David T. Connolly

Colon Cancer Survivor Since August 2006 (stage IV)

Welcome!

Updated: November 16, 2008

Another Glorious Failure

A personal record was set November 8 when I setup a bivy in the Agnes Vaille Memorial Hut at 13,150FT at the Keyhole on Longs Peak.

A short video of the Agnes Vaille Memorial Hut and the Keyhole shrouded in an icy fog.

Below is a short video inside the Agnes Vaille Memorial Hut.

Below is a picture of my kitchen in the hut.

Below is the view of the Keyhole looking up from the door of the Agnes Vaille Memorial Hut on Sunday morning.

Or the 768 X 1024 desktop size version.

The ride is done!

The ride started a little north of Ft. Worth, Texas Sunday October 26, 2008 at 1:06PM. Mr. Frank Tillery and I began the trip on the trail that runs along the banks of the Trinity River.

That first day we rode to Cleburne, Texas where we checked into a motel and washed off the dirt. We covered 55 miles that first day. The next morning we biked across town to visit Wal-Mart where I stocked up on inner tubes. I only had two flats during the trip but it was comforting to know I had spares. The bike was rock solid and gave me no trouble.

Frank headed north Monday morning into a strong head wind. I headed south and reached Hillsboro late in the afternoon. The ride ended in Georgetown, Texas on Thursday 7:00PM Oct. 30, 2008. I estimate I covered around 200 - 225 miles.

Wheeler Peak Summited Oct 8, 2008 9:30pm

3:30 pm Oct. 5, 2008

We're loaded and ready to go to Taos, New Mexico/Wheeler Peak. Departure Monday morning for 10 fun filled days at high altitude in the mountains. I finally finished the tale of my overnight on the mountainside back in May. It was one of the easiest of my projects to ignore. I hope you enjoy reading it.

The story behind my trouble in Colorado

One Bad Decision.
By
David T. Connolly

I wanted to get a better view of the terrain below the ridge I was walking along so I stepped forward closer to the edge. I felt the snow beneath my feet give way, pitching me out over the drop in front of me. I tumbled down into the powdery snow; snow as fine as sugar, down into the huge drifts.
The day had gone very well for me. At 2AM I'd left the tent I had pitched at the campground near the trail head and started up East Longs Peak Trail. It was exciting hiking in the darkness all alone surrounded by the deep and silent forest. The trail starts out a little steep, then around the one-mile mark it levels out nicely and there's a turn-off to the right that takes you towards Estes Cone and elsewhere. My twin headlamps lit up the trail, one was super bright and could go through three AA batteries in a few hours. The other headlamp was the LED type and although not nearly as bright, the batteries last much longer. I had the xenon lamp shining well up the trail ahead of me and the LED light brightened the trail right before me. With both lamps together I was a walking lighthouse. There was still feet of snow on most of the trail and at times it was slow going. Dawn began to break as I reached tree line. The blue sky had a long band of clouds to the southwest running across it towards the northeast. The majority of the afternoon they never seemed to move so much as an inch. I stopped and tried to mark the spot where I broke through tree line on my GPS but it was having none of that. The GPS did not like traveling and it was looking for the satellites it usually could see from Austin, Texas. I grew tired of wasting time standing there so I took a bearing on the Twin Sisters mountain with my compass then began heading towards Chasm junction, crossing snow fields, then rocks, and back to snow again. Sometimes if I got too close to a bush or a large rock the snow, which had melted away due to heat being absorbed by the bush or rock would start to collapse beneath me. If I was very fast I could leap forward to avoid sinking in up to my knees, which took a strong effort to extract my legs when it did happen. Also you can become trapped if you should fall into the hole that can develop around large trees.
Reaching Chasm Junction I stopped to catch my breath and enjoy the view. I could see Granite Pass which didn't look that far off but I knew it would take a couple of hours for me to get up there, which it did. The snow was soft and moving across it took patience. From Granite Pass I was able to look uphill towards the Boulder field. There were switchbacks in the trail headed up but they were mostly buried beneath the snow so I chose a path straight up. I crested the top of the switchbacks and got my first good look at the north face of Longs. Moving across the boulder field proved to be quite a challenge because I never knew if the snow between the boulders would support me or I'd plunge through up to my knee. I tried to stay on the rocks but it was difficult. I'd guess it took me two more hours before I was standing beneath the Keyhole. The sky had gone a cold, colorless gray and the wind seemed to be getting a sharper edge. I had not seen another soul the entire day and it was a little spooky standing there by myself looking up at that massive mountain. The view of the north face of Longs Peak was amazing. I could look up and see the summit and as I did dark clouds rolled over the mountain. I knew I should turn around then and there to head back down. I was exhausted and had I continued up without a rest I would very likely stumble. So I shot a little video, snapped a few pictures and turned around.
Heading back north across the boulder field, the way I'd came in, I thought, "Why should I walk all the way back downhill to Granite Pass, when I could just maintain my altitude and climb around the shoulder of Mt. Lady Washington to descend the east face? So that was just what I did and when I climbed over the boulders of the ridge and looked down the east face I was amazed at the steepness of what I would have to descend. I decided to down climb the ridge a bit so I could step out onto slightly less of an angle on the face. Climbing down the north ridge was a challenge in itself due to the huge rocks. I knew if I snagged a crampon and took a tumble I would take a beating so I really took my time to maintain stability as I worked my way down. Soon I thought I could safely climb out onto the east face. It was still steep enough to be truly exciting but I took my time and made it down with no problems. Then I continued east towards the point I thought I had broke tree line.
Reaching the ridge which ran north and south above the trees I saw nothing that looked familiar, so I figured I was too far south and if I followed the ridge north I'd intersect my trail coming up from the trees. And that was what I was doing when I fell.

