

It would require surgery. A fusion of 4 or 5 vertebrae. But, that would wait until Monday. They wanted everything to stabilize or something like that. Meanwhile I had to lay there through 2 nights with a broken back. The other fun thing was my digestive system went haywire. I started bloating up with gas until I literally almost burst, and I couldn't relieve myself. It was most unpleasant. I learned quickly what pain drugs worked for me and which ones didn't. My favorite was Dilaudid. It actually would start to work before they had injected the full dose into my IV, but it didn't last real long. Morphine was nice, too.

Monday, September 10th was my surgery. I think I was in around 3 hours. They "harvested" bone from my pelvis and grafted it onto my spine. They inserted 8 titanium screws and 2 rods to join 4 vertebrae into a single unit. Side-view and back-view x-rays:

I was in recovery around 4 hours. When I regained semi-conciousness everybody had a fun time talking to me and watching my eyes roll around. At least that's what they tell me. When I really came to later, they'd all left, which was fine since I couldn't talk around the tube going down my throat. Had one in my nose, too. And another somewhere else I won't mention. At least I didn't have to get out of bed for anything. When Allison called they told her I was awake and watching TV.

They had me stand and move to a chair around 24 hours after surgery. I was in ICU until Tuesday evening, then moved to the room I'd be in for nearly another week. I ended up spending 9 days in the hospital. Most of it was more about dealing with my messed-up digestive system than my back. I didn't eat for several days, and because my injury seemed to have screwed up my nerves in certain areas, I couldn't move my bowels or void my bladder myself. It was not a pleasant time. Just let me say that some nurses are better than others with a catheter. I was ecstatic when I could finally pee and crap and eat some jello!

On Monday the 17th my surgeons asked if I wanted to go home, then smiled at the way my face lit up. It was great walking out into a sunny warm day. Great just to be walking.

Back to the tree. Dad shot some photos of the break area on the limb. As you can see, there wasn't much live wood suporting a mostly-healthy limb.

Lessons learned: #1 Always have a backup tie-in. #2 You can't completely trust wood, equipment, or abilities — see #1.

I'm also very thankful for health insurance. The bills totaled over $125,000.00!

Deep thanks to everyone who healed, encouraged, supported, provided, prayed, thought, sent cards, visited, called, cooked meals, watched kids, and more for me. Mom & dad, Ted & Peg, Randee, Cheryl & Berta, Trisha & Sandy, Keri & Andy, Grandma, Gerry & Corky, Fred & Irina, Mary & Tom, E.T., Marsha, Mark, Michael, Pat, Liz, Jane, Art, and all my aunts, uncles, & cousins, Dave, Julie, and everyone at Hile Design (Dave should get the boss-of-the-year award), Logic Solutions, Jeff, DesignHub, EMUCE, CMSAA, RSSAA, AACS, and all the people who heard about me through them. Thanks to the amazing doctors and hard-working nurses at UM hospital, especially Dr. Lee. I had some good roommates, especially Marty. Paul, Christopher & Margaret, sorry I had to put you through this, and thanks for your love. And most of all, Allison, who stayed at my side while I was going through hell, and is continuing to love and support me through my healing — thanks, babe. I'll be more careful next time.