<div class='quotetop'>QUOTE(Paul R. Haller @ Nov 11 2006, 12:59 PM) [snapback]347532[/snapback]</div> Thank you for that insight into why someone might want to do something most of us would consider to be an unacceptable risk. I love hiking in the mountains. But I stick to trails, at altitudes where the oxygen difference is hardly noticeable, if at all, and were all is green plants and flowing water. (Though I've been in places where the glaciers have receded so recently that green growth has not yet set in, giving it a moonscape appearance... but then it's green on the other side of the ridge.)
<div class='quotetop'>QUOTE(Paul R. Haller @ Nov 11 2006, 02:59 PM) [snapback]347532[/snapback]</div> That is incredible that you could climb at 22,000 feet AND to survive the spill!!!
That is incredible that you could climb at 22,000 feet AND to survive the spill!!! Well, I was hanging upside down in mid air with a 4000 foot drop beneath me, bleeding badly from the gash in my thigh and unconcious. I also had some lacerations in my calf from my cramp ons. Ela Tashi got himself and George, the climber above me and the climber I was roped to, stabilized by driving in some additional pitons. Then, he and George hauled me up and after determining I wasn't dead, set to stitching my wounds right there on the side of Anapurna. Any wound that is deep or any head wound is bad at that altitude. No help can be had for a month or more so you must be prepared for the worst. The body is not easily able to recover in such extreme conditions and we all assumed the risk before going on that climb. I was just so fortunate to have such skilled climbers watching my back and risking their own lives to help me. It is part of the teams code. You do whatever you must to survive and to help others do the same. All those souls left at Everests flanks are there because it was beyond the teams ability to even recover the body. We never leave a a fellow climber behind and being forced to do so is a heavy burden you and the team carry forever. I survived, barely, thanks to my fellow climbers and I learned a lesson that I have never forgotten through fear, bitter cold, and driven piton. Keep your friends and family close, because you never know if in 12 hours if you'll be able to share laughter and their valued company with them again. They ARE your only lifeline. Life offers no guaruntees except for the constant of trusted close friends and family. These men and women who die in the mountains pursuing their passion are not forgotten, at least not by their climbing partners or their family. The very best of men and women are left there as a testament to our spirit and determination but not out of callous disregard, but out of bitter necessity. -Paul R. Haller-
Yes Paul. That's quite an amazing story... deserves to be part of the History Channel archives or "I Shouldn't be Alive" series. You must have been in one hell of a shape to climb 22,000ft!