Amongst The Drifts

But for my face I was buried in the snow. It offered little resistance as I kicked my feet in front of me bringing my legs up to the top of the snow much as I would I do if I were in water. After a moment I was sprawled on my back on top of the snow. I stopped to take stock of my situation. I knew I'd never be able to fight my way back up to the point I'd fallen from. The slope of the snow I was laying on was fairly steep and I figured I could "swim" downhill fairly easily. The trees were deep in the snow as well and I saw their high branches were within reach of the snow surface. I knew the unused part of the trail was down the hill somewhere under all that snow, but I felt the odds of me finding it or being able to follow it were slim. I reached in my shirt and brought out my compass, getting a bearing to the northeast and I started down. I was able to pull myself along by the branches at many points like a child moving across some monkey bars and I was able to avoid plunging down into the snow. Finally the snow grew so deep and the trees too far apart and I couldn't reach any branches and I was forced to bear more to the north. I could zigzag through the low places between the drifts, which made for slightly easier going. I slowly struggled intent on maintaining a steady movement. The effort of moving through the snow had my light shirt soaked with sweat and I was alarmed to glance at my watch and see if was almost seven o'clock. I'd fallen around five so that meant I'd be fighting my way through the deep snow for three hours. Soon I hardly had the strength to move forward. I staggered into a drift, which supported me for a few seconds before I plunged in up to my mid-thigh. I tried to pull my leg out to take another step and didn't have the energy. Standing there looking around me at the silent, darkening snowscape I realized I could hear water roaring and looked ahead a few yards. To my surprise I saw a patch of ground about five feet square clear of snow. "Honey, I'm home." I thought to myself.

Bivy at 10,500'

Knowing that come what may, I was done hiking for the day gave me the energy to free myself and fought forward the few yards to the clear spot. No sooner did I step onto the clear patch of earth, I whipped off my pack and hung it on a branch stub. I stripped off my soaked base layer shirt and hung it on a branch. From my pack I removed a heavy long sleeve turtleneck base layer shirt and pulled it on. The dry polar weight polyester felt great on my damp chilled skin. Then I dug from my pack a ultra-light goose down jacket and put my hard shell jacket back on over that. I also took off my sweaty knit hat and put on a dry balaclava. I had some wool mittens to wear over the liner gloves I was wearing but I didn't want to put them on just yet. I had a BIC lighter with me and wanted to build a small fire.
I laid down a piece of close-celled foam on the ground. I'd grabbed it on a last second whim before starting my hike on the thought I might want to take a break during my hike and I figured I'd be surrounded by snow most of the time and I would want a dry and warm place to sit. It was probably the most critical thing I had with me to have a tolerable night. Sitting on the foam at the base of the tree I pried a nice sized piece of loose bark off one of the dying trees (they have an awful pine beetle infestation going on and there are lots of dead trees there now) and used it as a little platform for my tinder. I piled a kindling I'd found under a log near the base of the tree on top of that. Of course the wind picked up the moment I struck the lighter. In all I spent close to twenty minutes working on the fire before I was confident it would get me through the night. I made sure to keep the fire small so that my wood might last as long as possible. I found some dry wood close by in the dead trees and didn't have to go further into the woods and the deep drifts until after midnight.
By the last of the day's dying light I got a good look at the terrain ahead of me. It looked impassable. I was fairly certain the water I heard flowing belonged to the alpine creek I had crossed near tree line. I was positive if I followed it down I would end up at the south end of the trail head parking lot. But looking at the absolutely huge drifts on not only both sides of the creek but covering it as well I shivered to think of trying to force my way through. And the idea of falling into that snow and getting stuck with my feet dangling below me in the rushing ice-cold water of the creek seemed a very real possibility. Then I remembered I wouldn't have to worry about that until dawn so I decided to forget all about it and relax and enjoy my fire. My only real problem was I was out of water. There was no way I was going to try to get any from the rushing torrent so I stuffed snow into my empty water bottle and set it close to my fire to melt. Being plastic I knew there was a small optimal zone between which the snow would melt or the bottle would melt, and I must have adjusted its location five or six times before I was satisfied I had found it. The snow had bits of bark, pine needle flecks and other things I couldn't identify but it wasn't long before I had a good sip in the bottom of the bottle and it was very nice to have a drink. I was able to spit out some of the bits.
I was glad I was alone. I didn't have to worry about getting a companion out of such a situation. I was pretty confident I could get myself out of this spot though. I wasn't anywhere close to getting hypothermic. I had water. And I was pretty sure I would get through the night without too much misery. But if I'd invited someone along and then got him or her into a situation like this, well I was just glad to not have something like that on my mind.
I laughed when I realized how much more of a miserable death it would be to die of exposure as opposed to being doped to the gills in a hospital dying of cancer. But then again these Colorado forests were more appealing to the eye than any hospital room I'd been in in the last couple of years.

