A CLOSE CALL ON MT. TIMPANOGAS

Since I/we had not climbed Mt. Timpanogas in 1998, Ellen and I and the Willises decided to climb it on the Labor Day weekend. Always in the past, we had climbed Timp from Aspen Grove. This time we wanted to try it from American Fork Canyon on the Tipanooke Trail.

Inasmuch as Steve and Margaret had baby Tyler in tow, we determined that Ellen and Margaret would cllimb up to the lake at the bottom of the glacier and wait for us. So Steve and I left them to scale the north ridge with Margaret's advice that we slide down the glacier in tandem.

When Steve and I reached the top, we observed that a thunder cloud was moving north from Y mountain with both rain and lightning coming down. Consequently we hurried south along the ridge toward the saddle above the glacier. About half way to the saddle, the rain started with increasing fury and strong winds. We tried some shelter on the lee side of the ridge, but were getting increasingly wet from the rain. Finally I suggested that we push on down and try the glacier. By the time we reached the saddle, we were soaked; and then the rain subsided.

When we got ready to slide down, Steve sat in front of the plastic garbage bag, and I prepared to sit immediately behind him on the sack. As we started to push off, I must have got my right foot caught in the snow, because the next thing I knew I was sliding pell-mell down the icy glacier headfirst on my back. I tried to dig my hands and arms into the hard, slick surface to slow me down, but I was sliding so fast that it was impossible. The surface of the glacier was pockmarked with ridges and small holes so that the back of my head and shoulders were banging hard at an incredible clip. My feet were thrown up by the banging of my hips on the rough surface.

Finally my slide slowed and stopped about 100 yards down the flacier, much to my relief. I can only guess that I may have been sliding faster than 15 MPH, certainly faster that I can rurn. While the wild ride occupied my concern to get control of my body, I had fleeting thoughts of dropping into some of the large potholes that dotted the glacier, which would have broken my neck or caused some other serious injury, or death. As I gained my feet and was able to review my wild slide, the awesome realization of the consequence of heading into one of the potholes on my back headfirst brought a rush of great relief and gratefulness to the Lord and guardian angels for my survival.

As I stood to view the scene above me where I had traversed seconds before, I was somewhat dizzy, due in part that my glasses were missing, as well as my hat. This situation was relayed to Steve who had stopped shortly after our aborted takeoff and had observed my dangerous journey. We scanned the trail of my slide without finding the glasses but did retrieve my hat.

Our descent of the glacier was made without much difficulty, despite my feeling some unsteadiness from the slide and the impaired sight due to the loss of my glasses. We caught up with Margaret and Ellen and reached our car after a seemingly endless trail with Steve and I taking turns carrying Tyler. Without my glasses, I drove home somewhat cautiously.

The following week I acquired some new glasses. About three weeks later Douglas came to a meeting at BYU and wanted to climb Timp during his stay with us. In part to overcome any residual fear of climbing Timp, I agreed to accompany him, again on the Timpanooke Trail. When we reached the top and then hiked down tot he saddle, we met a couple climbing up the glacier to the saddle. As we chatted with the young man, we recounted to him my near disaster previously. When I mentioned that I had lost my glasses, he said that he had seen a pair of glasses at the hut near Emerald Lake at the bottom of the galcier. When we reached the hut, I found my lost glasses, no worse for the icy stay up above.