One problem Elise and I had was that the climb up Castleton was a traditional climbing route (trad) and we had only done sport climbing before. The difference being that in sport climbing you have fixed bolts already on the route that you can clip into for safety, with trad there are no bolts and you must place in your own protection as you climb. Lucky for us we were in a place dominated by climbing and climbing guides and after a short search we found a local guide named Marie who was free to guide us up and was happy to have me jump off the top once we got there.
We started the approach to Castleton from a small campground by the side of the road that splits the valley floor. It took us an hour and ten minutes of switchbacks and scree fields to get to the top of the talus and to the base of the rock wall where we would start our climb. We had chosen one of the most popular routes up the tower called the North Chimney, which involved climbing a crack that turns into a large chimney before topping out three pitches above us. The climb was rated a 5.9 up to a 5.10 in places, which although isn’t hard climbing, it was our first crack climb and was bound to be challenging. Marie gave us a quick lesson on crack climbing techniques before we started, how to use finger and foot jams and how to squeeze your body into wider sections and use the texture of the rock to ascend.
We started up the route with Marie in the lead placing in all the protection as she climbed. Protection or gear, is made up of Camalots (cams) acting like spring-loaded anchors, perfect for cracks, that come in multiple sizes. Nuts, which can be placed into tiny, irregular shaped holes, and an assortment of other devices used for various slots and pockets are all designed to save your life if you fall. Once Marie was secure at the top of the first pitch I would climb second and retrieve most of the protection she had placed in. It took me longer to climb as I was continually fumbling around collecting the gear from the wall and trying not to fall off in the process. I secured myself at the top of the pitch and pulled my parachute and helmet up in a haul bag before Elise climbed. The bag wasn’t too heavy and it hauled cleanly up the face in no time at all. Elise then started her climb, secured from the top so she was safe from falling at all times. Elise collected all of the remaining protection and once we were all at the top of the first pitch we would reorganise the ropes, equipment and gear then the process would start all over again.
The climbing was amazing, so different to anything I’d climbed before and the view of the valley below us as we moved higher and higher was absolutely breathtaking. The route was challenging in places but at no time did I feel like I was going to fall and Elise looked to be in her element. The first pitch took us one and a half hours and as we completed the third pitch and were nearing the summit we had been climbing for almost four hours. We scrambled up the last few metres of the route until there was nowhere higher to go and the breeze hit us in the face – we were on the top. The summit was the size of a basketball court, shaped more like a triangle than a square and had sheer drop offs on all sides to the talus below. The view was stunning and we were totally pumped to be up there after the challenge of the climb.
After hugs and high fives in celebration I started to look around at the possible exit points and checked the wind on all sides of the tower. The best exit point faced back towards the road 500 metres below us and had a good overhanging lip on its edge. It wasn’t much of a run up, only two steps but it was the safest option for a jumping point. I checked the wind by spitting off the edge multiple times and there was a small breeze that was fluctuating from different directions but no head wind so I decided I was going to jump it.
I unloaded the haul bag and put on my parachute, helmet and shin pads. Jimmy had made his way out to the landing zone so I was able to raise him over the walkie-talkie and get a brief about what the winds were doing down below. He told me the winds were moving right to left and I made a mental note while picking out a trail in the distance that could be perfect to land along if I could glide far enough away from the tower. I checked the winds one more time and they seemed to be changing directions every few minutes, but still no head wind. I said my goodbyes to the girls and set myself up two steps back from the edge. My plan was to do a handheld jump with a 1–1.5 second delay in order to open up in the most overhung section of the cliff. I picked my last point of contact for my foot and picked my horizon focus point upon exit. Deep breath, three, two, one, go!
Two steps and I pushed off the edge into free fall before pitching my pilot chute with my right hand. I immediately started to turn and I knew something was wrong. I was flung around facing the cliff, knowing instantly I’d had a massive off heading and was going to hit. Instinctively I reached up to the top of my right rear riser and pulled as hard as I could to try and turn the canopy before I hit. Nothing happened for what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was fractions of a second, and then it turned. The canopy pulled around to the right as I drifted slightly backwards within a couple of metres of the rock and then it started to move away. While I was trying to turn the canopy I was still losing altitude and I noticed a big ledge rushing up from below. I cleared the ledge by a few metres as the canopy picked up speed and gave me some separation. I popped my brakes and the parachute did its job, surging away into open air towards the landing zone. I was safe.
My heart was jacked, the adrenaline was pumping through my body and I let out a yell in shock and celebration. I couldn’t relax just yet as I still had to land, and I lined up with the trail I picked out earlier. The winds were picking up and the parachute was struggling to punch through in the direction I’d chosen, forcing me to pick out another section of the trail further down the valley to land in. I lined up with the trail and brought it in, landing safely on a soft, red dirt path. I let out a scream of relief and could hear Elise and Marie replying with yells from the top of the tower. They didn’t have a clue at that stage as to how close I’d just come to having a serious accident but Jimmy did, who came rushing over to make sure I was alright. He thought I was going to hit for sure and was just as relieved as I was that I was able to turn it in time. Jimmy’s training at the bridge had paid off big time and without those practice days with him at the bridge I could have been crippled or killed.