The foam was just big enough for me to lie back on and have my head, shoulders and hips off the cold ground. I dug in my crampons and was fairly comfortable. Too comfortable it turned out, for I dozed and woke up to embers where my little fire had been. I added two more sticks to the fire and blew a few frosty breaths on it and it flamed back to life. I decided it would be smart to use the alarm on my cell phone to wake me every thirty minutes to refresh my fire for the remainder of the night. The phone couldn't get a signal so it was nice to have at least one use for it. After I set the alarm I tucked it up into the balaclava near my ear. Drifting back to sleep I thought how impossible it would be to rescue I guy in my position. There was no way a snowmobile could reach me. The only thing that would get me out of there without any effort on my part would be a cable dropped from a copter and I knew that wasn't going to happen. I was familiar with the feeling I had right then. I knew I was the only one to get myself out of this situation. I was so tired I dreaded the effort but I knew I would give it all I had. Then the alarm brought me back. I tended the fire, reset the alarm and passed hours like this. It was somewhere in the middle of the night I had to get out and gather wood. I found crampons were pretty handy for climbing up into dead trees. I stocked my woodpile to the point I thought it would get me through the rest of the night, laid back down and slept off and on. Around three in the morning I felt a couple of drops of rain hit my cheek and lighting brightened the clouds. But the rain held off and for that I was grateful. I knew the thick clouds had kept nighttime temps from plummeting and again, for that I was thankful.
At the slightest hint off dawn I pulled out my topo map and compass to double-check my direction. It was gray with fog all around me and I couldn't get any clues from the lay of the land. But the area I was in was pretty level and it seemed to correspond with the topo lines on the map for the area I thought I was located at. I felt sure if I headed north I'd intersect the trail and be headed down.
Then I realized I would have to start the day with no coffee and for a second I was truly bummed out. Now it was personal. Then I remembered I had half a gel shot left and it was a double espresso gel shot so I figured I had the equivalent of one shot left. My joy knew no bounds as I squeezed the wonderful coffee flavored glob into my month.
It was with some trepidation I broke camp. As rough as it had been it had been a spot that had magically appeared when I needed it and I knew I'd never forget staying there. I moved towards the creek looking for a spot that would not be a snow overhang. I wanted to climb down into the creek under control, not plunging down into who knew what. I was surprised to see across from me on the other side of the creek a broad area free of snow. It appeared to have a decent southern exposure and I thought if I could get over there I could try for a GPS fix. A short distance to the east I found a place I could safely climb down into the creek and walk across to the clear area. The water was hardly ankle deep and my plastic boots kept my feet dry.
Once on the other side I hung the GPS as high as I could get it, then moved around seeing what paths might offer the lease resistance, yet still allow me to move in the general direction I needed to go. Finally I grew cold standing there with no fire so I checked the GPS. No luck.
I moved north swerving and trying hard to avoid the big drifts. I stopped to catch my breath and looked ahead, again trying to pick my best way. I focused my gaze in different directions, picking out details in the mountainside before me. Above and ahead of me I noticed some rocks stacked in a familiar way.
"That's the way trail maintainers stack rocks to cut down on erosion," I thought.
I moved towards them and there was the trail. If I had had the energy I'd let out a whoop. Instead I headed down the trail towards the campground and a light rain started to fall.

revised Oct. 16, 2008

The results of my swell little cheapo food dehydrator. To say it's amazing would be an understatement. A full bottle of salsa after it's dried weighs about the same as a legal envelope. Above are peas, corn, carrots and jalapeno strips I've dried. The peppers actually look much greener in person. It has reduced the weight of two weeks of food for two men to a manageable amount.

