Long Night on Shasta

The climb was the climax of a weekend of skiing and mountain climbing by the Stanford University Alpine Club. In charge was a young (21) but expert mountaineer, Jon Lindbergh, son of the famed flyer and a marine biology student at Stanford. By 12,200 ft., all except Edgar Hopf had switched to spiked crampons. He was still on skis and in the lead when he slipped and tumbled backwards.

Lindbergh ax-jumped on to the ice chute to try to grab him, but Hopf's body flashed by. It left a trail of blood for 800 feet. Hopf was still breathing when they reached him. Lindbergh eased Hopf on to lashed skis for the tortuous descent.

In 75 minutes they made 500 feet.

Lindbergh ordered one member of the party full speed down the mountain for help. As the sun went down, they cut ice blocks to make a rude shelter against the wind in the 11,000-ft.-high snow fields. For ten hours Lindbergh and other members of the party took turns at artificial respiration.

Rangers found them in the morning, but it was too late. Lindbergh helped lash the body on the rescuers' toboggan and led the way back down the mountain. Newsmen and photographers were waiting, but he ignored them as he pulled his friend's body toward the coroner's truck. Then, turning his back on newsmen, he sprinted-down the slippery road to a friend's car and sped away.

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