I was planning on writing a second essay about moving the goalposts this week. I wish I was writing that essay. But I feel like I got hit by a truck.
Unfortunately, just after I finished writing last week, I found two emails in my inbox. They both told me that there had been another accident involving the Petzl Shunt. This is what I was told:
Trevor was climbing top rope solo at the New River Gorge, WV on a 13a called The Greatest Show on Earth. His Petzl Shunt disconnected from the rope and he fell 60 feet to the ground. He is in critical condition.
The climbers at the scene and rescue workers both said that his rope was intact and his Shunt was still properly attached to his harness. So it seems the only thing that could have happened is the device detached from the rope when he fell.
Part of the reason I’ve been able to stay positive during my recovery is the idea that I took one for the team. Sure, I have to sit a few months (or more) out of the game during a time when I was as strong as I’ve ever been. But no one else has to have my accident again, because I’ll be able to spread the word. Tragically, this turned out to be untrue.
I can hardly describe how sad this makes me. To think that another climber and another family is going to go through a worse situation than my own, for the exact same reason as my accident, is horrible. The fact that there were 10 weeks between my initial posts on Mountain Project and this new accident makes it even harder to swallow. There was potentially time for information to spread about my accident to this climber. But word didn’t get there in time.
I usually like to tie a nice little bow at the end of my essays, but I don’t think it makes sense this week. Instead, I’ll end with an observation:
I wrote in my week 1 essay that I felt like my accident wasn’t happening to me. That I was disassociated from the accident and all of the events that followed. That nothing felt real. That I was oddly unfazed.
After hearing the news of another person’s accident, I volley between sadness and anger. I’m suddenly not sleeping well. I’ve been staying up googling, hoping to hear an update about the WV climber’s condition. Hoping that someday I can reach out to him and his family.
I can hardly feel my own accident. But here I am, feeling every emotion for an accident that happened half-way across the country to someone I’ve never met.
Update:
Since writing this essay, a family member has confirmed that Trevor’s Shunt detached from his rope. Trevor is in the ICU but has no spinal cord damage and is expected to recover.