2024 Tuolumne Accident 圖瓦勒米的一場攀岩意外

起攀前的合影。Photo before the climb. Tuolumne, Cathedral Peak, 2024 / 09 / 13

本文由當事人於意外發生後隔年 2025 / 09 /14 發表。 This article was published by the individual involved on 09 / 14 / 2025, the year following the accident.

對我來說，人生大部分的事情過去就過去了，無須留戀執著。但這件事情似乎需要去回溯，除了因為它在我的生命撞出隕石般的巨洞，它的特殊性，也值得被分享，留給他人作為借鏡。

以下過程並非正式事故報告，純粹是個人切身經歷的紀錄，並與其他相關人比對過細節的正確性，畢竟記憶有時會自動填補上錯誤的訊息，更何況我是個從腦傷康復的生存者。

一年前的今天，美國西部時間 13 號星期五，不知道為何 13 這個數字組合一再重複出現在我的人生軌道中。我與我的繩伴在美國進行規劃多年的攀岩計畫，抵達美國已接近兩週，在北加州三處天然岩場已攀爬超過一週。我們最新的營地座落在優勝美地國家公園的東門外，海拔超過三千米，雖然才九月初，前晚溫度掉至零下，一早醒來在帳篷外倒水的表面瞬間結冰，呼吸吐納間只見霧氣繚繞。只要手指不凍僵，乾冷對攀岩者是夢寐以求的環境狀態，低溫與摩擦力會讓整個攀爬過程更加輕鬆愉快。

For me, most things in life, once they pass, are gone, with no need for attachment or regret. But this incident seems to require a review. Not only because it struck my life like a meteor, leaving a massive crater, but also because its uniqueness is worth sharing—for others to take as a lesson.

What follows is not an formal accident report, but a record of my personal lived experience, cross-checked with others involved for accuracy. After all, memory sometimes fills in gaps with false details—let alone for someone like me, a survivor recovering from a brain injury.

One year ago today, on Friday the 13th, U.S. West Coast time. Somehow, the number 13 keeps repeating itself in my life trajectory. My climbing partner and I had been in the U.S. for almost two weeks, carrying out a long-planned climbing trip. We had already spent more than a week climbing at three different crags in Northern California. Our newest campsite was just outside Yosemite National Park’s eastern entrance, over 3,000 meters in elevation. Though it was only early September, the temperature had plummeted to below zero the night before. When I poured water outside the tent that morning, it froze instantly on the surface. Our breath hung in clouds in the icy air. As long as fingers don’t freeze stiff, this kind of dry cold is a dream for climbers—low temperatures and friction make climbing easier and more enjoyable.

簡單料理早餐後，將食物、垃圾和廚具收到防熊箱內，整裝出發，先開車進園區內少數有手機訊號的地方，除了收發訊息和查詢天氣，最重要的是每天銜接臺灣的時差，讓繩伴與臺灣的工作夥伴交代確認每天的工作進度。隨後我們繼續開車往森林裡去，找到安全留置汽車的路邊，下車後開始往岩牆移動時大約早上 10 點。

這天我們前往的區域叫 Tuolumne，位於整個優勝美地園區的東北方，是海拔較高、偏冷又最早下雪的區域。我們的目標 – Cathedral Peak 是它最經典的五顆星路線，標準路線難度 5.6，根據書中指南，從路邊停車走山路接近岩牆要走一個半小時。因為人生地不熟，我們邊找路邊走了快 3 小時，路途上被白人用雙杖飆速超車，還遇到一大群中老年男女程度不均的韓國人，寒暄了幾句，得知他們的目標跟我們一樣，就暗自決定要趕在這群會塞車的隊伍之前抵達。多了一點找路的急迫性，我們在接近山壁時努力朝碎石坡上方邁進，對照書中的圖像抵達我們所認為的起攀點，事後證明是錯誤的位置，但當時現場沒有任何人可以詢問確認。Cathedral Peak 有 5 個繩距，加上撤退的時間，代表會消耗一整天，垂降的位置不會回到起攀點，因此所有的裝備都要帶上牆。分配好兩人的裝備，簡單立個腳架拍張合照留念，下午 1 點左右我開始先鋒，攀爬第一段繩距。

After a simple breakfast, we packed away food, trash, and cookware into the bear-proof box, geared up, and drove into the park to one of the few areas with cell service. Besides checking messages and the weather, the main reason was syncing with Taiwan’s time difference so my climbing partner could check daily work progress to his work crew back home. Then we drove deeper into the forest, left the car safely by the roadside, around 10 a.m. we started moving toward the crag.

