Stranded on the Wall: A Real Rock Rescue Story and 3 Lessons You Need to Know

At some point in every climber’s journey, they face a situation where things don’t go as planned. Sometimes it’s a stuck rope, a botched rappel, or the realization that you’re in over your head with no easy way out. The ability to self-rescue isn’t just an advanced skill—it’s a fundamental part of being a competent climber.

Here’s a real-life rescue story from El Potrero Chico, Mexico, that highlights exactly why self-rescue skills matter and the key lessons you can take away to stay safe in the mountains.

The rescue occured on the route, The Treasure Of The Sierra Madre, It climbs the sunlit face on th right side of the canyon and stopping at th horizontal band of greenery.

The Call for Help

As dusk settled over The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, I heard the call go out: a party of two was stranded four pitches from the ground, their rope stuck, unable to continue rappelling.

An ambulance had arrived at the trailhead, but there were no local resources available to retrieve them. Other climbers had relayed the situation to me, and seeing no immediate rescue plan in motion, I volunteered to assist.

I packed a full rescue kit—rope, rack, first aid, extra hydration—and set off toward the wall.

The Stranded Climbers’ Situation

When I arrived, I found two young French climbers in their first year of climbing. They had started their multi-pitch route at 9 AM and had spent the entire day baking in direct sun on the southwest-facing wall.

After a full day of climbing in 20ºC heat, they were out of water and food. Now they were dehydrated, exhausted, and mentally drained. Yet, despite their situation, they were relatively calm—perhaps because they assumed someone would come to help.

The problem? Their rope was stuck, and they had no luck in retrieving it from the crack that it had snaked down (some 15 meters). Their technical systems had been slow and inefficient all day, and rather than adjusting their approach, they had pushed forward, burning through time and energy. When they finally started their descent, they ran into trouble, and now, they were stranded.

Executing the Rescue

Before heading up, I coordinated with local authorities and made a plan. Carrying two ropes, I climbed up to their position, set up a clean double rope rappel, and within the hour, we were all safely back on the ground.

Their stuck rope? We retrieved it later, but at that moment, their priority was getting down safely. The rope when retrieved was forced to be cut. Had this party had the tools to cut their rope they could have moved forward with a relatively straight forward self rescue.

This situation wasn’t a total freak accident—it was a chain of preventable mistakes. And it highlights three major lessons every climber should know.

Full sun, with minimal shade opportunities becomes its own hazard to manage in the hot desert.

3 Lessons That Could Have Prevented This Rescue

1. Being Prepared With The Right Tools and Skills

This pair was still learning the basics of belay transitions, rappelling, and rope management, yet they had launched into a full-day multi-pitch climb with minimal experience. On top of this they had only brought the equipment and know how for if everything went right but not if they encountered obstacles.

⏳ The Mistake: They weren’t dialed with their rope work required, to move efficiently on a very hot wall, which drained their energy and put them at risk of making more errors.

✅ The Fix: Practice belay transitions, rappels, and rope stacking techniques on smaller climbs before committing to an objective that you anticipate challenging you or your partner. Being prepared and familiar with your tools is essential.

2. Know When to Turn Around

At multiple points, these climbers had opportunities to reassess their situation. Their systems were slow, the sun was relentless, and they were struggling with basic rope management. Rather than acknowledging the signs, they pressed on, thinking they could just deal with the problems later.

⏳ The Mistake: Ignoring signs of fatigue and inefficiency instead of adjusting their plan. Failing to have open communication with your partner, leads to overlooking human factors that dictate your experience on the wall.

✅ The Fix: If you notice things aren’t going smoothly early on, recognize it as a red flag. Adjust the plan—whether that means bailing early, slowing down, or modifying your descent strategy—before exhaustion sets in. Checking in with the condition of your partner and how the climb is affecting one another physically and mentally is important to navigating little issues before they become big problems.

3. Self-Rescue is a Core Climbing Skill

The biggest takeaway? They could have gotten themselves out.

With a little more knowledge, they could have:
✔ Cut the stuck rope and used improvised anchors to continue rappelling down the bolted route.
✔ Used a Reepschnur rappel to minimize the amount of gear they had to leave behind.
✔ Understood that losing a few meters of rope is better than waiting for an outside rescue.

⏳ The Mistake: Relying on others for rescue instead of problem-solving on their own. It is our responsibility as outdoor users to be as self reliant as possible. SAR is there for emergencies and should be treated as such.

✅ The Fix: Learn self-rescue techniques so you can get yourself (or your partner) out of a tough situation without outside help.

Could You Get Yourself Out?

Every climber has close calls—it’s part of the game. The important thing is to learn from them before they become real emergencies.