Analysing the GoPro video later that night it was clear to see I had a 200-degree off heading to the right. I was within a couple of metres of hitting the wall and my quick reactions just managed to save my own life. I was slightly shaken up by the whole thing and it did put a tiny dampener on what was an amazing climb of Castleton Tower. The crazy thing about BASE jumping is that even though I had just had a close scrape with death I wanted to go and jump again straight away. I had trouble making sense of these feelings but what I think it comes down to for me is that when I’m living life on such a knife edge like that it makes my everyday life so rewarding and you appreciate it so much more. It seems bizarre explaining that risking your life makes you appreciate it, but that’s how it feels for me and maybe it’s only a feeling BASE jumpers get to experience.
…
We had the most epic time running around Moab and playing on its cliffs but it was getting close to the end of our American tour and Elise and I had decided to tie the knot in Vegas so it was time to say bon voyage to this little adventure paradise and say hello to Sin City. We drove into Vegas at night, which I’d highly recommend over the day time. The allure of the glittering lights and sparkling billboards of naked women project a slightly different image than the all-exposing light of day. We stayed at a lovely hotel on the strip with all the trimmings and we had made all the arrangements for our little wedding the month before. We had decided to get married in a hot air balloon with Jimmy as our witness, and at the conclusion of the ceremony we would all jump out together. It was simple, fun, stress free and it was all about us.
Elise had purchased her wedding dress from a used clothing store for $25 and I had found a suit jacket for $8. Some alterations needed to be made to the dress so it didn’t get tangled up during the jump and I wore blue board shor
ts to go with my jacket. She looked beautiful and I was comfortable, just the way you should be on your wedding day. The balloon guys picked us up from the strip early the following day and we drove half an hour outside Vegas into the desert. We met the celebrant who was very excited to watch us jump out of the balloon, and with a chill in the air and no wind it seemed to be perfect weather for ballooning.
We watched on as the balloon crew inflated the balloon with the roaring flame thrower and fans. The huge structure rose slowly above the basket and once it was directly overhead and fully inflated we pulled on our parachutes and climbed aboard. Within seconds we were lifting off under the roar of the gas burner. It’s an amazing feeling gaining altitude without a plane and as the sun broke over the horizon and the desert stretched out below us it was truly an amazing sight. We made it to 5000 feet and the celebrant started the ceremony. It was short and sweet, filled with the dramatic quotes of love and life that we all come to expect on days like this and finished with the pronouncement of husband and wife. I was never going to get married, and had put it from my mind before I met Elise and now I cannot imagine my life without her. I love her completely and said so as we sealed the deal with a kiss. We were now Mr and Mrs Richmond and our first act as husband and wife was jumping from the balloon.
We had planned our exit before we left the ground. Jimmy was going to be jumping backwards and Elise and I would jump forwards towards Jimmy, who could capture it all on film. We climbed up onto the top of the basket and positioned ourselves as best we could. Elise had only ever done jumps from a plane and had never done an exit into dead air so I told her to keep her eyes on the horizon and keep her chest up to avoid going head low and tumbling. We all smiled at each other, picked our landing area far below on a rare patch of grass near a hotel and were ready to exit. Three, two, one, go!
We stepped off and that glorious feeling of free-fall took over. Elise went head low and performed a perfect front somersault before levelling out nicely into free fall. Jimmy and I exited well and once the air speed had increased to terminal velocity we tracked away from each other to give us good separation before we deployed our parachutes. Opening a BASE jumping rig at terminal speed can be a bit rough but mine opened perfectly and as I looked around I saw Jimmy and Elise were open and flying towards the landing area as well. Jimmy was first to land and I followed him in, performing a nice little fly-by of the small casino whose grassed front courtyard we were landing in. Elise came in last and we had all landed perfectly without incident. I let out a yell of joy that was echoed by Elise and Jimmy before quickly ripping off my parachute and running over to my wife to give her a big hug and a kiss. We were married and what a way to start a marriage! We ran over to Jimmy and had a group hug and photo to seal the day, and it was back to the strip for celebrations.
The American BASE jumping tour was one of my all-time favourite trips. The sport itself is hard to explain to non-jumpers but I’d tell anybody interested in BASE jumping to take it slow and go through all of the training correctly, don’t progress too fast. Read and learn about the sport and find yourself a mentor you trust to show you the way. As Jimmy moved over to Europe to pursue the art of human flight in the form of wing suiting, it was time for Elise and I to head back to our beloved Thailand for a season of work, climbing and planning for the next adventure. We all have one life and one chance so get out there and make the most of it.