That day we were headed to the Tuolumne, located in the northeast of Yosemite National Park. It is an area with a higher altitude, relatively cold, and first to snow. Our objective was Cathedral Peak and its most classic five-star route, and the difficulty is rated 5.6. According to the guidebook, the approach from roadside parking to the base takes about 1.5 hours. Unfamiliar with the area, we wandered nearly 3 hours. Along the way, we were briskly overtaken by white hikers with trekking poles and later crossed paths with a large Korean group of middle-aged climbers of varying ability. After a brief exchange, we learned they had the same destination, so we quietly resolved to get there before that potential traffic jam. With renewed urgency, we pushed up the talus slope, matching the guidebook’s topos to what we thought was the start (later we’d learn we were wrong, but at the time there was no one to ask). Cathedral Peak is 5 pitches, plus descend time, meaning a full-day effort. The rappel descends elsewhere, not back to the same base, so all gear must go on the wall. After dividing the load, we set up a tripod, took a commemorative photo, and around 1 p.m. I began leading the first pitch.

我先鋒了一段距離，岩質不穩。I led for a while, and the rock was unstable.

出發沒多久，邊爬心中開始冒出一點怪怪的感覺，岩質不穩，邊爬岩壁會邊碎裂的那種，雖然路跡不一定會留下前人摸過的碳酸鎂粉，但也不像是條熱門路線，應該要有碎石植披已被清理乾淨的狀態。因為難度體感超過 5.6，我在三層樓的高度低頭跟繩伴抱怨幾句，但抬頭看得到 8 到 10 樓的高度處，有綁在樹上的繩環 anchor，就暫時放棄撤退的念頭再努力拚看看。

又上升四、五米後，遇到一個稍稍外傾的小懸岩處卡關，在不規則又外開的直裂隙中，我試了兩次放進不同大小的主動式岩械都放不好，第三次放了一顆被動式岩械中號的 nut，加一條沒放長的扁帶，喊「take」收繩後坐下來，nut 有點不情願地抖了一下然後停住，暫且可以坐在繩上喘口氣休息。在空中我認真觀察岩壁，思索接下來的手腳動作，判斷可以利用一點人工的借力站起來後翻上去，只是站起來後，我看到也聽到眼前裂隙崩裂的瞬間，nut 噴出後我開始向下墜落。

墜落其實是攀岩的一部份，在室內的進階課程裡，教練也經常會引導學生練習安全的 fall，重點不外乎正確的姿勢、不被繩絆到、不撞擊岩壁和墜落的距離。為了翻過外傾的岩面，此時墜落的上半身已向後倒是危險的，多年的經驗讓我腹部本能出力翻正，在空中我已看得到下方，卻再次聽到也看到岩壁崩裂的瞬間「啪」一聲噴出小碎石，下一顆的保護支點是 # 0.4 的 cam，也跟著噴飛。

Not long after we set out, a strange feeling started creeping up on me as I climbed – the rock felt unstable, the kind that crumbles while you’re still on it. Although there weren’t always clear traces of chalk left by previous climbers, it didn’t feel like a popular route either. A well-traveled path should have had the loose gravel and vegetation cleared away. The difficulty felt above a 5.6, and at about three stories up, I looked down and complained to my belayer. But when I looked up, I spotted an anchor tied around a tree about eight to ten stories high. That gave me the motivation to push on instead of bail off.

After climbing another four or five meters, I hit a small overhanging section and got stuck. In the irregular, outward-flaring vertical crack, I tried twice to place different sizes of cams, but neither felt secure. On the third attempt, I slotted in a medium size nut with an unextended alpine-draw, called out “Take!” and sat back on the rope. The nut trembled reluctantly, then held. It was enough for me to rest and catch my breath. Suspended in midair, I carefully studied the wall, planned my next moves, and figured I could use a bit of aid to stand up and climb over it. But as soon as I stood up, I both saw and heard the crack split open – the nut popped out, and I started falling.

