Sometimes the most serious accidents happen when you least expect them. The account below, from STV news, describes one such accident.

A woman who lost her leg in a climbing accident is raising money for mountain rescuers who helped save her life. Emily Woodroofe was climbing in the Torridon area of the Highlands on March 23 when a boulder came loose and landed on her leg, pinning her underneath. Seriously injured and fearing for her life, the medical student guided her friends through the steps necessary to keep her alive while they waited for help to arrive.

Ms Woodroofe, 22, said: “Almost as soon as I put my hands on the boulder it dislodged and fell on my leg, trapping it. It was the worst pain I could imagine and I told my friends I was going into shock. “I thought I was going to bleed to death so I told them to put a tourniquet on. They took off my belt and wrapped it around my thigh with water bottles underneath to make it tighter.”

Volunteers from the Torridon and Kinlochewe Mountain Rescue Team were among the first on the scene.

Ms Woodroofe from London said: “Forty minutes, later two GPs with basic trauma training turned up, followed by the mountain rescue team and a helicopter. I was quite out of it by that time and it was a bit of a blur. “The helicopter winched me aboard and took me to Raigmore Hospital, where they gave me emergency treatment.”

Ms Woodroofe was treated in Inverness before being flown to St Mary’s Hospital in London. Doctors initially believed they would be able to reconstruct her leg from muscle on her back but it soon became clear it was too badly damaged and would have to be amputated.

Ms Woodroofe spent nearly a month in hospital and now faces a lengthy recovery. She added: “A normal amputee has their first limb within three weeks but I’m having to wait about three months while the bones knit together. “Hopefully this time next year I’ll be able to go back and thank the people who helped save my life. They couldn’t save my leg but it could have been so much worse.”

Ms Woodroofe has raised more than £3500 for the Torridon and Kinlochewe Mountain Rescue Team so far.

Around 15:30 we recieved the call from the police about 2 walkers crag bound at the top of the gully on Sail Mor on Beinn Eighe, Arjan asked forchopper which was due at 17:00, and myself and Seamus to be on standby in the glen with Arjan in the Landy. Weather was good at the time and cloud nice and high so we anticipated chopper extraction and we even booked a table for 6pm at the Kinlichewe hotel.
Chopper on scene decided they needed us to be lifted to get the casualties. Due to the high turbulence on the ridge, we headed back to base for technical kit and ropes. Arjan called out more team.

Once on board we had quite a bumpy flight up Arjan up front with crew planning the rescue. Myself and Seamus were cattle class up the back. Soon in to the flight it was rather bumpy with bad turbulence, Seamus got out a sick bag. They could not drop us on Sail Mor so instead dropped us and the 500ft rope on Coineach Mhor. Not ideal as winds were about 80mph giving a very interesting winch down which was captured on the GoPro. We also we had the “Bad Step” to contend with in the dark. Chopper departed for fuel so we proceeded to the “Bad Step”. This time the wind was gusting 90- 100mph. We could hardly move, thrown across the hill a few times so then Arjan decided to pull the pin and get off the hill and do rescue in the morning. A call was put in to retrieve us by helicopter. Fair play to crew they did try but the thing was howling and screaming above us and being thrown all over the place. After our interesting journey and winch out we were all a wee bit concerned about our next flight. Moments later 951 got out quick and headed home as uplift was impossible. Their parting words were, “we can’t get you, hunker down for the night and good luck”.

Andrew informed casualties they were not going to be rescued that night. It would have been madness for us to stay up there. We crawled on our hands and knees along the ridge and on our fronts at times till it was safe to descend in to Corrie Dubh. We then hit the screen shoot and headed down. Tom was in the glen with the van and lights going which was a great help. Boy were we glad to see him and head back to base for some rest and round 2 the next day.
Once back at base 951 winch operator called me to see we were alive and OK. He told me that his captain was pulling full torque and the thing was screaming when they tried to get us and they were worried they would
blow something perhaps in the engine. I’m no expert but one would say that doesn’t sound good.

All in all an interesting evening! A top decision made to pull out and go the next day. We are all safe and so are the casualties. Big massive effort put in by Torridon MRT, RAF MRT and R951 and R948.

Ryan MacLean

On the Tuesday night, we arranged for R951 to be at Torridon base at 08:15 and also asked for RAF back up in case we needed help with a stretcher evacuation. The team were asked to muster at Torridon YH at 07:30. We had asked the casualties only to turn on their phone at pre arranged times (09:15, 0000, 03 00, 06 00 ) so that they we could talk to them but they would save battery. From our conversations with them, we knew they were OK but very scared. We impressed on them the importance of staying where they were. The female casualty wanted to try to make it out of the top of the gully. It is my belief that they were in the best possible place to see out the storm and that if they had tried to move the would have died.