AFTERWORD
…
My life has been anything but normal and I cannot thank my parents enough for dragging me around Australia and teaching me country values when I was a boy. Adventures and sharing my story are now my full-time obsession and I cannot imagine a life without it. We don’t know how long we each have left on this earth and a wise man once told me that if you get to your death bed and can tell one hell of a story about your life then it was a life well lived. All of my possessions can fit inside two duffel bags and at the drop of a hat I could be on a plane tomorrow bound for another epic adventure. As I write these concluding words my current position is N45 00.638 E96 11.195 – eighteen days into a crossing of the Gobi desert in Mongolia. Elise and I, plus a British mate named Matty, are trying to be the first to cross the entire desert while dragging carts 1800 kilometres from west to east. Every morning I crawl out of my tent and say:
BE GRATEFUL
YOU DESERVE THIS
THANK YOU FOR ALLOWING ME TO SUFFER.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
…
Behind every great adventurer there is a support base that allows us the freedom to do what we love. Although I don’t class myself as one of the greats just yet, my experience so far in the adventure world is no different. First and foremost I thank my parents Mandy and Clive for raising me in the outback, with country values and morals that have served me well to this day. They are still travelling in a caravan somewhere in Australia and continue to inspire me with their positive outlook on life.
I need to thank my army buddies I served with and who helped transform me from a green 17-year-old kid into a confident man during my years in the military. For those who are still serving – stay sharp, trust your gut and get yourselves home safe from wherever you are in this crazy world. To Liam Harte and Jordan McCallum, those two phone calls at a critical time changed the direction of my life from one of addiction and despair to adrenalin and adventure.
I have too many sponsors to thank across so many great expeditions but I have to make a special mention to Simon and Kerrie from Australian Sports Nutrition. You both took a chance on a young guy with no experience and have stuck with me over the years. Also thanks to the Karima Group and the Sahyoun family, you are like a second family to me and I still call on your guidance and mentorship during pivotal times.
To all of my teammates, climbing partners, and those that enjoy the suffering as much as I do, thank you for being who you are and for giving me the inspiration I needed during the tough times. To those who have died doing what they love, you will never be forgotten and I’ll be seeing you all again one day, I am certain.
To Jane Curry, Zoe Hale and Eleanor Reader at Impact Press Publishing, you took a chance on an unknown author who had trouble spelling and staying in the right tense. We have come a long way, created something very special and I thank you for your guidance and support. Lauren Mitchell, my first draft editor and daily inspiration, you are a beautiful human and I thank you for all your red pen suggestions during the early days of writing.
For all of my friends whom I think of as family from around the world, you are too many to count and for that I am truly grateful. Every single one of you has impacted me in some way and have helped create the content in this book. I hope that I have given back to you in the same way you have given to me.
The final acknowledgement is for my beautiful wife Elise. Without you next to me, adventure loses its spark and the volume of life is turned down. You give me the constant support I need to pursue these challenges and never question my ability to get the job done. We have crossed a desert together, climbed the highest cliffs, and jumped out of a balloon. The next fifty years are bound to be incredible. I love you and this book would not be here without you. Onwards to the next adventure!
My sister and I dressed up as beer cans for a fancy dress party. My creative mum made them all by hand.
One of the baby freshwater crocodiles we kept in our bath for two weeks until Mum had had enough and wanted her bathroom back.
My gypsy parents, Mandy and Clive. They flip their lucky penny to decide which road they will travel next.
In the jungle of East Timor at eighteen. Serving my country on my first deployment in 2003.
The small hut that contained the dead climber during our summit day on Aconcagua, Argentina.
Descending Aconcagua, Argentina after celebrating on the summit.
The summit of Denali, Alaska.
Departing Denali base camp bound for Talkeetna and a beer.
Inside the container at the Freepo
rt mine, West Papua, with Dean sitting up next to me.
Standing on the summit of Carstensz, West Papua holding a picture of the king of Thailand.
Locals waiting outside of the chief’s house in Sugapa. Eighteen would be selected to work with our expedition as porters.
Valentine and I after our close call on Mount Elbrus, Russia.
One of our captors in West Papua, a good bloke just doing his job.
Dad and I during our ascent of Mount Kilimanjaro, Tanzania.
Moving to high camp on Vinson Massif, incredible Antarctica stretching to the horizon.
Slowly making my way up Vinson Massif.
In the middle of the Atlantic it was time for a selfie while the crew scraped the bottom of the boat clean.
Inside the tiny cabin that Jake and I shared for 55 days during our Row2Rio campaign.
I lost 14 kilograms (31 pounds) during the Atlantic crossing, my largest weight loss on any expedition.
I was human bait in the middle of the Atlantic. I shot a proposal video for Elise while trying not to drown.
One Life One Chance Page 30