2005-10-26, 16:26
Der Typ lebt eh schon nicht mehr.
Die Geschichte dazu: (Osman heißt der Hawara)
OSMAN ASSURED HIM THAT ALL WAS SET and then took out his phone and called Fritsch and Gambalie, snowed in at Squaw Valley. "This is it," he told them, "I am going big." He put the phone in a case on his chest and began his countdown. Then he stopped. "You got the spot?" he asked Daisher, who was crouched on the rock, ready to throw a coiled length of the jump line once Osman went over the cliff. "Got it," said Daisher. Osman began another countdown but stopped again and asked into the phone, "Did you guys say something?" No, they told him, go for it, and this time he finished the count and flew from the rock.
"I watched his headlamp disappearing into the dark," says Daisher, "going and going, and in about ten seconds I saw the rope straighten, heard it start to whip - what Dano called flossing the sky - but it did not make the full whipping sound. Then I heard him yell - "Ahhhhhh" - and a crash like a tree had broken in half, and I thought, "Holy shit, he has swung into one of them." I pictured him down there hanging from a limb, injured and bloody. I yelled to him, got on the radio. Nothing. Quiet. Then I started freaking."
Daisher rappelled to the base as fast as he could and followed the beam of his headlamp through the rocks and trees until he finally saw the ragged rope end dangling from branches above him. Then he spotted Osman, lying peacefully on his side. He checked for a pulse and, when he found none, sprinted off through the boulder field to a parking lot pay phone where he made a panicked call to Fritsch. "Dano is dead," he said, crying. "He is on the ground, I just saw him, he is dead."
Die Geschichte dazu: (Osman heißt der Hawara)
OSMAN ASSURED HIM THAT ALL WAS SET and then took out his phone and called Fritsch and Gambalie, snowed in at Squaw Valley. "This is it," he told them, "I am going big." He put the phone in a case on his chest and began his countdown. Then he stopped. "You got the spot?" he asked Daisher, who was crouched on the rock, ready to throw a coiled length of the jump line once Osman went over the cliff. "Got it," said Daisher. Osman began another countdown but stopped again and asked into the phone, "Did you guys say something?" No, they told him, go for it, and this time he finished the count and flew from the rock.
"I watched his headlamp disappearing into the dark," says Daisher, "going and going, and in about ten seconds I saw the rope straighten, heard it start to whip - what Dano called flossing the sky - but it did not make the full whipping sound. Then I heard him yell - "Ahhhhhh" - and a crash like a tree had broken in half, and I thought, "Holy shit, he has swung into one of them." I pictured him down there hanging from a limb, injured and bloody. I yelled to him, got on the radio. Nothing. Quiet. Then I started freaking."
Daisher rappelled to the base as fast as he could and followed the beam of his headlamp through the rocks and trees until he finally saw the ragged rope end dangling from branches above him. Then he spotted Osman, lying peacefully on his side. He checked for a pulse and, when he found none, sprinted off through the boulder field to a parking lot pay phone where he made a panicked call to Fritsch. "Dano is dead," he said, crying. "He is on the ground, I just saw him, he is dead."