A THOUSAND STINGS

The only way to save his friend from the killer bees was to climb up the mountain and back into the swarm

- Nicholas Hune-Brown

The rock hills of Hueco Tanks rise dramatically above the scrubby Chihuahuan Desert in West Texas— four masses of weathered syenite that have long been a rock climbing paradise.

In May 2015, Doug April was finishing a six-month stint as a camp host at Hueco Tanks State Park, living by himself in an RV. The lanky 46-year-old was divorced with three kids, the youngest in junior high. He had served two tours of duty in Iraq, where he saw plenty of things that were hard to forget. Throughout it all, climbing had been a refuge. Out on the rock, he could turn off his buzzing mind and just concentrate on what was in front of him.

Now that respite was coming to an end. April had officially left the army three weeks earlier, retiring as a major, but he wasn’t through with war zones. In a few weeks, he was headed to Afghanistan for three months to fly reconnaissance missions as a private military contractor. He wanted to make the most of his last days of climbing.

Around 8:00 a.m., April’s climbing partner, Ian Cappelle, pulled up to the campsite. The 38-year-old geologist had moved to El Paso with his wife, Malynda, five years earlier. Shortly after, while out climbing, he’d met April. They’d been buddies ever since.

Burly and bearded, Cappelle didn’t necessarily look the part of a climber. But as soon as he’d tried the sport, he was hooked. He regarded April as a kind of big brother—an experienced climber and generous teacher.

“What should we do today?” April asked as they packed their ropes that morning.

“Well, you’ve been up Indecent Exposure twice already,” Cappelle said. “I’d like to do that route.”