Date of Event: 7/15/1993

Canyon involved: Kolob Canyon

Region: Utah Zion National Park

Country: USA

Submitted by: Dave Nally

Source: “Deaths & Rescues in Zion National Park” by Dave Nally

Injury: Fatality, Hypothermia. Psychological. Edema.

Cause: Fall or slip. High water flow. Exposure. Miscommunication about higher water flow coming down Kolob Creek combined with inexperience and poor judgment.

Description of Event: It was midsummer―July 15, 1993―in Zion’s Kolob Canyon. Three men and five teenage Explorer Scouts from Salt Lake City started off on a multi-day adventure on one of Zion’s most spectacular, but most dangerous drainages. Little did they know that this adventure would turn into an epic, tragic disaster.


Kolob Creek flows southeast towards the North Fork of the Virgin River through Kolob Canyon, and it is usually a trickle during the middle of summer (except after thunderstorms, of course, when it will certainly flash flood). However, there was little chance of flash flooding for this group, because the weather forecast for the surrounding area was sunny, sweltering, nearly 90 degrees, and with little chance of precipitation. In spite of the toasty summer conditions, cold water with temperatures in the 40s flows through Kolob Canyon most of the year, due to the creek being fed by Kolob Reservoir, which sits just a few miles above the canyoneers at 8,100 feet above sea level. In the summer, usually a small amount―less than five cubic feet per second―comes trickling down the deep, narrow slot, providing beauteous canyon conditions. However, canyoneers also need to be ready for technical waterfall rappels, cold water swims, and changing canyon conditions that require the natural abilities to make life-or-death adjustments quickly and on-the-fly.


The group of Explorers had a permit from Zion National Park, and they were prepared―they had acquired skills in camping, rappelling, climbing, and hiking in cold water. In addition, they were all wearing wetsuits to insulate their bodies from the cold-water temperatures. Twenty-eight-year-old David Fleisher, the group’s leader, was confident, because he had done Kolob Canyon on two previous occasions.


The three adult group leaders were promptly forced to consider their predicament after getting down to the bottom of the first rappel, because the typical ankle-deep flow was moving swiftly past their knees. That much water was not supposed to be coming down. When they picked up the permit, park officials had told Fleischer that the water level was safe. However, the flow that they were standing in seemed like it was excessively high. (Certainly, it was higher than Fleischer had experienced in his previous descent). On that day, the creek was actually roaring down Kolob Canyon at a flow of nearly 30 cfs, instead of the normal summer flow of 5 cfs. This much water does not sound like a lot, but it made movement very laborious and unsafe, and communication―even by yelling between the party members―was nearly impossible, because the roar of the water in the canyon was so deafening.


The group pressed on the best they could, hoping for a dry spot where they could regroup and re-assess the situation, because it had become obvious that they were in over their heads. They came to a short, eight-foot “nuisance rappel”―a term used in the canyoneering community when the drop is barely long or dangerous enough to warrant the use of a rope.

Fleischer, being the group’s leader, rappelled first to check out the pool below. As he landed in the whirlpool at the bottom of the rappel, the others atop could see that he was in serious trouble. Fleischer was being thrashed by the water coming down, making it difficult to disconnect the rope from his climbing harness. At the same time, his backpack strap had slipped up and around his neck, and it was strangling him.


The second leader, 37-year-old Kim Ellis, instinctively jumped from the top of the eight-foot drop into the pool, and managed to free Fleischer from the entanglement; but as this occurred, Ellis slipped and hit his head. He went straight to the bottom of the whirlpool. Immediately, the third leader, 35-year-old Mark Brewer, naturally jumped in too, and he helped get Ellis out of the whirlpool. However, in spite of Ellis being underwater for less than two minutes, and after the two other men performed 30 minutes of CPR, Ellis did not revive.


Since retreating or climbing out was not an option in the narrow dungeon, the two remaining leaders were then unsure of what to do. The truth is, in situations like that, nature provides the only options―and in those narrow aqueous corridors, the only way out for the group was to follow the water down.


The two remaining leaders rigged a rope so that the five boys could get safely down to them, while avoiding the lethal waterfall and whirlpool. The first boy to come down was the 14-year-old son of Ellis. He, and the rest of the group, certainly were in a state of shock. The group gave him a few minutes to say goodbye to his dad, before having to press on. At that point, the seven survivors were in survival mode, and had little choice but to continue down canyon.

They had to leave behind the lifeless body of Ellis, so they propped it up against a log that was out of the current in a semi-dry spot. The group moved on―continuing down two more drops that required rappelling. By the time they reached the fourth rappel (with eight more still to go in the next half-mile), they had been in the water for two hours, but had only made 150 feet of downstream progress. The anchor rigging, rope work, and rappelling in a watery canyon can be very time-consuming and exhausting―especially with a large group that has members with varied levels of skills. To make matters worse, the group progressively lost six of their eight backpacks along the way―some of them were tossed down and swept away, before those below could grab them in time. Those packs held all the provisions and several days of food for the group.


