As I regained consciousness, everything was black. It took a while for my mind to start thinking clearly, but slowly, very slowly, I realized my eyes were still closed. It seemed an effort to open them, and even that took time. Once I was convinced that they were open, I realized that it must be night. A very dark night indeed. I seemed to be lying down, in a twisted position, partly on my back and partly on my left side. Why couldn’t I see anything? No moon, no stars – it must be overcast – yes, that’s it. That’s why, when I looked up, there was nothing to see, none of the familiar lights of the night sky.

There was a salty taste in my mouth. It seemed like I should know what it was, and before long I recognized it – blood. Yes, I’d tasted blood in the past, and that’s what it was alright. I tried to move my body, but nothing worked – my arms and my legs didn’t respond. Even that effort was too much, and I lost consciousness again.

Awareness returned, and I opened my eyes to see daylight. There was no way of knowing how much time had passed, but I could now plainly see my surroundings. There was brush and trees, and I seemed to be on a gentle slope. I could move my head, and when I looked down to see my body, the full impact of my situation hit me. I was lying on the ground, but there were rocks on top of me – on my legs, my torso. My right arm was free but for some reason I couldn’t move it. My left arm was pinned under me and I couldn’t move it at all. I could feel pain in some parts of my body under the rocks, but some of me felt numb. The pain wasn’t overwhelming, but it was there.

Now the details of my situation were coming back to me. I was in a remote part of the desert, here to climb a peak – alone, of course. It didn’t seem like such a big deal, as I climbed by myself all the time. I had parked about a mile away, and set out on foot to reach the base of this mountain. It was mid-afternoon on a pleasant autumn day. When I had started to climb, I was on a rocky slope. There were some tricky spots but I was being careful. I don’t think I had climbed but twenty feet, though, when suddenly the rock under my feet gave way. It all happened so quickly – I grasped at the rock in front of me, but it was too little too late. That part of the slope must have been a lot looser than it looked, because as I fell, I knew that a bunch of rock was falling with me. That’s all I remembered. I must have fallen those twenty feet and landed at the bottom of the slope, along with a bunch of rock that landed on and around me. I hadn’t regained consciousness until it was dark.

I could move my head enough to see that my day pack was several feet away – it must have come off my back when I fell. There it sat, out of reach. Too bad, as it had everything I needed. Food, water, cell phone. Even though this was to be a short day-climb, I had brought 3 quarts to drink and plenty of snacks. I had learned, because of a few close calls years ago, to always bring more than enough. A lot of good that would do me now, though – it might as well be a mile away and not just ten feet. I knew my phone was turned off. Normally, I’d just turn it on when I reached a summit in order to save the battery, then try to call home to update my wife with my progress.

So now it was broad daylight. I could hear the occasional bird chirping and insect buzzing, but nothing else. I was far from where any vehicle would be, as I had driven in to an area where the public was not allowed to go, in an out-of-the-way corner of the military bombing range. I had parked my pickup in a wash where trees had hidden it from view, something I had practiced many times before. No question about it, I had taken every precaution to make sure nobody could spot me. Had I done all that so well that it was to be my undoing?

I had planned to be out for 4 days, climbing several peaks in the process. It was my custom to leave my wife copies of the maps I would use, marking on them where I planned to park and the route I would take on foot to get over to each peak and the route I hoped to take to each summit. I had done all of that. The unknown factor was that the order in which I’d climb the peaks, and the routes I might take on each, were subject to change, depending on what I ran into with driving conditions and boots on the ground. My wife had told me to please be careful and to check in with her by phone as often as possible to update her on my progress. This time, though, she seemed somewhat apprehensive about my going. Her woman’s intuition, perhaps. I think she’d be concerned by now, as I hadn’t checked in with her for most of yesterday, and now it was a new day and she still hadn’t heard.

