Flash Floods & Falls: Deaths & Rescues in Zion National Park

By Dave Nally

Zion National Park is home to majestic and wondrous canyons, cliffs, crags, mesas, rivers, and slot canyons. World travelers remain in awe as they drive, walk, hike, and climb into such a unique place that is filled with vibrant, sacred, and mystical energy. Gradually becoming transfixed, many push themselves further into the wilds, oblivious to weather and dangers, deeper into the backcountry, suddenly finding themselves in extreme predicaments. These are the moments when accidents often occur. . .and these once beautiful, holy places become menacing and dangerous--sometimes leading to agonizing and horrific accidents--and even death!

Since the early 1900s there have been over 70 recorded deaths that have taken place inside Zion's park boundaries. Hundreds of rescues of outdoor enthusiasts have ensued as well. This book covers all of those deaths, and many of the gripping rescues that have occurred during the past century. Bo Beck, a senior Zion Search and Rescue member for over 17 years, also shares his personal accounts. You will marvel at the riveting stories, and take away a better understanding of how to be smarter and better prepared for your next great adventure!

The book is divided into flash flood deaths, slot canyon (rappelling) deaths, rock climbing deaths, falls from cliffs, and bizarre deaths.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dave Nally
• Release date: Jan 15, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310886898

Dave Nally

Dave Nally, age 48, has three daughters; and they have lived in Ivins, Utah from the beginning of the 21st century, after he stepped down from a decade-long career in the high-tech software industry in northern Utah. After beating cancer nearly a decade ago, he came to realize that life is much too short and evanescent, and that living life to its fullest potential is the ultimate experience. He dabbles with creating music, photography, and stock investments. However, he mostly enjoys any kind of adventure that takes place in the great outdoors. In 2012, he was a participant in the award-winning film―The Last of the Great Unknown―a short documentary about expedition-style slot canyon explorations and first descents in the Grand Canyon. In 2003, he authored "Hiking and Biking in the Red Cliffs Desert Reserve."

Book preview

Preface

The culmination of a number of events went into the inspiration, journey, work, and final product of this book, over the course of more than a decade. Back in 1999, I was deeply affected when my co-worker friend was riding his bicycle with his daughter down the paved road in Zion National Park’s Kolob Finger section. His daughter, Rebecca, age 14, was riding behind him downhill at a moderate speed, when the front wheel of her bike started to wobble. This wobbling caused her to lose control of the bike, and fall on her side. During the fall, she impacted her right cheek. Rebecca’s mother was following behind her in their van, and she witnessed the entire incident. When she pulled over and got to her side, Rebecca’s heart was still pounding, and she was still breathing fine, but she was unconscious. They immediately placed her in the vehicle and rushed her to the nearby hospital in Cedar City, Utah. The doctors discovered that the fall had jolted her brain stem, and that her brain was no longer functioning―even though she was still breathing. She was Life Flighted up to Salt Lake City for tests and treatment, but soon stopped breathing on her own within 24 hours. Sadly, she died three days later.

When tragedies like this occur, we are all forced to face and reflect on the biggest unanswerable question in the cosmos…and that is why(?) Why did this happen to her, or him? So often, as with my friend’s daughter’s unjustly accident, death occurs to someone who is still very young, healthy, vibrant, and non-deserving. And when one dies in such an incredibly beautiful setting as Zion, we must wonder if this type of death is not a part of their journey, their higher calling, or their ultimate destiny. Family and friends closest to the deceased are compelled to contemplate these puzzling mysteries, and convince themselves that certainly their life, being cut short, has a profound sense and purpose. For those of us who have never met these souls, we have the opportunity to hear their stories, be inspired from their adventures, and learn from their mistakes.

When writing about the subject of death, dying, accidents, near-misses, and close calls, I cannot help but to reflect on my own personal experiences. Back in the summer of 2004, I was faced with my own mortality. At that time, I was healthy, athletic, an outdoor lover, and in the prime of middle age. Therefore, I was shocked when out of the blue, I was diagnosed with cancer―such an unpleasant term! I endured countless sleepless nights, contemplating the tormenting fears that my once healthy body might slowly wither away in agony…my young children possibly being without a father…and then the endless unanswered whys recirculating in my head.

