Summer in Seneca - Round II
03/17/2025 - 08/07/2025
What I've Been Up To
Pictures at the bottom :)
Well, I'm getting shockingly close to the end of another season guiding at Seneca! I'm writing this post now, a full three-ish months before the season actually ends, because I have two biiiiig trips planned coming up! One is actually in a week, and the other is in September. All that to say, I'm writing this reflection on the season thus far because I know I won't want to do it after those trips, and I feel like I already have plenty of things to reflect on as it is!
As y'all know, I spent much of the spring working feverishly on this website and making my climbing database, so I didn't get as much climbing done in the spring as I might have otherwise. However, I was spending so much time working on my computer that I actually ended up renting a room 10 minutes down the road from Seneca at a guide house for $150 a month! All last season I had been living in my van in the driveway of Seneca Rocks Mountain Guides (SRMG), which was also where my boss lived. It was awesome living in walking distance from Seneca Rocks with no rent, an outdoor shower, fully furnished kitchen, and walking distance from my work. However, my only private space being the interior of my van made it hard to work on my projects, so I ended up moving out to the guide house in Riverton, ironically populated primarly by guides working for SRMGs competition, Seneca Rocks Climbing School (SRCS). They're all my homies though and we've gotten along great!
Other than that change, things have been largely the same this season. Lots of guiding at Seneca and via ferrata tours, climbing for fun, and training for one of my upcoming adventures (a post on that to come in late September or October).
I decided that this summer was going to be my "5.11 summer" and, while I didn't do quite as much recreational climbing as I might have hoped, I would say I followed through on my 5.11 summer! I finally decided to kick that spooky stigma that 5.11 had for me and just got on 'em and did my best. So far this year I've onsighted quite a few 5.11s on sport, sent a few 5.11s on trad, and even onsighted one or two on trad to boot!
I'm also projecting a few 5.12s here and there, and I feel like the send is SO CLOSE, I just have to put in the time and effort to get them dialed, which is hard when my attention is being pulled in so many different places. I know that they'll go in their own time though, especially if I keep pushing myself as I have been this summer.
Click the icon in the upper right to see descriptions of each image :)
Lessons in Accidents
Another thing that has set this season apart for me has been climbing accidents at Seneca. As of writing this post, there have been two major accidents requiring a rescue1 2 and one accident in which the climbers were able to self rescue (to my knowledge, there may have been more self rescues that I just don't know about). Thankfully none of these accidents were fatal, but they were certainly life changing, absolutely for the direct victims but also for many of the victims climbing partners and the many climbers nearby who assisted with the rescues.
Now, this post isn't to discuss the minutae of the accidents and get into the weeds with exactly what the victims could have done better to avoid the accident, but rather to reflect on accidents as a whole, my role as a guide, and responding to accidents as a recreational climber.
1. First accident
2. Second accident
1. Avoiding Accidents
Something became abundantly clear to me after reflecting on these accidents: The swiss cheese model of risk. In each of these major accidents, upon further investigation, it became clear that the victims involved had made many mistakes leading up to the final mistake that resulted in their fall and injury. Some of these mistakes were even made before arriving at Seneca!
In my interpretation of the swiss cheese model of risk, each choice you make represents a slice of cheese. The riskier your choice, the more holes there are in the slice. When you take enough risks, eventually the holes will all line up and that's when an accident actually occurs.
Risk is an inherent part of life, but we needn't tempt fate with it. We ought to be doing our utmost to ensure that we put as few holes as possible in our cheese slices so they don't line up.
In climbing especially, the swiss cheese model pairs quite interestingly with the negative feedback fallacy. In climbing, your cheese is only tested if you actually fall. Many climbers have made mistakes that could have gotten them killed only if they fell. But they didn't fall, they experienced no consequences, so they think that the mistake/s were ok, or they may even remain completely unaware of any mistakes they may have made in the first place!
Staying safe out on the mountain requires a great degree of humility, accurate assessment, and a little technical know-how.