Falling is part of climbing. In advanced indoor courses, instructors often have students practice safe falls—focusing on proper posture, avoiding rope entanglement, keeping off the wall, and controlling fall distance. But since I had leaned back to get over the overhang, this fall position was dangerous. Years of experience kicked in, and I instinctively tightened my core to right myself midair. I could already see the ground below when I once again heard and saw the rock face crumble – another sharp “crack” as small fragments shot out. The next piece of protection, a # 0.4 cam ripped out with it.

接下來分隔線之間的內容，我個人的體驗跟我的繩伴有所出入，包含時間的流逝，他所目睹的跟我的雖然同時存在，但現實的經歷卻截然不同。

第二顆 cam 噴飛的前後瞬間，我的身體居然少了每回墜落會有的體感，雖然視線朝著前下方，但此時我卻停留在空中，背後伸出四米長白灰色的大翅膀。我不確定這對翅膀是來自我的背，還是身後有翅膀的誰把我托出，總之我停留在空中。緊接著是屁股感受到平穩的地面，我閉著眼低著頭坐在地上，心中慶幸自己居然安然無恙，整個墜落到異象再到地的過程，對我來說只發生了兩三秒。

從繩伴的觀點，第一顆保護支點噴飛後，我只是墜落，但第二顆也噴掉後，我的頭就撞到牆。失去意識後頭下腳上，鮮血從頭骨直直流下，牆壁和裝備都沾上血跡，墜落總距離約 6 米。怎麼喊叫都得不到回應，繩伴慢慢鬆繩想把我降到地面，快到地時我的身體卻被地形卡住，他想辦法往上爬，直到抓得到我的手，再邊放繩邊把我向下拉。到地面時他把仍舊失去意識的我翻正，為了檢查傷勢解開我的岩盔，看到已經翻下來的頭皮露出白色的頭骨，將皮翻回去後他用手加壓，邊呼喊我的名字，整個過程有五六分鐘。

Between the lines that follow, my personal experience began to differ from my belay partner’s — including how time passed. What he witnessed and what I experienced seemed to happen simultaneously, yet our realities were completely different.

At the moment when the second piece (# 0.4 cam) popped out, I somehow lost all physical sensation of falling – that familiar feeling that always comes with a drop. Though my gaze was fixed downward, I found myself suspended in midair, with a pair of large, four-meter-long wings of white and gray stretching out behind me. I couldn’t tell whether those wings had grown from my own back, or if someone/something with wings was holding me up. But either way, I was hovering. The next thing I knew was I could feel solid ground beneath me. Sitting with my eyes closed and head bowed, I realized, to my amazement, that I was completely unharmed. The entire sequence – from the fall, to the strange vision, to landing on the ground – lasted only two or three seconds from my perspective.

From my belayer’s point of view, after the first pro popped, I began to fall. But when the second piece ripped out, my head struck the wall. I lost consciousness, flipping upside down as blood streamed straight from my scalp down my face, staining the wall and my gear. The total fall distance was about six meters. And no matter how much he shouted, I didn’t respond. He slowly paid out rope to lower me, but as I neared the ground, my body got caught on the terrain. He climbed up toward me until he could grab my hand, then alternated between releasing rope and pulling me down. Once I was finally on the ground, he turned my unconscious body face up, removed my helmet to check the injury, and saw that a flap of scalp had peeled back, exposing the white of my skull. He pressed it back into place and applied pressure with his hand, calling my name over and over. The whole ordeal lasted five or six minutes.

