Outdoor Safety — How I Started Rock Climbing
Back in early October 2017, I went out to Boulder on a solo excursion to get some time away from work and NYC. In retrospect, to say I was unprepared is an understatement. I remember not having hiking boots, trekking poles, or any combination of gear that I now consider to be essential.
The bulk of the trip went as well as one could have expected — I rented a bike and rode around the canyon roads (saw a cute fox), did a number of “moderate” hikes that felt easy to me and inflated my ego.
That’s another thing that I’ve mentioned before - anytime I complete a trail now, I provide a detailed description of my experience and fitness levels so that people have a frame of reference for who is writing the review.
On my second to last day, I was speaking with my Airbnb host and telling her that I was going to try the 1st / 2nd Flatiron trail. She said that was a great one and recommended I continue just past where the trail seems to end to get a view of the 14'ers in the background. Rather than asking more questions about the trail, I took her suggestion at face value and went with it. A bus ride down Route 7 and a walk-up University Hill brought me to Chautauqua Park.
This trail was rated as hard and it definitely felt that way to me, especially with my well-worn sneakers. It wasn’t impossible though, and I found the ascent really interesting, especially on the switchbacks.
When I arrived at the end of the trail I saw people turning around but I kept going and indeed I was greeted with a beautiful view of the 14'ers. I took my backpack off and had some snacks (while “fighting” off chipmunks that seemed to be coming out of the woodworks upon smelling my food!)
After 20 minutes or so, I took the above picture and continued on my way, not realizing that this was an Out-and-Back trail. So, I walked down the backside of the 1st Flatiron and saw a few people here and there. I figured I must be going in the right direction. Cell service was spotty here, so as far as I could tell there was a Strava “segment” that followed this trajectory. I did notice the terrain getting rockier and steeper, but didn’t think much of it.
At a certain point, I suspected I needed to circle back towards the Chautauqua Park entrance. The Flatiron sloped down and a sizable break in the rock appeared — a “clear” spot to traverse back down (gully). The slope was gentle, there were trees growing out of the rock and it generally seemed manageable. I continued without realizing that the incline was getting steeper and at a certain point, there was no turning back.
I had no rock scrambling skills at the time and was in really used sneakers with no grip. Things started to get scary when I realized there was a 20-foot drop at about a 50 or 60-degree angle. My inclination was to try to support myself on either side by pressing into the rock on the gully’s sides. I was able to make it down a couple of feet when my shoe slipped and I started sliding down. At that moment, all I remember thinking was: “I hope I don’t break my back” (my best friend from high school had broken his a few months prior).
It was a very weird feeling — if you’ve ever had the misfortune of being in a car accident, this was reminiscent of that, time seems to stop and then speeds back up.
When the dust settled, I assessed my state — the left side of my body had the most impact: leg had plenty of rock rash, my hand was cut up, and my watch got ripped off of my wrist. Beyond that everything seemed okay. I stood up and could sense something was maybe a bit off with my left foot, but I could bear my weight on it.
From the spot where I fell, the terrain leveled off. Maybe 30 feet later, I came across the rock climber access staircase for the 1st Flatiron and saw some folks setting up. They looked at me a bit confused since I obviously didn’t have any gear and was cut up, but no one said anything.
From there, I knew exactly where I was and I ended up heading back to the ranger station (some 2 miles later). I guess adrenaline really IS powerful. I explained to the ranger what happened and she helped get me some ice packs and offered some wipes for my cuts. What was interesting was that she said she technically couldn’t offer medical assistance unless she had been out patrolling and seen me on the trail. She suggested I call an Uber and go over to the nearest urgent care for treatment.
I remember the nurse being so kind and I felt bad because she had to sponge bath embedded rock and debris from various places around my body… Once I was cleaned up and bandaged, it was time to get an x-ray on my foot. It revealed a relatively minor avulsion fracture on my big toe right at the joint with my 1st metatarsal. The practice gave me a supportive sandal and provided me with my x-rays on a CD. “Luckily” this happened at the end of my trip. My poor Airbnb host was so genuinely sorry and drove me to the airport a day and a half later.
Once I hobbled back to NYC, I made an appointment with a podiatrist who gave me a boot and was confident that at my age and fitness, I would be back to normal activity in 4–6 weeks. I worked from home for a couple of weeks and ventured back to the financial district via the new (at the time) ferry system. In my mind, since I was “in the boot” I was safe. How wrong I was…
If you’re reading this and have a foot fracture or know someone that does. Please, get or ask your doctor for a knee scooter. Yes, it looks goofy, but you’ll be flying around and you’ll be giving your fragile foot bones the adequate time to set and ossify.
I usually walk quickly and it took this injury to realize how fast everyone in the city moves. The physical stress of walking around ended up re-fracturing the healing avulsion. From that point forward, healing stopped. I would go in for x-rays every two weeks and no progress would appear. Needless to say, I went back to working from home where I stayed for 7–8 months.
I remember doing all this extensive research on ultrasound therapy and stumbled upon the exogen bone growth stimulator, which my doctor prescribed for me and insurance thankfully covered in full!
To this day, I have to say this device allowed the fracture to resume healing. It didn’t happen overnight, but after 5 months with no change, my x-rays started showing progress a mere month after beginning with the Exogen device.
I also believe that contrasts baths helped accelerate the healing further. It wasn’t pleasant, but I would heat up a bucket of water to “jacuzzi temperatures” and in another I would put cold water with tons of ice. I’d spend 1 minute in the ice water and two minutes in the hot, alternating 4 times. The ideas behind this was that the hot water expanded the blood vessels, while the cold water shrank them — thus creating a pump-like effect for nutrient rich blood to get delivered to the fracture site (I have relatively poor extremity circulation).
By the 7th or 8th month, the fracture was finally showing union. I couldn’t believe it! (Granted, I also supplemented my diet with vitamin D and calcium — I do think there was a synergistic effect). I continued on with the exogen and contrast baths until all the pre-programmed sessions expired on the device. I think I may have had one more x-ray after the one below, but this was the last image I could find in my photo album:
Once I got the go-ahead from my podiatrist, I began physical therapy. At this stage, I literally could not bend my big toe more than a few degrees. After some incredible traction work and gua sha stone on the bottom of my foot, mobility returned!
Before that point, I honestly thought I’d never been able to run again — but less than 6 months after, I entered my first cyclocross season without any residual pain. The following spring, I happened to walk by the climbing gym in my neighborhood and went inside to ask about costs.
The next week (it must have been mid-March, 2019) I rented gear and went on the auto belays. I remember my forearms shaking after a 45-minute session, but I was hooked. I continued to go the following few weekends, mainly keeping to myself until I ran into a tricky corner that I couldn’t figure out. I got some tips from a guy who ended up being the first person I met at the gym and coincidentally we’ve been climbing outdoors together now during this pandemic.
I bought my own gear, got a membership at the gym, and started going twice a week — Wednesday nights were for bouldering and Saturdays for top-roping. After I could climb most 5.10b’s, I decided to sign up for the Intro to Lead class and got my certification a mere 6 weeks before COVID hit. Climbing outdoors has been phenomenal but that introduction is reserved for another story!
One thing is for sure though, if I had any form of climbing experience when I took that misstep on the 1st flatiron, I wouldn’t have fallen. Then again, in a weird sense, I’m thankful for that fall because it changed my life in many, many ways.
Now, if there’s even a chance that I’m going to be hiking, I wear my boots on the plane. I also found myself taking on a pseudo-ranger role to help people when I saw folks dangerously ill-prepared for a strenuous trail (i.e. hiking down into the Grand Canyon with a 0.33 L bottle of water and flip flops).