2. Responding as a Guide
Guides inherently bear more responsibility when there is an accident nearby. With their technical training, they can perform vitally important early rescue steps while first responders make their way to the scene. I would argue that guides are morally responsible to wield their training as soon as is practically possible after being alerted to an accident nearby, then to act in a supportive capacity once qualified first responders arrive. By extension, guides have a legal responsibility to their clients, but also a moral and practical responsibility to all the climbers around them to be well trained and capable of performing a rescue. Moral because our profession lends us skills and knowledge that are relatively rare among standard climbers, and practical because all eyes turn to the nearby guide in the event of an accident, and that guide damn well better be prepared for it!
3. Responding as a Recreational Climber
One thing I have been so impressed by during each accident I've responded to at Seneca is the incredible turnout of recreational climbers who seemed to appear from every crack and crevice to help in the rescue. They have been instrumental in facilitating rescues both by helping to man systems and by contributing gear to set up the systems in the first place.
While recreational climbers have less of a moral responsibility than guides, they both share the same moral responsibility to provide what help they can to aid someone in distress.
Most recreational climbers, myself included before my guide training, don't think too much about accidents. We're aware of the possibility, but we tend to think we'll know what to do when it happens, or we even try not to think about it at all.
Knowing what I know now, many rescue techniques are based in standard climbing techniques, but take them further or use them in novel ways. Recreational climbers should all strive to be prepared for the worst, especially those who venture into remote areas where it will take first responders a long time to reach the site of an accident. At Seneca we host Community Rescue Clinics twice a year, but other places have similar events, and you can always hire a guide for a crash course in self rescue!
Lastly, I would highly recommend reading accident reports. Learning everything you can about an accident is a great way to vicariously learn lessons and helps get you into that mindset of being very aware of the true danger involved.
Okay, I'll get off my soapbox now!
Renewed Thoughts on Risk
A few years ago I wrote a little piece on death/risk in adventuring. After reflecting on these accidents and the lessons I've learned as a guide, I thought I'd revisit it and write something new to reflect my new perspectives after literally doubling my time climbing (I had been climbing for three years when I wrote the original piece, which was three years ago now!). I've included the old piece below, as it was on the old version of my website and still hasn't been ported over to the new one.
Upon revisiting my words, I was pleasantly surprised by how much I still identify with them. I do admit that the tone is somewhat elitist and blase, but, especially with the footnote, I was happy to see the proof that I've always been a safety-conscious climber.
However, I think my perspective has changed since in that I understand risk calculation so much better now than I did three years ago. Thankfully, my strategy at the time was "when in doubt, make it extra safe." If myself three years ago had been told of some of my current climbing achievements, he very well might have been aghast and decried them as sketchy through ignorance.
Now, I have a much more nuanced, accurate understanding of what risks I'm taking due to my understanding of the gear, my own abilities, and my decision-making processes becoming so much more accurate.
This is not to say that one more year of recreational climbing and two seasons guiding has made me into an accident-proof climbing machine. I still strive to learn more and to continue to have an accident-free climbing career. I forget where I heard this the first time, but I still live by the mantra: "The mountain is trying to kill you."
Relating back to my previous piece, I still think that bare, unmitigated risk is no reason to avoid a thing. Risk is an extremely complicated relationship of factors, almost all of which can be mitigated to a reasonable degree, or, failing that, consciously avoided.
Death in Adventure
4/2/2022
I recently had an assignment for one of my Psychology classes about death anxiety. It had me thinking about my past struggles with death anxiety and how my adventurous lifestyle is somewhat contradictory to anxious feelings about death. After writing the assignment, I thought it would be valuable to write out my thoughts here, specifically relating to adventure.
Also, as an aside, the tile image for this post is of a place that gave me refuge during the initial COVID lockdown. I learned to develop sport and trad routes, deep water soloed for the first time, and got through a breakup there. I don't have any pictures associated with these ramblings, so I thought I'd pick a place close to me for the tile!