我耳邊傳來繩伴急切的叫喚聲，聽起來就像哪裡有失火；「幹嘛啦又沒事」，我的第一個反應是想罵人。但多年在國內外一起爬岩所培養出的友誼和默契，早就經歷過無數次的摩擦和溝通，我按耐住自己的急性子，吸了口氣回他「不要緊張」。也許是我終於恢復意識有所回應，他頓了一下，口氣仍然急切「你受傷了！很嚴重！我們現在要下撤！」

我愣了一秒，但沒有質疑他所說的真實性，平靜地回：「好，你不要緊張，先把我身上的裝備拿下來。」當下我心裡想著的，是不要讓我們的裝備再沾到血，因為有些是岩友慷慨出借給我們的。繩伴：「我要找東西幫你加壓止血！」我：「小背包上面有掛條汗巾。」他將手巾取代我右側頭上原本一坨捲筒衛生紙的位置，我的右眼腫脹睜不開，可以感受到偶爾滴下來的鮮血，頭很麻但不痛，我想應該就是皮肉傷吧？不知道自己已重傷，更不知道沒有痛感是因為頭部受到撞擊的當下神經已被撞斷。

在確認身體其他部位算完好，沒有骨折的狀態下，繩伴彎下腰告知他要割掉還綁在我身上的主繩，沒等到我的抗議割繩刀就在瞬間落下。平時我們都很珍惜自己的岩繩，它算是比較昂貴的必備器材，攀爬當下除非萬不得已不會輕易斷繩。既然割了就割了，剩下的主繩太重留在現場，牆壁上的岩械和扁帶勾環也只能放棄，繩伴將兩人剩下的裝備全塞進他 70 公升的拖拉包。

I heard my partner’s frantic shouting – sounds like there was a fire somewhere. “What the hell, I’m fine!” was my first instinctive reaction and ready to snap back. But the friendship and unspoken understanding we’d built through years of climbing together both in Taiwan and abroad, had already weathered countless moments of friction and communication. I held back my temper, took a breath and replied: “Don’t panic.” Maybe it was because I’d finally regained consciousness and responded, he paused for a brief moment, though his tone was still urgent: “You’re hurt! Badly! We have to retreat right now!”

I froze for a second, but didn’t doubt what he said. Calmly, I answered: “Okay don’t panic, take off my gear first.” What I was really thinking then was that I didn’t want our gear stained with blood – some of it had been generously loaned to us by friends. Then he said, “I need to find something to stop the bleeding!” I replied, “There’s a face towel hanging on top of my daypack.” He replaced the wad of toilet paper on the right side of my head with the towel. My right eye was so swollen I couldn’t open it; I could feel warm drops of blood occasionally falling down my face. My head was numb, but it didn’t hurt. I figured it was just a surface wound – unaware that I was seriously injured, and that the lack of pain was because the nerves had already been severed upon impact.

After confirming that the rest of my body was intact and there were no broken bones, my partner bent down and told me he was going to cut the rope still tied to my harness. Before I could protest, the knife flashed and the cut was made. Normally, we treasure our ropes – they’re expensive and essential gear. Unless absolutely necessary, no one ever cuts a rope during a climb. But what’s done is done. The remaining section of rope was too heavy to carry, so we left it behind along with the cams, slings, and quickdraws still on the wall. My partner stuffed all the remaining gear we could salvage into his 70L haul bag.

向下撤退的過程對我的繩伴來說十分艱辛。雖然我的腿沒事能自己走，但腦震盪使我頭暈目眩完全站不住，碎石坡的地形是走一步滑三步，要更加小心兩人才不會一起摔倒滾落。臨時找個樹枝當拐杖也不行，試過幾次方法，最穩當的還是我用右手壓著受傷部位，左手扶著他的右肩，一起慢慢往下走。這時候下午 2 點左右，我渾身發燙，總覺得太陽好大好熱，身體未曾體驗過如此深沉的疲憊感，雖然不至於想睡覺，但是每分每秒都很想關機。

走沒幾步我就開口央求：「我很累，想休息。」繩伴指著前面的樹蔭鼓勵我再向前多走幾步：「我們走到樹下再讓你坐下來。」我抬頭勉強睜開左眼，雖然此時已無法判斷遠近，但那棵樹是看得到也似乎不遠的距離，坐在陰影下的想法很吸引人，於是我回了「好」就繼續隨他往前，但坐下休息後可能沒過多久，又會被攙扶起來，一路上走走停停，繩伴邊哄邊督促著撤退進度，同時也在留意能收到手機訊號的位置。

