Between a Rock and a Hard Place - Aron Ralston [131]
From: Jason Halladay
Sent: Wednesday, April 30, 2003 11:40 A.M.
To: Brion After
Subject: RE: Looking for Aron Ralston
Brion,
Hello again. I checked my home e-mail and last I heard from Aron was April 23rd reporting on his trip on Quandary. He didn’t mention plans for the upcoming weekends but earlier this year he mentioned the following canyons as trips he’d like to do in Utah:
Canyons:
Black Box of San Rafael;
Virgin River in Zion;
Cable/Seger canyons (San Rafael area);
And any other technical slots listed as “best of” in Kelsey’s books (do you have the San Rafael Swell book?—it’s excellent).
You’re right, he may just not have known about his work schedule and hopefully we see him tomorrow night in Georgetown but it would be out of character for him to forget his work schedule and not keep in touch with at least someone.
Thank you, again, for contacting us,
Jason
Brion came back in the office and discussed with Elliott whom to call next. Brion offered, “From what I know, Brad Yule was the last person who saw Aron. But I don’t know how to get ahold of him.”
Elliott exclaimed, “You gotta be kidding me. I’ve got his cell-phone number right here.” Whipping his cell phone out of his pocket, Elliott looked up Brad’s number and then called him on one of the office lines, catching him at the Denver airport, ready to board the connecting leg of his flight to Atlanta.
“Hey, Brad. I’ve got a question for you. Aron didn’t show up for work yesterday or this morning, and we’re really starting to worry about him. We’re trying to get information to give the police so they can start a search. It seems like you were the last person to see him. Do you know where he went? What’s the best information you have from him when you talked?”
Brad recalled the ski trip on Mount Sopris for Elliott, including the information that we’d gotten my truck stuck on the drive out, and that I’d departed for the desert but I hadn’t been specific about my destination.
“We thought we were going to hear from him before the party Saturday, but he didn’t call, and then we didn’t really make it to the party, either.”
“OK. Do you remember what he had in his truck?”
“He had his mountain bike and his skis on his roof rack, and he had his climbing stuff with him and his skiing stuff and camping gear.”
“Was he going out for more skiing?”
“No, I’m pretty sure he was going to do some canyoneering.”
“Oh, OK. The police want to know what his stuff looks like. Like his backpack and jacket.”
“I don’t remember, exactly, but hey, Elliott, I’m on the plane, and I have to go. I’ll think about it and call you when I get to Charlotte.”
On the plane, Brad got out his digital camera and reviewed the pictures from Mount Sopris, double-checking which backpack I’d had with me that day and which jacket I had been wearing, making some mental notes to share with Elliott when he landed in North Carolina.
Just before talking with my sister, at 11:43 A.M., my mom sent a message to the Denali team members from her account. Using the addresses from an e-mail she and Michelle had found in my in box, she requested any info they had, as Brion had already done. Jason Halladay called her from the Los Alamos National Lab, where he had returned to his job as a computer technician, to give her the same information he had sent to Brion. My mom went down to the basement and retrieved a road atlas, marking down the locations of Zion National Park and the San Rafael Swell on the map. Jason tried to help her as best he could, but he didn’t know the exact locations of a few of the canyons. He needed his canyoneering guidebook, but that was back at home.
Elliott relayed my last