A Mountain Accident

Aron pulled his arm, carefully at first, and then more strongly, but it did not come free.

It was a beautiful spring day and 27-year-old Aron Ralston was walking in the mountains after a hard week at work. The air was fresh, and the sun was high in the sky. Aron stopped walking to listen to the silence of the mountains. “This is wonderful,” he thought. “No work or noise. Only beautiful country around me.

As he continued on his way, he heard a low noise. He looked up quickly at the mountainside above him-but he was too late. Large pieces of rock were falling toward him and he could not escape quickly enough. The earth was moving, and the noise was terrible. In seconds, Aron’s arm was caught under a rock that weighed 500 kilos.

The pain was terrible, but Aron stayed calm. He knew a lot about the mountains. He knew how to live in the wildest and most dangerous open spaces. He pulled his arm, carefully at first, and then more strongly, but it did not come free. Next, he pushed the rock as hard as possible. Again-nothing. It was getting dark. Aron ate a small amount of food and drank some of his water. He wanted to keep strong, get some rest, and try again in the morning.

After a difficult night’s sleep, Aron thought carefully about his problem. Today was Sunday, a popular day for walking. He decided to wait for help to arrive. He looked hopefully up and down the narrow mountain path, but the mountains were empty and silent. The morning passed and the sun moved to the west. By late afternoon it was too late for walkers. Aron needed a different plan.

Using his climbing equipment, he tried to move the rock. He tried a number of different ways, but it was too heavy. Next, he took his pocket knife and tried to break away small pieces of the rock near his arm. “This will destroy my good knife,” he thought, “but my life is more important!” But the knife failed to cut even the smallest piece of rock. Aron knew that he was really caught. He made himself as comfortable as possible for another lonely night.

Aron had enough water and food with him for a day’s walk. But it was day three now and the food was almost finished. He only had enough for one more small meal. In his mind, a difficult and dangerous plan was growing, but he did not want to try yet.

It was Tuesday morning. After three difficult nights in the mountains, Aron was tired and hungry. He drank the last of his water and thought carefully. Now he knew that he had to cut off his arm. He took his knife from his pocket and bravely put the metal against his skin. He pressed down hard and began to cut. But after his work on the rock, the knife was not sharp. “I couldn’t even cut the hair off my arm,” he explained to newspaper reporters later.

Aron used the rock to make his knife sharp again. Then he cut through his skin as far as the bone.

“Then I found that I couldn’t cut the bone,” he calmly told the reporters. For two more days Aron tried different ways to cut his arm off. Without food or drink, his body was getting weaker. But his mind was clear and strong. “I did what I had to do,” he explained.

Aron turned his arm the opposite way to his body. The first arm bone broke easily. Then he broke the second. He tied a piece of cloth tightly around the top of his right arm to stop the blood.

Then, slowly, he cut through the rest of his arm.

At last Aron was free! He looked down at his lifeless arm under the rock. It seemed like a strange dream. His clothes were covered in blood and the pain in his right shoulder was terrible. Aron felt very small and unimportant under the wide sky and tall, dark mountains.

Aron was still in great danger.

He was a long way from home and he was losing blood fast. Darkness was only a few hours away. He had to get to a road as quickly as possible. He looked below him and thought carefully. It was an eighteen-meter drop to the valley floor, but it was the fastest way back. He had to try.

Aron started to lower himself down the steep mountainside. It was hard, slow work with only one arm, but finally his feet touched the valley floor. The nearest road was still sixteen kilometers away.

There was no time to rest. Aron felt weak. It was difficult to think clearly. “I am going to do it,” he told himself. “Just one step at a time…”

Aron started walking. He had to reach help quickly. One more night in the wild mountains was too dangerous. Each painful step took him closer to help. But the walk was very long and difficult.

At last, after six hours, Aron saw two other walkers. He wanted to run and shout, but his body was too weak. When they finally saw him, the worried walkers gave Aron chocolate cookies and water. Then they moved him to open ground. Here, the flying mountain police found the group, and they took Aron immediately to the nearest hospital. For the first time, Aron knew that he was safe. He was truly alive!

Hours later, Aron lay quietly in his hospital bed and looked up at the shiny white walls around him. He was in a different world now - a small, safe world of men and machines. But part of him belongs forever to the wilder world of rock and mountain and sky. Aron says that he cannot wait to get out into the wild again.