在第一個接收到訊號的路徑，繩伴用手機撥了 911，因為他的英文能力不足，接通後就直接遞給我。從 911 轉接到優勝美地國家公園的單位，我用力搜尋記憶裡的相關資訊，包含意外的發生、受傷的狀況和我們可能所在的位置，同時注意到自己在陳述時有大舌頭，口齒混沌像個酒醉的人。訊號不穩斷掉後，我們又繼續前進，到了下個有訊號的地方，繩伴用網路電話連絡到幾天前我們在北部 Lover’s Leap 一起攀岩且定居在加州的臺灣友人，原本說好幾天後她和男友會開車與我們會合摸路線。她在得知我們的狀況後立刻幫忙聯繫求救，確認搜救隊已在出發的路上。據繩伴的紀錄，我們下撤約 2 個多小時才終於遇到人，我的腳雖然有在移動，意識卻時而清醒時而模糊，對周遭事物有感知、能回應但無法做更多，在意識待機的狀態下，他的 2 小時是我的 20 分鐘。

The descent was grueling for my partner. Though my legs were uninjured and capable of walking, the concussion left me dizzy and unable to stand steadily. The scree-covered slope was treacherous – one step forward often meant sliding three steps back – and we had to move with extreme care to avoid tumbling down together. Using a branch as a makeshift cane didn’t work; after several failed attempts, we found the safest way for me was to press my right hand against my wounded head while my left hand rested on his shoulder, and we inched our way downward, one cautious step at a time. It was around 2 p.m. by then, my whole body felt feverish, the sunlight unbearably hot. I’d never experienced such deep, bone-level exhaustion – not quite sleepy, but as if every cell in my body wanted to shut down.

After only a few steps, I pleaded: “I’m so tired, I need to rest.” Then he pointed toward a patch of shade ahead and urged me on: “Let’s get to that tree, then you can sit down.” I forced my left eye open, barely able to judge distance anymore, but I could still make out the tree – close enough to feel possible. The thought of sitting in its shadow was too tempting, so I nodded and said, “Okay,” pushing forward with him. But every short break ended the same way – after a brief rest, he’d help me back to my feet. We moved in slow, halting intervals. He coaxed and encouraged me while watching constantly for a spot where he might get cell reception.

At the first place his phone picked up a signal, he dialed 911. His English wasn’t good, so once the call went through, he handed the phone to me. The dispatcher transferred us to Yosemite National Park’s emergency line. I tried to piece together every detail I could recall – how the accident happened, the extent of my injuries, where we might be – but I noticed my speech was slurred, my tongue heavy, my words tumbling out like I was drunk. The call dropped due to poor reception, and we kept moving. At the next place with a weak signal, my partner managed to reach our Taiwanese friend. Just a few days earlier, we’d climbed together at Lover’s Leap in Northern California, she and her boyfriend were supposed to meet us in a few days to scout routes. Hearing about the accident, she immediately contacted the authorities and confirmed that a rescue team was already on its way. According to my partner’s record, we descended for more than two hours before finally encountering other people. My legs were still moving, but my consciousness flickered – lucid one moment, hazy the next. I could perceive and respond, but nothing more. While his descent took two hours, in my suspended state of awareness, it felt like only twenty minutes.

繩伴遠遠先看到一個人，於是他讓我坐下後衝過去喊救命：「Help！」雖然連抬頭的力氣都沒有，但我心想著：「喔很不錯喔」，我們在出發的飛機上曾練習過，這連我也聽得懂。他接著又說：「My friend needs help！」哇塞！是完整的句子加上正確的文法，真的很想拍手叫好。就這樣，我們得到 3 個中年白人登山客的幫助，其中一位還是個醫生，他用自備的衛星電話先打給急診科的同事諮詢，同時醫師娘護理師掏出牙線，綑綁我頭上用手按壓的止汗巾。稍稍討論後，我們一行 5 人往馬路的方向前進，以我的腳程可能要再走幾個小時，還好沒多久就遇到搜救隊的第一個隊員。