If you’ve ever wondered how you’d handle a stuck rope, an injured partner, or a retreat from an unexpected situation, it’s time to build those skills.

Join My Rock Rescue Clinic

I’m running a Rock Rescue Clinic designed to teach you the exact skills that would have prevented this rescue. If you want to climb with more confidence and self-sufficiency, this is for you.

📅 Limited spots available. DM me or click below to sign up.

North face of El Toro, Land Of The Free

(lines left to right) Land of the Free, Priseneros de Ceilo, La Sombra de Muerte

This series will share my thoughts on some memorable places in the vertical realm, as well as some teachable notes from my lived moments.

During the winter of 2024/25, I had the opportunity to explore El Potrero Chico—a mecca of bolted limestone walls. If you squint hard enough, the right formations almost feel alpine, rugged and raw. At least, that was my experience.

As I scanned the walls, searching for lines that sparked my climber’s instinct, one formation pulled me back—again and again. Five times in a single trip, I returned to the North Face of El Toro, an atmospheric arena that became my proving ground after a year sidelined by a knee injury. A year of crutches, painkillers, and watching others climb. Now, I was here. Back on the sharp end.

My first foray onto the wall was on Christmas Day, and it couldn’t have been a better gift—a quiet, 20°C afternoon spent playing in the shadow of El Toro. The route was Land of the Free, a full-value day of 5.11 climbing, with 50 meters of sparsely bolted 5.10 sprinkled in for a little added excitement. More than anything, it was a return to what I love: engaging climbing. The kind where every move matters and falling into an autopilot mindset can have potentially costly consequences. 

Adding to the adventure, a handful of bolts had begun rusting away from their USSR-stamped hangers, an eerie reminder of the route’s age. Unlike the highly trafficked Sendero Luminoso, this wall felt neglected, overgrown—as if we were the first to climb it in some time. Loose soil, tufts of grass, and small plants clung to the cracks. Every foot placement threatened to liberate more debris than I wanted to think about. My belayer, Kendall, was soon covered in a fine dusting of limestone silt, while I spent most of the day with dirt in my eyes, and spines of prickly grasses and cacti laced through my clothing. 

But as we pushed higher, the character of the climbing shifted. The rock grew cleaner, the holds more defined, and soon we were moving through stunning sequences on a rising grey and orange headwall. By the time we reached the 5.11+ crux pitch, I was buzzing—fully immersed in the kind of climbing that makes me feel small in the best way possible.

Then, suddenly—SNAP.

The hold broke. My body ejected into space, plummeting. For a split second, I was weightless, then the rope came tight. My belayer, caught off guard, was yanked upward into the belay.

I hung there for a moment, heart pounding, hold still in my hand, before checking in with Kendall. “You good?” “Yeah. You?” “Yeah.”

With the laughter of relief, I pulled back on and gave it another go—but the section felt exponentially harder after the fall. Still, this was the kind of climbing I live for. Trying hard, high off the ground, feeling like a small speck on a vast expanse of rock. All the while tied to good company in ridiculously exposed settings. 

The upper pitches continued to deliver—an aesthetic dihedral, a comfortable belay on a pillar, then fun, vertical crimping up a white streak of stone. But as I reached the stance below the final 5.12 roof, I knew.

I was spent. The effort to Haul the rope this far had taken its toll. My forearms were cramping, my toes screaming inside my shoes. Kendall and I locked eyes, unspoken understanding passing between us. The wall wins today. And that was okay. It was more about finding a fun and engaging arena to connect with an activity and a space that resonates with both of us. Enjoying the controlled chaos of the day was more than enough for me that day, and the longer I spend in these places the more I cherish the journey going up and focus less on arriving at the summit. 

We rapped down, swapping rock for tacos and beer, exhaustion settling into our bones. The climb had been an absolute gem—atmospheric, engaging, just the right amount of adventure. And best of all, it was just the beginning of a rewarding chapter with the North Face of El toro.

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

The Importance of Mentorship for Growth

How do we learn in the outdoors? A lot of us go through the school of hard knocks.. Having one epic and another until we either become resilient, or scared of our environment. This process is taxing, slow and at times can bring us into dangerous proximity of some very real hazards. If only there was a better way!

The smiles of topping out in a new zone, all while being confident you are on belay!

As climbers continue to flood the indoor climbing spaces, a group of them will also venture beyond those spaces into the outdoors where supervision, guidance, and instruction are all generally less available than the super social setting of the gym space. Leaving those users to navigate this new venture on their own. I was fortunate enough that early on I found someone who had a 10+ year collection of experiences in the outdoor spaces that could show me the ropes so to speak. With that opportunity, I was also capable of growing so much more and so much faster than if I was left to my own devices and just figuring it out with my peers. Sometimes mentors are there to help us with the little things like just showing us where the approach begins, while other times those same leaders can help you analyze the bigger picture risks that you were navigating on the day and help you expand your awareness so that you can become a long standing user of the outdoor spaces, free from the pitfalls of injury or epics.

