Lifted to safety

When the phone rang at Chris Holt's house on July 25, she expected it was her daughter, Stella Holt, calling from Glacier Park.

That afternoon, Stella, 15, and three friends had planned to climb Mount Gould near Logan Pass. Typically, after a day in the mountains, she will drop a line to her mom letting her know she is safe and headed back home.

But when Chris answered the phone this time, it was a man¡'s voice on the other end.

"Mrs. Holt, there's been an accident," Michael Ober, a ranger with the Park Service, told Chris.

At that moment, a million seconds could have passed between those words and the next four she would hear. It was like the rotation of the earth had screeched to a glacial crawl.

Chris was on the verge of "losing it."

Stella has had a string of bad luck recently - a sledding accident last winter, a car wreck in June- and events, good and bad, tend to happen in threes.

This wasn't the phone call she wanted.

THE DAY was perfect for climbing on Glacier's tallest peaks.

While it was steaming down in the valley for Columbia Falls' Heritage Days, up in the higher elevations, the wind was calm and the temperature had settled in the 70s. Tourists buzzed around Logan Pass, mountain goats posed for portraits and a few hardy hikers from Whitefish were setting their eyes on a 9,553-foot summit.

Stella and her three friends, Ian Mallams, 19, Jack Steele, 16, and Helen Mann, 18, had parked their car at Haystack Creek- the start of their climb on the west face of Gould.

It was supposed to be a relatively quick day in the mountains-  leave the car, hike to the summit and descend back to the car in an afternoon. The route is rated as Class III by the Glacier Mountaineering Society, meaning climbers will encounter high-angle scrambling, moderate cliffs and a rope could be required for beginners.

But Stella had experience in these mountains, and as the reigning national Nordic skate-ski champion, she was in prime physical condition. In fact, she had climbed Glacier Park's Mount Reynolds just a few days prior- a climb that is just as difficult as Gould and more exposed.

The group hiked straight up from the parking area to just above the popular Highline Trail where the climb becomes steeper and more technical. They maneuvered over small cliff bands and scrambled up steep sections of Glacier's infamous rock that can crumble under the lightest of footsteps.

A little over an hour into the climb, Stella approached a 10-foot cliff between her and the next section of scrambling. But as she stepped up to make a climbing move, her foot slipped and she fell back about three feet to land on a rock below.

Luckily, she stopped on her backside and came to a halt on a small section of scree just under the 10-foot cliff. Any more momentum and she could have tumbled hundreds of feet down the mountain.

But the impact of the fall had already done its damage. The sole of her foot had been wrenched parallel with her leg and she couldn't stand up.

Stella looked to her friends climbing above and yelled, "Um, guys, I'm pretty sure I just broke my ankle."

She had actually broken her lower tibia and fibula, and the pain was excruciating.

Her friends climbed down to her, quickly realized there was no way Stella could hike out on the injured leg and formulated a rescue plan.

Mallams was the most experience climber in the group- he recently climbed Mount Rainier in Washington- so he would climb down the mountain and get help while Mann and Steele stayed with Stella.

Four hours passed while Mallams went for help. He had to make it back to the car, drive to Logan Pass and find a ranger who could call for rescuers.

While waiting, Stella constantly resituated her resting position, trying to stay as comfortable as possible. Steele and Mann stacked up their backpacks in a myriad of angles to give Stella something to lean on.

"That's how we entertained ourselves," Stella said. "I moved positions every 15 minutes. Jack and Helen were really good at helping me."

They talked a lot, too-anything to keep her mind off of the pain.

DOWN IN THE VALLEY, Chris was answering the phone call no parent wants to get - her world moving in slow motion.

"Mrs. Holt, there's been an accident," Ober gently spoke.

But then, as if Ober should have started the phone call with these four words, he said, "But she is OK."

A Canadian helicopter from Waterton Lakes National Park had been dispatched to pluck Stella and her friends from the side of the mountain. Chris could hear the chatter of Ober's radio in the background.

Two paramedics were lowered to the cliff from the helicopter by a rope. They situated Stella's leg with vaccum splits, put her in a harness clipped to the line and lifted her off the slopes of Gould.

The helicopter dropped Stella off at Haystack Creek, where they had originally parked, and she was loaded into an ambulance headed for North Valley Hospital.

As quickly as a tragedy can happen, one was diverted.

STELLA HAD SURGERY on July 30 and says she will be in some type of cast for about eight weeks, followed by rehab.

Despite the long road of recovery that awaits her this fall, she's optimistic about getting back on the skinny skis by winter.

"I'm planning on being back for ski season," she said with a matter of fact.

And her mom wouldn't put it past her.

"She will rise to the occasion," Chris said. "She is a hard worker and will put in the gym time. Skiing is the love of her life."

As for climbing, Stella is unsure about getting back into the mountains, but will cross that bridge when the time comes.

"I love the feeling of getting up high on a mountain," she said. "We'll see."