這個白人，完全看不出來是搜救人員，沒有制服，沒有吊牌，沒有徽章，身穿灰色的棉帽 T 蓋著鴨舌帽，戴著太陽眼鏡，唯一露出來的下半邊臉都是鬍子，低調又隨性。他將繡著急救十字符號的後背包扔在地上，讓我坐在樹下的大石頭上，簡單評估傷勢後他撇頭對肩膀上的對講機，直接下達派遣直昇機的指令。將急救背包打開後，他說：「我要幫你打一針，但這針得打在大腿，你要脫褲子。」沒聽清楚他說是什麼針，但我也沒力氣多問，就緩緩站起來解開褲子，沒感覺到針扎，只看到他打完後把針頭順勢扔在地上。

接著他掏出一塊寫字板，夾著一張表格，開始詢問我的基本資料，我傾身想看看有哪些內容，結果一滴血就落在紙上，於是我立刻往後退：「Sorry！」他說聲沒事，用戴著醫療手套的手抹掉血滴。本來想從我的全名說起，但一陣疲憊感卻又襲來，於是轉頭請繩伴幫我拿出護照，灰衣天使回：「Perfect」，便手持護照低頭對照書寫。登山客醫生留下他的聯絡電話，並力邀我們若是被送到臨近的醫院，出院後可以暫居在他附近的家中休養，除了感激萬分之外，心想這一路上我遇到的天使還真不少。

My partner spotted someone in the distance, so he told me to sit down, rushed over and shouting: "Help!" Even though I didn't have the strength to lift my head, I thought to myself, "Oh, that's pretty good." We had practiced this on the plane when we set off, and even I understood it. He then added, "My friend needs help!" Wow! It was a complete sentence with correct grammar; I really wanted to applaud. Just like that, we got help from three middle-aged white hikers, one of whom was a doctor. He used his satellite phone to call his emergency room colleague for advice, while the doctor's wife, a nurse, pulled out dental floss to tie up the face towel I was pressing against my head. After a brief discussion, the five of us headed towards the road. At my pace, it would have taken several more hours, but luckily, we soon encountered the first member of the search and rescue team.

This white man didn't look like a SAR guy at all. He had no uniform, no ID tag, no badge. He was wearing a gray hoodie covering a baseball cap, sunglasses, and the only visible part of his lower face was covered in a beard – understated and casual. He threw his backpack, with a sew-on first aid cross patch, onto the ground and had me sit on a large rock under a tree. After a quick assessment of my injuries, he turned his head to the walkie-talkie on his shoulder and immediately ordered a helicopter dispatch. Opening his first aid kit, he said, "I need to give you an injection, but it has to be in your thigh, so you'll need to take off your pants." I didn't quite hear what kind of injection it was, but I didn't have the energy to ask more questions, so I slowly stood up and unzipped my pants. I didn't feel the needle prick, only saw him toss the needle after he was done.

Then he pulled out a clipboard with a form attached and started asking for my basic information. I leaned forward to see what was on it, and a drop of blood fell onto the paper, so I immediately recoiled: "Sorry!" He said it was fine and wiped away the blood with his gloved hand. I initially wanted to start with my full name, but a wave of exhaustion washed over me again, so I turned to ask my partner to get my passport. The gray-clad angel replied, "Perfect," and held my passport, looking down to write. The hiker doctor left his contact information and warmly invited us to stay at his nearby home to recuperate if we were taken to a hospital nearby after discharge. Besides being incredibly grateful, I thought about how many angels I had met on this journey.

左圖：我左邊腳下是原本用來加壓止血的黃色汗巾，右手邊是我的灰天使。 繩伴看我喊冷，拿他的羽絨外套披在我的肩上，回臺灣送洗的時候沾滿乾掉的血跡嚇到乾洗店老闆。 Left image: To my left, at my feet, is the yellow face towel originally used to apply pressure and stop the bleeding. To my right is my gray-clad angel. My partner saw me shivering from the cold and draped his down jacket over my shoulders. When I sent it for dry cleaning back in Taiwan, the dried bloodstains shocked the dry cleaner owner.

右圖：雖然看起來很慘，但我很慶幸自己終於可以躺平。 在之後被轉運的救護車內，全身上下除了內褲，包含吊帶和我捨不得穿的 E9 攀岩褲全被剪開，胸口貼上心電圖貼片。 Right image: Although I looked terrible, I was so relieved to finally be able to lie flat. Later, in the ambulance during transfer, everything on me except my underwear – including my climbing harness and the E9 climbing pants I cherished – was cut open, and ECG electrodes were placed directly on my chest.