The issue with peer led mentorship is that in some cases it can be an example of the blind leading the blind. It is typical to have a friend who is so excited by this new adventure of the outdoors that they will doing anything possible to pull their new friends into their new pursuit and on occasion position themselves to know more than they actually might. These instances may feel as if you’re being led down a positive path and gaining valuable instruction, but how do you know for sure? Mistakes happen, and you cannot know what you don’t yet know. Many folks in the outdoor space have stories of close calls from there formative years. Anyone who is teaching you, should be able to answer a series of why and why not questions on the topic at hand with some confidence. You should never be afraid of asking questions, and if you do have questions, seek out answers from qualified sources like ACMG Guides.

Outdoor Climbers vs Gymies (my representation of gym to crag)

How can one spot the difference, the short answer is we judge a book by its cover. It is a hard truth that holds up surprisingly well. One may look organized and prepared for a multitude of scenarios in an almost unconscious type of way. While the other almost undoubtedly has a collection of never used items strapped to the outside of their pack. The climber who has spent the last 4 summers slogging to the crag vs the climber who just fired that blue problem in the cave probably have a different view of the word approach. while a majority of the former still have a certain distain for that cursed word. Make no mistake, we are both a unique dimension of the same vertical calling.

I personally found my start amongst the gym crowd, atleast for a brief period before being thrown into the wild world of Rock climbing. Along that Journey I have spent years observing different climbing areas over the course of a season and sometimes multiple seasons. All the while I have been meeting folks, making observations and being somewhat interactive at the crag. Along that path I have noticed a few tell tale signs that differentiate us from our indoor cousins, as well as some of the more subtle quirks that separate us. After all we were all green once, and as our experience grows, so too does our appetite for refining how we operate out in the wilderness or in our plastic playground.

Belay Tags

once a point of pride and stoke, we collected them from various gyms and touted them like trophies. Eventually you will see them for what they really are, plastic clutter that can actually scream the exact opposite of what it was intended for. I have never asked for a belay and then scanned their harness to see if they were “certified” in fact seeing that tag may actually give ammunition to the thought that they are about to get short roped as they make the crux clip. The point being, when we are outside our actions will speak for us, being confident with your gri gri is worth 100x more than that little fluorescent tag dangling off the back of your harness. Take the tag off and stack it next to the countless other cards you refuse to carry in everyday life since you only carry your phone with Apple Pay these days anyway.

TLDR

Ditch em, and allow your skills to speak for themselves.

Packs

Have one, preferably one that fits your days needs inside of it rather than strapped to the outside of it. As you transition to the outdoor realm of rock climbing you will notice things are a lot further than that short approach of parking lot to the front door. There will be a lot more opportunities to get lost and get stuck bashing through trees too, so ask yourself if you would rather have a mesh of dynema and nylon being caught in those branches or just slip right through them with your sleek cragging backpack. The fact is you will get lost on the approach, it has happened to all of us, we all think that goat trail is the actual trail until proven otherwise.

You can ditch the pack at the closest intersection to the descent trail. If you are rappelling then the base of the wall is a good option and signals to others that a party overhead exists and to proceed with caution.

TLDR

Get one, and fill the insides before even thinking about strapping stuff to the outside.

Toes

They want to touch grass, and who can blame them. the outdoors is such a nice place and you should be stoked that you escaped your hamster wheel of the chalk eater ventilation systems for some blue sky, maybe sunshine, or potentially even the random rain squall. I cannot understate how nice it is to have happy feet; and part of that is having shoes that allow for that. When belaying in the gym the ground is smooth and flat, usually even padded, barefeet or sandals is the norm. Outside on the other hand is typically a combination of uneven, slick, muddy or even sharp. I have personally payed the price of being overconfident with sandals and kicked the wall or even stubbed it on tree roots and had to call the climbing day short because my busted toe wont go in my climbing shoe anymore. SO, bring a closed toe shoe, if it has sticky rubber thats a plus, and just be thankful that the next time your foot slips or you trip over a branch in the woods, that it didn’t have any other consequence besides losing your balance for a moment. The trail isn’t always going to be a sidewalk and when the going gets vertical your are going to be relieved that you have a shoe that stays on your foot rather than a flip flop that finally blows a strap and now you are playing hopscotch on your way home.

TLDR

shoes, you want them… trust me. and they are called tennies now.

