Eleven Bull Basin,  Olympic National Park,  Sep 10, 2012 - Sep 14, 2012     page 14 / 57

I had crossed the Catwalk before. The first third of the traverse consisted of a short scramble down some rock, then a hike on the north side of the ridge, along a narrow path. The remainder of the route consisted of scrambling along the ridge, slowly working toward Boston Charlie's camp on the east side.

I worked down the initial rock with no problem, then down the path most of the way. As I proceeded, I found the path moving into a shadowed area. The path appeared a bit damp. I moved forward, looking ahead from time to time, to monitor the route.

Then it happened: I landed upon a patch of ice. My left foot slipped out from under me. I was sliding! I had not yet gotten a good foothold with my right foot. Luckily, the drop to the valley floor was only 1500 feet, rather than 3500 feet, as on the south side of the ridge. But it was still a long way down. I certainly wouldn't slide 1500 feet, but the embankment below could make for a difficult recovery should I topple head over heels! I reached out with both arms, though there was nothing significant to grasp. Fortunately, it was enough. My arms stopped the fall. I held on for a moment, my heart pounding. The adrenaline surged through my body. I was able to lift a leg up on the narrow path and regain my stance. It was a wonder I could do so, considering how much my knees were shaking at that point!

I backtracked a bit, moved into the brush and caught my breath. I removed my pack, and retrieved my ice axe. Though I was not on snow, the axe might provide me with better balance on the narrow trail.

I contemplated the icy trail, and considered waiting until later in the day to cross. Ultimately, I continued. I moved slowly, anxiously taking each step along the remainder of the path. Finally, the trail headed up to the ridge. It would be safer there, on the rock.