Moment of Uncertainty

by Jeremy Whitehead

I had just finished inspecting the remains of a camera, which should have indicated something, and turned to descend. As I did so I rested my hand on one of a pile of blocks, which moved slightly, but seemed to settle back in place.

Hardly had I descended a pace when I found myself sitting on the floor of the recess, being pushed downwards by a seemingly irresistible force against my back. Desperately I tried digging my heels in, but the movement continued, seemingly quite slow but inexorable. Time passes slowly at such moments, but I remember seeing the steeper rocks approaching, up which we had scrambled and realised that I was going to get badly hurt, or worse. I let out an incoherent shout...

Then, to my right, I spotted a jut of solid rock, and braced my leg against it. For a moment it seemed I might be toppled sideways, but I dug my left heel in and miraculously the motion stopped, and the pressure increased but was bearable.

I yelled for somebody to get the rocks off me, there was an agonising wait while a belay was rigged and a rope sent down for me to clip into, then big Steve was there, pitching huge chunks of rock down the gully like a Titan, and soon I was free. Never have I been I more thankful .

I was lucky; injuries were slight - cut and grazed arms and fingers, and a badly bruised knee - and my sack had protected my back. But it all goes to show that in the Alps, even on an easy peak like the Riffelhorn, if you get off route you need extra care. But for days I didn't know whether to feel annoyed at having to limp around just as I had been getting really fit, or simply thankful that I was there at all.