Clean Harness

A clean harness is a safe harness, and better yet is a fast harness. Once again, we can learn from the pros that have been doing it longer than you and I. If we look at Tommy and Alex, why do we never see 10 meters of cord bundled on their harness, a belay tag and a dozen extra carabiners. The fact of the matter is that climbing with a clean harness keeps you lighter and puts the priortity back on the climbing and not lugging about extra gear that has no application in the next rope length of climbing. Climbing light, is like catching a wave in the most stunning vertical landscapes. Now catch that same wave with 10 extra pounds of gear and your buddies water bottle in your backpack, it just isn’t the same experience. Having a clean harness thats well organized means that you’ve thought out what needs to be there and why. Having an extra of everything and 10 extras of somethings is just overkill. You should meet each day as a learning opportunity of playing lowest common denominator of whats on your harness and why. Your harness is not a trophy of the climbing gear that you’ve acquired so far. Soon you will refine a setup that works for when you are single pitch cragging and another setup on your harness for when you are going out on a multipitch excursion. Remember you don’t need 4 belay devices between you and your partner if you can only ever operate one each.

TLDR

look at a pros harness and ask, why don’t they have all the same things as your harness? A light harness makes for a happy climber.

RISK

The quintessential difference between outdoor and indoor climbing is that one has been developed with safety in mind, while the other leaves safety to the interpretation of the user. Indoors we have clean falls, no overhead hazard, and everything is conveniently spaced from one another to keep things neat and tidy.

When we step outside there is no custodian making sure that the route is clean of debris between uses. Nobody to make sure that jug mid route ins’t going to rip on you, and definitely no one to tell you that decking is a consequence of blowing the clip at the third bolt on that route you have been eyeing up. It is your responsibility to become aware of these details and come up with appropriate strategies to navigate them for you and your climbing partner on that day. As it is with climbing, this can be done a multitude of ways that have there own measure of risk involved.

THE MOST DANGEROUS RISK IS THE ONE THAT YOU FAIL TO IDENTIFY. The world is yours to navigate, and it will benefit you to separate this navigation from your ego.

If you need insights on how to get past some of these hazards or help identifying exactly what hazards are at play, get in touch. Professional instruction is a proven way to expedite your learning outdoors, and help you form healthy habits.

Guided Mentorship: Building to the Split Pillar

It all begins with an idea. Maybe a poster on a wall, or an article in a climbing mag, or a friends photos from a recent climbing trip. You see a photo of an epic mountain, wall, boulder, route, or linkup; and think DAAAAM I wish I could do that. Or maybe its the causal, “One day i’ll do that…” WELL! as the saying goes, if you fail to plan, you plan to fail.

So when I was wrapping up a day with a guest after a full afternoon on the malamute, He asked where do we go from here if I want to continue? As with many venues in Squamish you could spin a bottle and be pointing towards countless good suggestions of landmark routes in the sea to sky corridor. So with a little further discussion of what appealed to James, and what kind of challenge he wanted to set out on, we started to fill in the blanks of what would become his summer rock climbing goal. To climb the split pillar on the Grand Wall of the Stawamus Chief.

A little background of James first: James and I met when he decided to take his next step in his climbing journey and learn to trad climb. He has a strong appetite for wanting not only to learn the technical systems but to practice and refine them. He also takes to movement coaching really well, and what is key here is that he was always eager to learn rather than be hyperfocused on the outcome. This attitude of perfecting the 1000 steps rather than searching for a silver bullet that will unlock a zero to hero growth was such an asset for his outcomes and his satisfaction as we strived for his summer goals.

So as the summer progressed James and I would meet once a week to discuss how he felt his climbing was coming, to drill the fundementals and to take 1 step each week that would feed into our following session so that by the end of 8 weeks not only would we climb the split pillar, but he would have a satisftying core experience as he climbed the most iconic pitch of 5.10 on the chief. Only 8 weeks after learning how to place gear, jam cracks, and layback when you can’t jam anymore.

Getting to climb the Split Pillar is hardly the definitive goal in this experience. For me the critical part of this experience is to instill the fundamentals of what can be evolved into that of a proffecient and wise climber capable of leading themselves into any experience they desire, and being wise enough to know when to slow down and re-evaluate. Along the way James and I covered topics like, advanced anchor building, escaping the belay, reversing the ATC Guide in emergency situations, Crack climbing techniques, Mental strategies, route selection, along with other countless tips the come with the territory of navigating some of Squamish’s most classic routes.

If having experiences like this resonates with you, get in touch through our contact us page or our social media and start working with a guide today so that you can unlock your full potential and start crossing objectives off that tick list!