After undergoing surgery, countless tests, and then six weeks of intense chemotherapy, I wondered if I would ever have a life where I could get out and enjoy the natural beauty that resides in my backyard. I live in southwestern Utah―directly next to Snow Canyon State Park, an hour drive from Zion National Park, and less than three hours from the Grand Canyon. These beautiful places were my playground―where I would hike, explore, rock climb, backpack, raft, and bike. Could I ever enjoy them again, or would I even make it and ever be able to see them again?

During this gloomy time period for me, on a long weekend around the 4th of July (it was extra long for me, because on the following Tuesday, I was to go into my first major surgery), I took my family to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon to enjoy what I thought might be my last visit there. Like a salmon returning to its spawning grounds, I was drawn back to this spectacular canyon―the place where I was conceived. (My inception by my parents was only in thought―not literally in flesh. My mother worked her college summers at the North Rim as an organist in the dining room. My father drove down in the middle of the summer, and proposed to her right there on a wooden park bench on the rim, while they were enjoying a fantastic canyon sunset. They were married six months later, and I was born nearly a year after they were married).

On this weekend, I enjoyed hiking to the vistas along the rim, and I half-wondered if it wouldn’t be better for me to jump off and die here in such a beautiful place, rather than under a knife, or writhing in pain in a bed for weeks on end, until the deathly shadow of chemotherapy would envelope my once strong body into darkness. Wouldn’t I rather my death occur in a beautiful, spiritual place like Grand Canyon―my spirit could soar with the hawks, and sleep with the coyotes?!

Of course, I was not serious about killing myself―I still had a young family and a good chance of beating this cancer. At the end of our weekend visit, I browsed around in the North Rim bookstore and came across a book on death, there in such a place! It was titled Over The Edge: Death in Grand Canyon, written by Michael Ghiglieri and Thomas Myers. I decided that it would be a perfect book to read while I was laid up for the summer. I knew that people had died in national parks, but I had not realized just how many had died in the Grand Canyon over the years.

Reading their book on deaths gave me much insight and appreciation for life, the canyon, the way we live, and the manner in which we die. For the previous two years before my cancer, I had been a volunteer with the Washington County Search and Rescue. In that short time I had been called out on many missions to help rescue or recover a number of people in caves, off sheer faces in Snow Canyon, high up in the wilderness maze on the Red Mountain, from car crashes going over cliffs, and sadly…from self-inflicted gunshots under the shadows of the beautiful red-rock cliffs. I was intrigued by just how many people got in over their heads, cliffed out, lost, dazed, distressed in the dark, and of course, hurt in so many ways. Those were some of the questions that I had, and that book seemed to answer many of the questions of why (and how) so many people had died.

After reading that book, I began noting and collecting some of the tragic stories in the news that took place in Zion National Park, as well as some of the interesting rescues. In the back of my mind, I thought it would be useful if there were a book about Zion; however, I assumed that Ghiglieri and Myers would tackle that task, since they subsequently came out with a book about deaths for Yosemite National Park. (Last year I met with Myers, and he informed me that they were not planning a book on Zion deaths.)

Speaking frankly on the subject of death, our western society has cultured most of us to spend and do as much as we can, in order to evade and elude death. We have created huge industries that try to keep us alive for as long as possible. I was actually heartbroken to see people in their mid-70s poisoning and weakening their bodies with chemo drugs―just so they could live an extra 90 days. For some reason we humans call it a human race, and many people believe that the winner of the race is the one who lives as long as possible (and accumulates the most toys). Quantity of life (or the total number of days lived) is what most people think is important―there is not much thought given to quality of life―or even the quality of death, including where or in what manner we die.

I have a lot of respect for the living, the dead, those who have been rescued, the hero rescuers, and the survivors of those whose loved ones have died. Although death is scary, lonesome, and sorrowful (especially for those of us left behind), my personal belief is that those souls whose lives are taken suddenly in Zion, are fortunate to have that as the place where they will be remembered. Zion becomes the special, heavenly place where their life ended―and it is usually while they were doing something that they truly loved.

I was very fortunate to become friends with Bo Beck a decade ago, and go with him on some incredible outings in this beautiful canyon country where we both live. These adventures included hikes, exploration trips, peak scrambling, canyoneering, canoeing, and the thrill we had of rowing our boats down the Grand Canyon. Bo has been on Zion’s Search and Rescue (SAR) team since 1996, and has participated in dozens of rescues during this time. I have the utmost respect for him, and for all of those involved in the Search and Rescue for those in need.