The sun was shining directly on me, making me feel uncomfortably hot. During the night, it cooled off enough that I felt cold, even shivering at times. Even though my body must have been in some state of shock, I felt hungry. More than that, though, was the thirst. I knew that the human body could go for many days without food, but only a few days without water. I started to wonder if animals would find me, like coyotes. Even though my one arm was free, it was useless, so I wouldn’t be able to fend them off. I didn’t feel any insects, such as ants, crawling on me – so far, at least.

The whole day passed, slowly. I kept listening for the sound of a plane or helicopter, hoping that they would be looking for me. My wife wouldn’t contact the authorities until it had been a full 24 hours since she had last heard from me – that much I knew for certain, as we had been through that once before when I was late getting in touch with her. It was now late in the day, and I felt certain that by now she would have contacted the Sheriff’s office for the county I was in. What complicated things was the fact that I was in a place that was off-limits to the public. The sheriff would have to contact the Air Force to start a search. My imagination worked overtime, wondering how all of that would come together.

The day came to a close and night fell, my second, on the cold, hard ground under these rocks. If only I could move them with my free arm, but they were too heavy and my arm was useless. If only I could signal someone or call for help, but none of that was possible. In the darkness, I drifted in and out of sleep. Hours earlier, I couldn’t hold it any longer and had to urinate, wetting myself – it felt warm at first, then cold, adding to my misery. Once in a while, I would wake with a start, thinking I had heard something – maybe voices, or an aircraft. But no, just wishful thinking on my part.

Lying there in the dark was the worst of it. At times, a wave of fear or sadness would overwhelm me. I despaired of ever being found in time. I had spells of crying, and would then realize that tears were wasting even more of what precious moisture was still left in my body. I prayed. Not being a religious man by nature or upbringing, I wondered how sincere my pleas were, if they were enough to gain for me some divine intervention. What would I say to those I loved if they could hear me? Would I ask forgiveness for any past wrongs? I know I would tell them how much I loved them. If I survived this, what would I change? My climbing, or even my life itself?

I realized I was afraid of dying, that I just wasn’t prepared for that possibility. That was one of the most painful thoughts of all. There were times of overwhelming sadness and loneliness. I was waiting for death, alone, with no warm hand to hold, to comfort me at the end. Helpless – if only I could reach my pack – I’d be able to turn on my phone. I had heard that even if you couldn’t make a call, somehow they could ping your phone to see where you were if it was turned on.

The next day dawned. At least the weather was still fair – if it had rained, I could just imagine how much that would have added to my misery. As the day progressed, I thought I heard the sound of a distant aircraft, or was I just imagining things? Nothing came of it, so I guessed that it wasn’t real. It was late in the day, so it was obvious that time was running out and another night was upon me. My thirst was overwhelming, and my tongue felt swollen in my mouth. I’d give everything I owned for a drink of cool water.

The night passed, with moments of brief awareness washing over me. Lying there in the dark was when I most despaired. Yet another day arrived, still cloudless and fair. I no longer felt hungry, but thirst gnawed at me. I couldn’t feel much of anything in my body under those rocks, so I didn’t know if anything was broken or how badly I might be injured. By now, I was resigned to my plight, accepting the fact that I wasn’t going to make it out of there. All I could really do was to lie there with my eyes closed and drift in and out of consciousness.

Some hours passed, the sun was high overhead so it must have been mid-day. In my feverish state, I thought I heard the distant buzz of a helicopter, fading in and out, as if it were flying farther, then nearer. My heart leaped, but was the sound real? Yes —– I was sure of it now, I wasn’t imagining things. It sounded like it was over in the direction of my truck, a mile away. Then the sound came closer, and stopped. Silence. Were those distant voices? Dear God, please let it be so! A short time passed, and the voices became louder – I was sure of it now, they were coming towards me. I thought I could see some movement down the slope between the brush and trees. It didn’t take much longer and they were there beside me. I was sobbing uncontrollably as they carefully lifted the rocks off of me – three men and a woman, in uniform, my saviors.