13,161 feet above sea-level.

Click to enlarge.

Wheeler viewed from the descent off Walter (it dips down a bit before going up the final section ... and I think that side trail you see is the one that dips down toward Williams Lake): Aubrey Laurence

Posted Sept. 26, 2008

I heard it through the grapevine.

From Rhett "Galactic Elvis" Tillery. Two good scores this week. I traded a Truvative double crankset for another truvative but it's a triple. Mounted it today
Also scored a 7 speed free wheel for the new rear wheel.
At present, I only need to get the front deraillieur on, cable up & put on a new chain.

oh and check out this site.
http://www.pbase.com/canyonlands/fullyloaded

For more info on my bike project click here posted Sept. 23, 2008

The S.S. Wheeler Peak Expedition is on.

The first expedition for Survivor Squad starts October 6, 2008 when Mark Phillips and I will board the Greyhound Bus headed to Taos, New Mexico to attempt to climb to the highest point in the state. For those following along here's our schedule. Check out the layover time in Albuquerque, NM.

Schedule Details
AUSTIN, TX 10:50am AAP 9347

SAN ANTONIO, TX 12:20pm AAP 9347

SAN ANTONIO, TX Transfer 12:40pm :20 KBC 0703

BOERNE, TX 01:10pm 01:10pm KBC 0703

COMFORT, TX 01:30pm 01:30pm KBC 0703

CENTER POINT, TX 01:40pm 01:40pm KBC 0703

LEGION VET HOSP KERR, TX 01:50pm 01:50pm KBC 0703

KERRVILLE, TX 01:55pm 01:55pm KBC 0703

FREDERICKSBURG, TX 02:25pm 02:25pm KBC 0703

MASON, TX 03:10pm 03:15pm :05 KBC 0703

BRADY, TX 03:50pm 03:50pm KBC 0703

EDEN, TX 04:30pm 04:30pm KBC 0703

SAN ANGELO, TX 05:15pm 05:30pm :15 KBC 0703

STERLING CITY, TX 06:00pm 06:00pm KBC 0703

BIG SPRING, TX 07:00pm 07:15pm :15 GLI 0446

LAMESA, TX 08:10pm 08:10pm GLI 0446

LUBBOCK, TX 09:10pm 09:30pm :20 GLI 0446

PLAINVIEW, TX 10:20pm 10:20pm GLI 0446

TULIA, TX 10:50pm 10:50pm GLI 0446

AMARILLO, TX 11:35pm GLI 0446

AMARILLO, TX Transfer 02:25am 2:50 GLI 1333

ALBUQUERQUE, NM 06:05am GLI 1333

ALBUQUERQUE, NM Transfer 11:25am 5:20 GLI 0420

SANTA FE, NM 12:35pm 12:45pm :10 GLI 0420

TAOS, NM 02:20pm Posted Sept. 18, 2008

I'm proud to announce the formation of Survivor Squad: David Connolly and Mark Phillips. The first team goal is to summit Wheeler Peak on (or close to) October 9th, 2008. Wheeler Peak at 13161 feet above seal level is the highest point in New Mexico. I'm guessing everyone's familiar with my story of what's been cut-out or off me. Mark has one good leg left so he's a natural for mountain climbing. He may like to add to this intro so if you'd like you can click his name to visit his page. We've got several adventures planned so stay tuned for further developments.

"A 10 mile overnight training hike this weekend capped off a ..."

Here's what my training looks like for now. I'm finding out if it works while I'm still close enough to the ground if it doesn't!

Posted Aug 11, 2008: I'm thinking about trying a 2-fer this October. Leave Austin on the Greyhound (buso de amigos) to Taos, N. M. and climb New Mexico's highpoint Wheeler Peak, then go from there to give Longs Peak a second attempt at the summit. I know I was there a couple months ago but I didn't plan on summiting that trip.

"I don't know how to not have fun," he said in the lecture. "I'm dying and I'm having fun. And I'm going to keep having fun every day I have left. Because there's no other way to play it."

Above quote by Randy Pausch, the Carnegie Mellon University computer scientist whose "last lecture" about facing terminal cancer became an Internet sensation and a best-selling book, died Friday. He was 47.

Swayze Hopeful Over Cancer Fight

Looks like he's doing great.

Bicycle Project Update June 15, 2008

As you can see the bicycle/trailer project is coming together. A huge thanks to Rhett Tillery for getting this whole thing off the ground and moving forward. I'm hoping this rig will get me to some pretty exciting places and will also help my physical conditioning. Plus with planning any extended adventure I've got to carry my colostomy supplies which have to stay dry, not too hot, etc. and I think having the trailer instead of just a back pack will make it a little easier.