I have asked Bo to help me with this project, by sharing his incredible experiences and insights. My intention from compiling these stories is so that we may all have a greater appreciation and understanding of what actually occurred in Zion―to those who died, and to those who were rescued. Not only will we better understand more about what transpired, but we will also be more prepared to prevent these things from happening to ourselves and to others, as we are all out there, living life to its fullest.

Bo Beck rappelling in Mystery Canyon.

(Photo by Tanya Milligan)

Introduction

by

Bo Beck

Many people ask me about my personal history, and how I got started with Zion’s Search and Rescue (SAR) team, and what is it that we do. I ultimately moved to the Saint George, Utah area in 1990, and fell in love with the environment after I took some Boy Scouts down the Subway on an adventure. We were hiking with ropes, and that intrigued me. I realized that this kind of hiking and exploring would limit the number of people who would be able to see some of the places like these that I saw, unless they had the skills and equipment to do it.

I always enjoyed hiking, backpacking, and the outdoors since the time I was a 14-year-old teenage boy growing up in Albuquerque. That is when I had my first job at an outdoor store repairing skis, bicycles, backpacks, and camping gear. Several years later, I got a job with a company building hang glider frames. I flew my first hang glider as a teenager, and was hooked on it. This is what contributed to my adventurous spirit, and probably led me to join the Air Force in 1975, when I was 19 years old.

In the Air Force, I learned to rock climb, rappel, and later on parachute from Huey’s. It was there that they recruited me to become an instructor of Global Survival. I was trained to teach survival skills, along with tactical escape and evasion. The attrition rate for instructors was quite high (66%), due to the tests and rigors of the environment; but I passed. Every three weeks I would get a group of eight to twelve aircrew members, and I would teach them for three days the basics of escape and evasion, food procurement, navigation, knots, and medical techniques. Then we would go up into the woods for five days and practice those skills. On the last day, aggressors would capture the trainees, take them to a simulated POW camp on base, and interrogate them to see where their breaking point was. I learned so much by teaching survival skills, and it has helped me to this day in making good decisions in the wild, and having the mental fortitude to push myself through dire circumstances.

I was in the Air Force for four years, and then back to a ski shop in Albuquerque. My parents were then in the fifth year of sailing their small yacht around the world. My father called me from Hong Kong when I was 24 years old, with news that my mother’s health was ailing somewhat. My father asked me if I would come help him sail back to the states. I joined my parents on their yacht in July of 1980, but we didn’t get back to the states until two years later. In the middle of the trip, I met a fellow in Fiji who needed someone to navigate his sailboat back to New Zealand. My parents rested in Fiji while I helped him navigate using a sextant, planets and stars. Remember, this was back in the days before GPS’s.

He was impressed with my sailing and navigation skills, and asked if I would join his team on a 9,000-mile yacht race from Sydney to Rio. The race took us from Australia to New Zealand, across the South Pacific, around the treacherous Cape Horn of South America, and up the Brazilian coast, where it ended at Rio de Janeiro. It took 41 days. Our team was the second team to cross the finish line out of seven teams, but we won by handicap by over four days! McFarland asked me if I wouldn’t mind residing in Rio for a month, so that he could save $1,000 on my airfare to get me back to Fiji. That is when I met my future wife, Maria. After I got back to Fiji, and helped my parents sail back to the US, Maria came to the States about one year after we met, and we were married six months later.

I mentioned how when I moved to Southern Utah, I fell in love with the beautiful landscape and outdoor opportunities. Believe it or not, even though I had participated in some crazy sports like hang gliding, and had jumped out of helicopters into water, I really had a strong fear of heights. I was totally okay if I was clipped in, or had some sort of safety device like a parachute or hang glider, but I have never enjoyed exposure, nor do I get a big thrill out of the act of rappelling. I soon became very interested in rock climbing, and didn’t have a problem with heights and exposure on the wall, because I was always harnessed in. Rappelling was okay to me, but it was a secondary byproduct to what climbing was. My climbing skills evolved rapidly, as I learned to use nuts, chocks, and camming devices. I got involved in the big wall climbing in Zion, especially on Angels Landing and on the other side of the canyon.

