Published November 2, 2026 05:05PM<\/p>\n<\/div>\n
A 60-year-old Canadian climber was rescued<\/a> from New York\u2019s Adirondack Mountains on October 22 after spending seven hours standing on a frozen patch of rock and ice\u00a0no bigger than a coffee table waiting for search and rescue.<\/p>\n For the climber, named Eric Le Bourhis, that miserably stationary wait made him a model subject for rescuers.<\/p>\n Le Bourhis was climbing Mount Colden, a 4,714-foot peak near Lake Placid, when he encountered ice and stopped to put on his crampons, the rescue report said.<\/p>\n But the bag containing them slipped away and slid down the mountainside, leaving him without the traction he needed to climb any higher. Worse, the wet rock he\u2019d climbed earlier was now frozen, making it too slippery to descend. Le Bourhis was effectively trapped. There was a cluster of trees just seven feet away offering a possible escape, but reaching them meant risking a potentially deadly jump across the icy slope.<\/p>\n In a\u00a0video interview<\/a> released by the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation, Le Bourhis said he resisted the temptation to jump, a decision that spared him the risk of a potentially deadly fall.<\/p>\n \u201cI agonized over that, should I try to jump this gap? Should I jump? Should I not jump? Should I activate the beacon? Finally, when I saw the sun was setting, I decided to activate the beacon,\u201d he said. And according to Chris Boyer, executive director of the National Association for Search and Rescue<\/a>, it\u2019s precisely those moments of desperation that can turn an already dangerous situation into something much worse.<\/p>\n \u201cThe more you move, the more desperate you get, and the worse the decisions you make are,\u201d Boyer told Outside<\/em>. \u201c<\/strong>You start to take on more risk about, can I make it across this stream? Can I climb this area? Things like that. So we want to minimize their risk and maximize their survivability and findability,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n Le Bourhis was climbing a route known as the Trap Dike, which winds through a steep, rocky passage on Mount Colden before opening onto broad, exposed slopes near the summit. He had climbed it before. Classified as a Class 4 climb, the route requires using both hands and feet, and a fall can be fatal.<\/p>\n After dropping his crampons, Le Bourhis\u00a0activated his satellite distress beacon as the sun went down. Dispatch received the signal at 6:22 P.M., but Le Bourhis didn\u2019t know whether help was coming. With no room to sit, he spent the next seven hours standing and trying to keep his increasingly tired\u00a0legs steady.<\/p>\n \u201cI wanted to entertain myself by looking at Lake Placid, or maybe the lights of people coming for me,\u201d he said. \u201cBut I didn\u2019t even have that as entertainment because it made me a bit wobbly. So I just put my headlamp on low and looked at the ground right in front of me for hours and tried to stay upright.\u201d<\/p>\n When panic sets in, stranded travelers often convince themselves that help isn\u2019t coming and that they will starve or freeze before anyone notices they are gone, Boyer told\u00a0Outside.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cThat flight response kicks in,\u201d Boyer said. \u201cAll those things start to manifest, and that can do weird things to you. You think, \u2018Nobody\u2019s going to come find me, no one knows I\u2019m missing, and the only way for me to survive is to walk out on my own.’\u201d<\/p>\n Staying put is not an absolute rule, of course. Boyer clarified that travelers facing immediate dangers, such as avalanches or lightning, may need to move to safety. Absent an immediate threat, however, remaining stationary gives rescuers a reliable starting point without worrying that someone has wandered into an area they\u2019ve already searched.<\/p>\n Forest rangers reached Le Bourhis at 1:16 A.M. on October 22. One ranger<\/a> ventured onto the icy slope to secure him to a rope system before the team guided him into the trees. A punishing bushwhack uphill and a trail descent followed before the operation ended at 8 A.M., nearly 14 hours after his initial SOS.<\/p>\n Forest Ranger Nate Jeffery, who helped rescue Le Bourhis, described the climber as unusually well prepared, despite the mistakes that had left him stranded.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t think there\u2019s too many subjects that could pull off the composure to stay calm and collected and maintain their position on that ledge for that long,\u201d Jeffery said in a separate DEC video<\/a> interview.<\/p>\n Despite carrying an emergency beacon, Le Bourhis never imagined he\u2019d be the one calling for help.<\/p>\n \u201cI felt a huge rush of guilt and shame,\u201d he said. \u201cWell, why did I have a beacon then? I don\u2019t know. But I never thought I would have to use it.\u201d<\/p>\n Boyer says backcountry users should always feel free to call for help during an emergency. Volunteer teams devote their time, money, and training to helping people in trouble, he said.<\/p>\n \u201cNinety-nine percent of search and rescue personnel\u00a0in the U.S. are volunteer. They live for this,\u201d he said. \u201d They beg for this. They train hard. They get certifications. They spend personal money on gear. They prepare for this, and they want to help. They\u2019re an altruistic service that\u2019s available, and don\u2019t feel bad about calling them.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/strong><\/p>\nSeven Hours With Nothing to Look At<\/h2>\n
Why Rescuers Say There\u2019s No Shame in Calling<\/h2>\n