Squamish Climber Stranded After Rappel Miscommunication
A climber was rescued by drone after a rappelling error on the Stawamus Chief. Three experienced out-of-town climbers became separated on descent from the Alaska Highway route, leading to the overnight operation.

A climber was rescued by a drone on the night of September 10 after a rappelling mishap left him stranded 77 meters up the Stawamus Chief in Squamish. According to Squamish Search and Rescue manager Forrest Rynearson, a team of three experienced climbers from out of town had successfully completed the five-pitch Alaska Highway route, graded 5.11d, topping out near sunset.
They began descending using a direct bolted line, tying together two single ropes of different lengths. The first two climbers rappelled simultaneously on individually secured ropes, a technique known as stacking. Each climber believed he was in the lead. As darkness fell, they became absorbed in their tasks.
The Descent Goes Awry
One climber, using a 65-meter rope, spotted a bolted anchor and just reached it. The other, on a 61-meter rope, spotted a separate anchor nearly 70 feet away horizontally and 10 feet lower vertically. Both clipped in and released their rappel devices. Their ropes immediately retracted out of reach, leaving them stranded at separate anchors. The third climber, rappelling on both strands, could only descend 61 meters to join the closer partner.
The two climbers with the ropes tried and failed to throw a line 70 feet horizontally to their stranded teammate. They then attempted a complex rescue plan involving a traverse along the remnants of Astro Ledge. This feature, however, was largely destroyed by rockfall years earlier. Encountering loose rock and exposed fifth-class terrain, they abandoned the effort and called for help around 9 p.m.
A Novel Rescue Option
Squamish Search and Rescue faced difficult choices. They could climb the route at night, commit to a full rappel of the Chief, or attempt a hazardous helicopter longline extraction. Rynearson told Climbing that the area has a reputation for spontaneous rockfall. The team opted for a new method.
"We decided it was worth trying this new idea," Rynearson said, "of attaching a one-millimeter, 100-meter-long rope onto a small drone, which has a load-releasable hook at the bottom." The one-pound drone delivered this thin line, plus a headlamp and jacket, to the stranded climber. He then used it to haul up a proper rappel rope and performed a self-rescue. From a risk-management perspective, it was our best option, Rynearson noted.
Lessons from the Ledge
Rynearson emphasized that the drone rescue was only viable because the climber was conscious, uninjured, and mentally sound enough to rappel alone. He applauded the team's overall decision-making, stating they tried to fix their mistake before calling for help, which prevented a more complex multi-victim scenario.
The core failure was a lack of communication during the stacked rappel. Both climbers assumed they were in the lead without confirming the other's position. A simple call or a decision to wait for each other at the anchors could have prevented the stranding. The incident shows the intense focus required for night descents and the critical need to periodically step back and assess the bigger picture. The rescue, while successful, hinged on a specific set of fortunate circumstances for the stranded climber.





