Out Alive: Busted

Amber Kohnhorst, 25, fell 100 feet in Cane Beds, Arizona, on May 20, 2016. She was photographed three months after her fall. It was only her first week off bed rest.

- Carolyn Webber

My feet touched the summit of the sandstone bluff and I paused, alone, proud and stunned by the distant view of Zion National Park fanning out before me. It was just as beautiful as I’d imagined. When I went to descend along the edge of an 800-foot cliff, I realized I couldn’t downclimb the way I had come up. Take a breath, I told myself. If I could climb this, I can find a safe way down. I hopped between boulders and stemmed down a slot. My eyes set on the sun melting on the desert landscape. Then, everything went black.

When I woke up an hour later, I felt shattered. A pool of sticky blood surrounded my head like a halo. I lay trapped in the bottom of a smooth-walled pit with an empty water bottle. It was getting dark. Only my Airbnb hosts knew where I’d gone.

My plan was to stay in the small town of Cane Beds, on Arizona’s northern border, for a week in May, volunteering at the Best Friends Animal Sanctuary in Kanab, Utah. I’m from Minnesota originally, and I’d hoped to spend all my free time exploring the canyons, cliffs, and desert terrain I’d never seen before. I was barely in town an hour before I set out. I could hear my mother’s advice to never hike alone, but I just couldn’t wait.

I got a recommendation for a nearby hike—an easy one, since I’m not used to high altitude or slickrock—and off I went.

After gaining about 600 feet over a little less than a mile, I’d had my fill. I sat, took a swig of water, snapped some photos, and began my descent. Just then, I caught sight of a bulbous sandstone escarpment that I couldn’t resist.

The rock was grippy and stair-like in places. I climbed by adrenaline and happy mountain vibes, energized by how well I was moving.