It was not too long after that, in 1996, that I was asked by David Buccello (the acting chief ranger), to help Zion’s High Angle rescue team to give them a hand in rappelling and doing some high angle rescues. Some of the other team members at that time were Dean Woods, John Middendorf, Scott Brown, and Scott Cooper Many other rangers and volunteers would come and go over the years.

My first training with the team was for me to be the acting patient. I went up on Angels Landing the night before and rappelled down Sheer Lunacy. I camped out and slept on a ledge, and then the next morning, the team rappelled down to rescue and to hoist me back up. They put me in a litter, and a dozen people hauled me up to the top. I became very interested in the procedure of hauling up people and loads by using mechanical pulleys. I volunteered to carry some packs back down for the team. Right below Refrigerator Canyon, Dave Buccello got a call to go assist on a carryout of someone in the Subway. Dave asked me if I wanted to go help. I readily agreed, but I told him that I would have to return to town by the morning, so that I could open up the store, which I was managing (the Outdoor Outlet). We hiked in, and got to the injured woman at around midnight. She had slipped on some cascades in the Subway. The medics opted to stay with the woman during the night, while I hiked out in order to get to work. Dave called me soon after, and asked if I would like to become a member of the high angle rescue team, and that is where my career with Zion’s SAR team started.

The team had a policy guideline book, complete with specific skill requirements and testing. Team members were supposed to hike and climb regularly, and understand all the trails and routes in the park. There was an eight-hour training once a month, and a weeklong course each year that we were not paid for. I agreed to all of this, and became very involved―I don’t think I missed hardly any trainings or call-outs in the first twelve or thirteen years. In the early years, we would often go and do exercises in specific canyons like Kolob or Behunin, and examine certain scenarios. There was good awareness, and a great pool of knowledge in the group. Zion has always tried to keep a core team that is highly trained. In the last five years the park has designated three sub-teams on SAR―the A team does the technical high angle, the B team assists and is in training for the high angle rescues, and the C team consists of the pack mules.

When I joined the team in 1996 there were five of us volunteers who were not directly employed by the park. (However, we did get hazard pay, similar to what federal wild-land firefighters get when on active call-out.)  Within a few years the other four volunteers left, and I was the last one around, and have been on the SAR team ever since.

The number and difficulty of rescues varies from year to year. There is no consistency to when or how call-outs might come. One season you might have only 20 to 30 rescues, and then the next season you might get 70 to 80. It was never the same from one year to the next, but it was always good to stay honed with up-to-date rescue skills.

Rescue techniques change on a daily basis, and from year to year with new technologies and knowledge. I attribute my success to being an Air Force survival instructor, and to my years being on a small boat, sailing around the world. Sailing helped me mentally more than anything else did. I learned so much when I was a young man on how to maintain myself in harsh outdoor environments, as well as an understanding of risks and situations where I needed to overcome many different problems. These skills built up over time, and helped me once I was on the SAR team.  

This is an extremely important point I would like to emphasize, and it is why I have led up with my condensed life history. This point is: to attempt any of the incredible activities that Zion has to offer (such as hiking, climbing, canyoneering, rappelling, or kayaking), one needs to build the skills―layer upon layer over time. You need to get to the point where you are not only comfortable with your skills in any environment, but you are also very adaptable and skilled enough to handle any scenario that might be thrown at you―whether it’s bad weather, overcoming a time-consuming setback like getting disoriented, treating an injured party member, losing a key piece of rappelling equipment, or making a costly misstep.

I have run an outdoor retail store for nearly three decades now, and when I first got involved with Zion’s SAR, I got excited about some of the new adventures and places I had seen. I made the mistake of giving some customers too much information (beta) that resulted in them getting in over their heads, and ultimately requiring rescues. In fact, two of the first rescues I ever participated with were of the same person in succession―a person who I gave information to. He came into the store, and I initially didn’t recognize that this person was not qualified to do those canyons (Lodge Canyon and Pine Creek). So it was kind of embarrassing to me when we had to go rescue him. The SAR team joked about it and said, Bo, you are keeping us in business!  After that, I became a little less anxious, and a lot more prudent on how I gave this information out. I was selective, and would screen people before