On Wednesday morning the road at Garve was blocked by a landslide so the first job was to get information to the RAF team (travelling from Kyle) about Gordy’s back route bypassing the blockage. I asked the police to do this.
 At Torridon YH: Mark, Arjan, Ryan, Andrew, Rod, Graham, Gordy, Alasdair, Tom, John. The 17 RAF MRT arrived at about 08:30. R951 flew over Sail Mhor to make an assessment but weather conditions prevented them completing the operation. They arrived at the YH at about 09:15. First team dropped below Coire Mhic Fhearcair: Gordy, Mark, Rod, Graham. Second team: Andrew, Alasdair, Tom, John + 2 RAF. R951 then returned to Inverness as conditions made flying too dangerous. R951 and 952 were later tasked to a kayaking incident in Ballater so were unavailable for the rest of the day.
 The grid ref we had put the casualties at the top of the big gully you see approaching Sail Mhor. Gordy’s team approached from a gully on the leftmy team approached from directly underneath. We made considerable efforts to maintain communications between both teams, which was a bit of a faff but important. Mark and Gordy spotted the casualties and made their way to them,with Rod and Graham following. Tom and John approached from directly underneath, scoping out the descent possibilities of the gully our team were in. I took up position about half way up the gully with two RAF MRT and Alasdair. We took care to position ourselves out of the line of inevitable falling rocks. The gully was extremely loose and it would have been a mistake to have too may people too high up around the casualties. Encouragingly, when we did dislodge television sized blocks, the gully was easy angled enough so that they didn’t fall too far and there were plenty of mobile small rocks to absorb the impact.
The casualties were mobile. They were fitted with harnesses and helmets and we used a mixture of short roping and rope hand rails on steeper sections to bring them down and out of the gully. It took about 2 hours from when we got them moving to exiting the gully.

Below, Ryan was with the remainder of RAF personnel. He had worries about river levels at the stepping stones so Tom , Ryan, an RAF team member and I went ahead to check, but things were OK. R948 was able to evacuate the casualties (by this time, moving very slowly) from near the junction with the Coire Mhic Nobuill path. I think everyone was off the hill by 16:30. 
So, that’s it. Two young people still around to have a Happy New Year because of Torridon MRT, the RAF and the coastguard helicopters.

Andrew Johnston

Congratulations to all involved in the rescue.
 Conditions must have been atrocious up there on Coinneach Mhor on Tuesday afternoon.
 Thank goodness all safe including the victims. Can only imagine what a
miserable night they endured.
 Best wishes for New Year

Martin Moran

The call came at 2 am and I dragged myself out of bed. Two climbers were overdue from the grade III gully called George in Coire Dubh Mor on Liathach, a route that I have done on dozens of occasions. Muster time was 6am at the team base in Torridon Youth Hostel. I instantly knew that this was a serious shout. I had been retreated from An Teallach the previous day in conditions both wild and dangerous with huge build-ups of drifted snow. The overnight weather forecast was appalling with a “polar low” due to give blizzards and storm-force winds.

Our immediate assumption was that the climbers had been avalanched at some point. Andrew Johnston was acting as coordinator. He gave us the bare bones of information. The wife of one had raised the alarm when they had failed to arrive at the hostel as planned on Friday evening. The two friends had travelled up on Thursday night for a weekend’s climbing. Helicopter assistance was unlikely for several hours, so a foot search was launched.

Six of us were assigned to walk round the back of the mountain and climb into Coire Dubh Mor to approach the route. Three others, led by Jim Sutrherland, would go up the south side to check likely descent routes.  Throughout our searches the prime concern was to avoid placing ourselves in unnecessary danger. At 6.30am we left the Coire Dubh car park, wrapped up to the hilt. Ryan led for a way until the path disappeared under deep drifts a hundred metres up. Mark and I took over and we staggered blindly in the storm. Ferocious cross-winds knocked us over every minute or so. The task ahead seemed overwhelming. The march to the steeping stones in Coire Dubh, a fifty minute jaunt in dry conditions, took us over two hours, but the dawn gave us better orientation.

Emily and Ronald remained in the lee of a large boulder to provide a radio link round the back of the mountain as necessary. I didn’t envy them as they donned down jackets and hunkered down under a group shelter. All the way through the valley the snow was knee-deep and akin to a wet quicksand, sucking the life out of the legs. However, visibility was improving. The worst of the storm had moved through. I began to believe that we could do something useful. Mark is a fit warrior. He and I took turns to forge a trail while Ryan and Charlie handled the radio communications.