At the fourth rappel, Fleischer tested the depth and the force of the whirlpool below, by tossing one of the remaining packs down with a rope attached. The whirlpool below was so strong, that none of them could pull the backpack free from above. Fleischer decided to jump down to the far side of the pool, swim back to grab the pack, and pull it over to the other side of the pool, where the current was less intense. If the pack and the rappelling rope were set at a horizontal angle across the pool, he assumed that he could act as a safety anchor to help the boys get across the whirlpool to the far side, and thus avoid the waterfall. He jumped, and his plan worked―he managed to get the pack free and across the pool.


All was well as he was resting on the far side of the pool with the backpack under his arm, until suddenly the whirlpool’s violent current sucked the pack away from him. Instinctively, he lunged after it, and almost immediately, both he and the pack were sucked down into the whirlpool below the pounding waterfall. The group―paralyzed by being so close, yet so far away―stared down in horror for a while, hoping that Fleischer would resurface. Unfortunately, he did not.
Brewer was then the last remaining adult leader, and had to decide whether to leap in and try to find and save Fleischer while risking his own life, or to remain with the terrified boys. After a moment of extra shock, he told the boys that Fleischer was probably dead, and that they should come back away from the top of the falls. The only choice that the remaining group of six had, was to stay put and to hope for a rescue.


The air temperature in Kolob Canyon was cool, even though it was summer, because the canyon bottom seldom sees more than an hour of sunlight per day. The water temperature was frigid too―for even with wetsuits (which are membranous and keep the skin constantly wet), the boys shivered as air temperatures plunged to 40 degrees that night. To keep themselves occupied, the boys built a small ledge out of rocks, where they could take turns getting out of the cold water; and they huddled up and slept on top of each other to keep warm. With Ellis’ body 30 feet above them on a log, and Fleischer’s body 15 feet below them somewhere in the unmerciful whirlpool, the nightmarish scenario felt like a cruel death-trap in a prison of stone and water. With the one remaining backpack, the group rationed out a dozen bars, some oatmeal packets, fruit rollups, and raisins. For the next four nights and five days, they stayed alive―even managing to stay somewhat positive―by singing songs and praying aloud.


After the group had failed to show up after the third day, distraught family members called the park, and Search and Rescue teams were dispatched. The six survivors heard and saw helicopter search teams repeatedly flying overhead, but they were never spotted from above, because they were more than a thousand feet deep in a dark slot canyon. Despite the dampness, they somehow were able to light a smoky driftwood signal fire from the last of their matches; however, the smoke never rose high enough for searchers to even notice. The boys would look up and scream as loud as they could, but none of the searchers could hear them either.


Finally, on July 19, the fifth day of being in the canyon, the water level suddenly dropped around them. Soon after, search teams from Washington County and Zion National Park were finally able to get through the canyon, and look for the surviving six down through the bottom of the canyon. A rope dropped down next to the group, and they knew their prayers were answered, as rescuers rappelled down to them. Waiting helicopters shuttled the group and Ellis’ body back to Zion. Two of the boys had edema in their legs and feet―caused from wearing their tight wetsuits for so long, and had to be briefly hospitalized. Fleischer’s body was not found until 11 days later, when a searcher discovered it further down canyon. The names and ages of the teenage survivors are Shawn Ellis, age 14; Rick Larson, age 16; Josh Nay, age 16; Mike Perkins, age 17; and. Chris Stevens, age 15.


This terribly sad tragedy in Kolob Canyon was a landmark event. It actually forced changes in some of the operating policies and procedures in the park. After the families sued and each settled out of court―first for $750,000 from the Washington County Water Conservancy District (WCWCD), and then for another $1.5 million from the National Park Service―changes were implemented to hopefully prevent that kind of catastrophe from occurring again, even though no admission of liability from the two agencies was agreed upon, as a part of the settlement. The park looked into taking a more proactive, regulative, and preventive stance in issuing canyoneering permits, especially for the dangerous slot canyons, that dot the park. Better communication lines were set up between the water district and Zion, so that release schedules from the reservoir and the amount of water coming down Kolob Creek would be ascertained by all. In addition, a strict policy and warning―to not canyoneer through Kolob Canyon if the water flow was greater than 5 cfs―was also implemented.


Despite the “blame” mainly falling on the two agencies, this does not relieve individuals and groups from taking personal responsibility for their own safety. According to Ray O’Neil, Zion’s Plateau District Ranger, the biggest change that occurred, as a result of the lawsuit, was a larger emphasis on the need for visitors to take greater responsibility for their own safety. For example, in the Kolob tragedy, the group saw the higher flows in Kolob Creek, but chose to continue. O’Neil also stated, “An off-duty park employee was aware of the higher flows, but was not aware that the WCWCD expected him to pass the information on to the permit-issuing desk. Zion National Park settled the lawsuit, in order to avoid creating some sort of absolute liability, where any knowledge of any hazard by any employee would have to be passed on to all employees and to all visitors.” The reasoning is that absolute liability would make managing risk on public lands virtually impossible and impracticable for the agencies involved.
Ultimately, as a canyoneer, being properly prepared, equipped, and informed is paramount; and is the responsibility of each person who enters the park, walks its trails, hikes its remote backcountry, and uses ropes or aid in any dangerous, technical areas.

Analysis: Some canyoneers are accustomed to canyons with pools of water. These may involve little risk. But if the water level is slightly higher, flowing over rocks; hydraulics can form which are significantly more dangerous than just a pool. Some canyons require more detailed preparation such as accurate current flow of water and what flow prevents a group from descending.