其他的搜救小隊陸續抵達，一致穿著亮眼的黃 T ，還帶了一個巨大的車輪胎，看來是尚未確認會如何將我搬運出去先準備的。直昇機抵達前，我被要求穿回原本已脫掉的攀岩吊帶，可以用來協助固定住身體，然後被安置在急救長背板加開放式的籃式擔架上。因為脖子很痛，被搜救人員用頸圈固定住，全身五花大綁，我最愛的藍色排汗長袖被剪到肩膀，手上被被插入靜脈注射管。

動彈不得又即將被帶走，得知是用吊掛的方式後，心想那我的繩伴怎麼辦？不知道他在哪，也顧不得嚇到旁人，就放聲大喊他的綽號，繩伴出現後握住我的手，我想如果這是此生最後的對話，我無論如何都要讓他知道「我很抱歉。」因為我已毀掉這次規劃許久，在攀岩聖地爬大牆的計畫，也是我們多年來共築的夢想。他說：「沒什麼好抱歉的，到醫院再跟我說你被送到哪，我開車去找你。」我回了「好」，但心中充滿歉意，必須留下人生地不熟、語言又不通的他隻身離去。

直昇機垂降下來兩名救難人員 – 按照繩伴的說法是華麗登場，我眼前蹦出其中一個戴著安全帽與風鏡，兩側綁著漂亮麻花辮的金髮正妹，「妳好！我是某某某，在直昇機運送的過程中，我會負責妳的安全。」執勤時，美國人都會先簡單自我介紹，在醫院裡所有來去的醫護人員也是如此，只可惜我向來記不住人名。下午 5 點多，兩個執勤人員在我的背板一側，3 人一起被直昇機平穩吊掛至空中。望向直昇機的底部，有點新奇但更多是平靜的心情，努力了這麼久，我終於可以躺平，闔上眼休息，把命運全然交到別人手中。

Other search and rescue teams arrived, all wearing bright yellow T-shirts, and even brought a huge car tire, seemingly prepared in case they hadn't yet confirmed how to transport me out. Before the helicopter arrived, I was asked to put my climbing harness back on, which I had previously taken off, to help secure my body. Then I was placed on a backboard inside an basket stretcher. Because my neck was hurting badly, the rescue personnel secured it with a cervical collar, and my entire body was tightly bound. My favorite blue long-sleeved wicking shirt was cut to the shoulders, and an IV was inserted into my arm.

Unable to move and about to be taken away, and learning that I would be airlifted, I wondered, "What about my climbing partner?" Not knowing where he was, and not caring if I startled anyone, I shouted his nickname. My partner appeared and held my hand. I thought if this was our last conversation, I absolutely had to let him know, "I'm so sorry." Because I had ruined our long-planned trip to climb big walls at a climbing mecca, a dream we had built together for many years. He said, "There's nothing to be sorry about. Just tell me which hospital you're taken to when you get there, and I'll drive to find you." I replied, "Okay," but my heart was full of apology, having to leave him alone in a strange place with a language barrier.

Two rescue personnel descended from the helicopter – a "grand arrival," as my partner described it. Before my eyes popped out a blonde adorable woman with a helmet and goggles, and pretty braided pigtails on both sides. "Hi! I'm so-and-so, and I'll be responsible for your safety during the helicopter transport." Americans always introduce themselves briefly when on duty, and it was the same with all the medical staff coming and going at the hospital. Unfortunately, I've never been good at remembering names. Around 5 p.m., with the two duty officers on one side of my backboard, the three of us were smoothly hoisted into the air by the helicopter. Looking towards the bottom of the helicopter, it was somewhat novel but more so a feeling of peace. After trying so hard for so long, I could finally lie flat, close my eyes and rest, completely entrusting my fate to others.

"Oh Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore." 謝謝我的繩伴記得拍照錄影，紀錄到這些重要的瞬間，珍貴的畫面。 Thanks to my partner remembered to take photos and videos, capturing these important and precious moments.

– 未完待續 / To be continued–