After three hours we reached the corrie. A quick scan for recent avalanche debris revealed nothing. Perhaps they had bivouacked in the route. There is a cave at the crux which could provide some shelter. Cautiously, we probed higher, digging out snow pits to check for active windslab. The further we went the more confident I felt. The fresh snow, though thigh thigh-deep in places, revealed no tendency to fracture. Naturally, there was reluctance at base to give us the green light to climb higher, but we impressed Andrew that we could reasonably scout the gully and then traverse out to the north ridge of Spidean a’Coire Leith.

Charlie and Ryan stayed back to be available to traverse into Coire na Caime if needed there. Moving one at a time Mark and I ploughed between islands of rock. Soon we could see the whole route. It was empty. The mountain now revealed its full profile, blasted clean by the storm with every nook and cranny etched in wind-packed snow. The puzzle of the missing climbers was now as absorbing as it was troubling. Avalanche was no longer the only scenario. A fall on descent was as likely, and in the teeth of a hurricane the climbers would almost definitely have descended from the exit of the route direct into Coire na Caime rather than trying to get over the summit.

Mark and I climbed swiftly up Spidean’s north ridge. At the exit of George we found two tangled ropes and the remains of sandwiches. Our suspicions were confirmed. The two climbers must already have been desperate to have dumped their ropes. We reported the find and suggested an immediate switch of operation to Coire na Caime. With its lochan jewels and ice-scraped terracing this is most the lovely of mountain corries but can turn into a desperate trap in the teeth of a storm, with no path out and no phone signal. Charlie and Ryan began a horizontal traverse round into the corrie. Stornaway Coastguard helicopter was now on scene and would collect more rescuers from Torridon base.

For Mark and I the priority was to check for tracks over the summit. It was important to eliminate that lingering possibility. As we cramponned up the final ridge the NW wind still blew in occasional gusts of 50mph. We found old crampon scrapes around the summit cairn and scouted the “false line” towards Pyramid Buttress where climbers might have strayed and fallen, but there was no conclusive evidence of recent activity. We decided to complete our mission by descending the normal route down the “bum-slides” from the col east of Spidean’s summit. We dug a test snow-pit and again we found no layering. I launched down first. The ride was exhilarating. Within 5 minutes we were 250 metres lower.  Nowhere was there any avalanche debris or recent tracks. For us the last hours had been an intriguing and, dare I admit, satisfying piece of mountaineering. Despite the dread narrative that underlay our mission, we were pleased that on this rescue our efforts had made a genuine contribution to a resolution. So often they don’t.

Then we heard a burst of activity on the team radio. One of the two missing climbers had emerged at Coire Dubh car park and Gerry McP had picked him up in the team bus. He was weak and mildly hypothermic but otherwise unharmed. He had left his friend in Coire na Caime where they had bivouacked through the storm. We dared to believe that both had survived. All that was needed was a quick airlift and this story could end in triumph. Our spirits soared. 
“Tell him that we have got his ropes,” I blurted out in sheer relief.
 Mark and I swooped down the second series of bum-slides and reached the road in 40 minutes.

Gerry picked us up. He had dropped the climber off at the hostel, Charlie and Ryan has spotted a bivouac shelter a few hundred metres away and the helicopter was on its way, but Gerry’s mood was more sombre. 
“His friend was conscious when he left him, but he’d stopped shivering during the night. That’s not good.”

Back at the hostel the climber was re-warming, wrapped in a down jacket, his feet in a warm footbath. He recounted his epic. His friend was the more experienced climber but they had endured a terrible battering from spindrift in the gully. They descended direct to Coire na Caime in darkness and his pal was avalanched on the way down, sustaining minor head injuries. They had bivouacked behind a boulder and he had left to seek a rescue when the wind started to drop at 8am. We could imagine how desperate a night this had been.

The helicopter reported that they were returning with victim and rescuers. With a severely hypothermic patient they would doubtless go straight to Raigmore Hospital. Meanwhile, the first survivor was taken off by the warden to have a shower and change of clothing. Then Gerry took a second radio call from the pilot, and he emerged with solemn face. The outcome was not good. The helicopter paramedic could detect no signs of life.

Our hopes were dashed. There seemed little more that I could do. There were several team members on hand to help deal with the situation and I had nine new course clients arriving in just a few hours. I needed to recover some spirit and strength for an evening of cheery meeting and greeting.

Yet I little imagined what trauma was still to come. The helicopter landed as I drove off. The prognosis was so certain that, instead of heading to hospital, they unloaded the casualty outside the hostel. Almost simultaneously, the wives and parents of the victims arrived at the hostel, unaware of the outcome. The stretcher was taken into the warden’s house where Gerry was able to confirm the death. Other members looked after his friend and the families in the hostel, and then Gerry had to give them the dreaded news. Usually, rescuers can maintain a degree of detachment from the personal drama of a fatality but not in this case.

Martin Moran