When adventuring at pretty much any level, death is everpresent. While death is everpresent for most adventuresports, the more serious you get about adventuring, the more obvious it becomes. Just a few weeks ago, a woman died while cragging in Joshua Tree NP due to an anchor failure. Most adventurers have a host of stories they could tell you about someone who died to a preventable accident.
Which brings me to my personal experience and my personal thoughts on death, risk, and why we partake in such adventures at all.
I've only had one near death experience in my 4 years of adventuring, and, as with most, it was very preventable. It was the first canyon I had ever done, and the last drop was 150 feet long; ~40 feet through a large tube, then ~110 feet free hanging to the ground. There had been several other, shorter drops that we had done, but this one was long enough to necessitate a pull-cord with a 'biner block, making it a single strand rappell rather than a double strand rappell, as the others had been. 10 feet into the rappell, I realized that my prussik backup was totally useless as it didn't have enough loops to catch the rope. I wrapped the rope around the rappell device (a piranha) several times to hold me in place as I untied and retied my prussik. As I was working on retying the prussik, my wraps came undone, and my heart leapt into my throat. I scrabbled with my feet against the wall and snapped my hand to the break strand to keep me from whizzing down the rope to the ground over 100 feet below. I got it. I held the break strand down with a vice grip as I finished tying my prussik one handed, then finished the rappell.
Weirdly, I wasn't as shaken as I thought, or perhaps should have been. I knew what I had been getting myself into, I should have known to tie more loops in my prussik, and I should have known to tie a reliable knot to hold me in place as I fixed the prussik. No if's and but's about it, I messed up, and I got away with it. However, I easily could have been a Yahoo! News article reporting a regrettable canyoneering accident in Escalante National Monument.
This experience, combined with the many accident reports I've read, really drove home how dealing with heights and adverse conditions in rock climbing, canyoneering, or caving can bring you incredibly close to death. A single error in judgement can bring it all to an end. Yet I still do it. I do it not because I'm young, dumb, and missing the awareness that life can be ephemeral. I do it because I know that life can be ephemeral. I gain a unique appreciation for life by getting in touch with its fragility, which allows me to appreciate how lucky I am to be living and experiencing life as I am.
Every choice you make has risk. Even everyday choices, like whether to have a daily soda, can be life threatening, but those risks in adventure are often a lot more in-your-face with the risks. If I had a life insurance policy I'd have a higher premium as soon as I wrote down my hobbies. I still have these hobbies because I want to have a life well-lived. I want to be an old man with a lot of memories to look back on and crazy stories to tell. This goal justifies the risks. If I were to put down adventuring to ensure I lived to an old age, what kind of life would I look back on? I would have hidden from my drive to explore and experience everything the wilderness has to offer; I would have hidden from the person I want to be. Dying in that pursuit would be a huge bummer, because I'm looking forward to being old one day, but that is still better than the alternative: living a life untrue to myself.
Footnote: I don't mean to imply that all risks are inherently present in adventure. I made a point of mentioning that most accidents are entirely preventable. Compared to rappelling accidents, accidents from rockfall (an actually unpreventable accident) are exceedingly rare. I fully intend on growing to a ripe old age while adventuring by doing my best to mitigate every risk possible while still engaging in the activities I want to do.
For example, I love to climb alone, but I'm not a huge fan of bouldering. I love being by myself high up on a rock face, alone with my thoughts and nature. Yet, free soloing is too risky to justify climbing alone. For that reason I go through the whole hassle of rope soloing, where, if I were to fall, it's a lot less likely to be game over.
All of life is calculated risk. It's up to each and every one of us to decide for ourselves what level of risk we can tolerate when making a decision.
Objective
Work another season guiding at Seneca Rocks, learn some new stuff, climb a lot of rocks, and have an awesome time!
Sections
A Little Something
"You gotta have mysteries. People who have all the answers are a pain in the neck."
~ Jan Conn