It began as a rite of passage. Fourteen-year-old Zane Wach, a California teenager and endurance athlete, set off on an ambitious 19-hour mountain trek along the Sierra Nevada’s most iconic peak, Mount Whitney. Accompanying him on the climb was his father, Ryan Wach—a moment of bonding, challenge, and shared pursuit. But what was intended to be an introduction to the world of mountaineering instead spiraled into a harrowing tragedy. Over the course of the daylong trek, Zane began to hallucinate. He saw “snowmen” and “Kermit the Frog.” Then, in a moment both surreal and horrifying, the teen walked off a cliff—falling 120 feet. He survived, but barely. Now in a medically induced coma, his story stands as both a stark warning and a testament to human resilience.
Chapter 1: The Climb Begins
June 10, 2025. The day began like so many others in California’s high country—clear skies, the smell of granite and pine, and the majestic outlines of the Sierra Nevada etched sharply against the horizon. Mount Whitney, towering at over 14,500 feet, is the highest summit in the contiguous United States. For many, climbing it is a bucket-list accomplishment. For Ryan and Zane Wach, it was more than that—it was a challenge they would tackle together.
Zane, though just fourteen, was no stranger to endurance. According to his father, he was a seasoned athlete, with regular competition experience in distance running, swimming, and triathlons. Physically, Ryan admitted, “He’s in better shape than I am.” Mount Whitney would be the next frontier—a way to introduce Zane to the world of mountaineering through a demanding but achievable challenge.
As the pair ascended, they tackled some of the most grueling segments of the trail: scrambling over granite cliffs, negotiating loose rock, and climbing thousands of feet into thinner air. Yet despite the rigor, they successfully reached the summit and began their descent in the late hours, still feeling accomplished.
But by then, the true danger had only just begun.
Chapter 2: Symptoms of the Altitude
The descent should have been straightforward. Having completed the hardest part of the climb—reaching the summit—Ryan and Zane just needed to retrace their path back to the trailhead. But as the hours wore on, the high elevation began to exact its toll on Zane.
Ryan would later tell SFGATE that his son began experiencing signs of altitude sickness, though initially, they seemed mild. “It was not too severe,” Ryan remembered. Nonetheless, caution prompted them to begin the trek back down the mountain.
What unfolded next was a gradual deterioration—not just of Zane’s physical condition, but of his mental clarity.
He started to hallucinate.
“He said he saw things like snowmen and Kermit the Frog,” Ryan recounted. Even more disturbing, Zane understood that what he was seeing wasn’t real. There was a creeping awareness of unreality in him—an internal fracture between experience and logic.
This was no ordinary fatigue or dehydration. Something deeper was happening.
Chapter 3: The Slide into Disbelief
Altitude sickness is not rare on Mount Whitney. At elevations above 8,000 feet, even experienced hikers can become disoriented. Dr. Puja Vithalani, a family medicine physician, told News3lv that symptoms can include confusion, altered speech, and a general sense of disconnection from reality. “You can maybe be speaking and not make as much sense,” she explained.
By the time Ryan and Zane had descended to about the 10,000-foot mark, the teen’s symptoms had escalated dramatically. At one point, Ryan recalled, Zane started to believe they had already finished the hike—multiple times.
“He told me he couldn’t tell if he was dreaming or not,” Ryan said. “He would shake his head in disbelief, like, ‘This is not real.’ Like he was in the movie Inception or something.”
Zane’s hallucinations were no longer just visual; they were existential. He doubted reality itself. He questioned whether the world around him was even real. It was a psychological break—likely caused by the complex cocktail of altitude, exhaustion, sleep deprivation, and dehydration.
Ryan tried to keep his son grounded in the real world. But the boy was slipping away.
Chapter 4: Six Miles from Safety
Despite Zane’s confusion, the pair pushed forward. At one point during the descent, Zane seemed to feel “considerably better”, giving Ryan hope that they were past the worst of it. They were still six miles from the trailhead, but that sense of improvement made them continue at a steady pace.
Then, an hour later, Zane’s condition deteriorated again—sharply. His grip on reality weakened further. The hallucinations intensified. His speech became less coherent. And the landscape around them—rutted, uneven, and unforgiving—offered no margin for error.
At that stage, help appeared on the trail: a group of fellow hikers encountered the father and son and recognized the seriousness of Zane’s condition. They stopped and offered assistance, even helping call for emergency help.
But help would take time.
What no one could predict was how quickly the worst would unfold.
Chapter 5: The Fall
In an instant that defied comprehension, Zane walked off the edge of the trail—a 120-foot drop yawning before him.
Ryan was just behind. “I didn’t see how there would be a way for him to survive it,” he said. “So I screamed.”
As he rushed toward the edge, Ryan was certain he had just witnessed his son’s death. The drop was steep, the terrain rocky, the fall unforgiving.
But in what can only be described as a miracle, Zane was still breathing.
The fall had left the teen with severe injuries: head trauma, a broken ankle, a broken finger, and a partially fractured pelvis. But he was alive.
Chapter 6: Rescue in the Wild
Within moments, help began to mobilize. Among the hikers nearby was an EMT, who stepped in to evaluate Zane’s injuries and begin coordinating efforts to get him the emergency care he needed.
But even with help on the scene, rescue crews would not arrive for another six hours. That’s six hours of waiting, hoping, and holding on.
Eventually, Zane was airlifted to Southern Inyo Hospital in the nearby town of Lone Pine, a small medical center serving the remote mountain region. From there, he was transferred to Sunrise Children’s Hospital in Las Vegas—a facility better equipped to handle the extent of his injuries.
Doctors placed him in a medically induced coma to stabilize his condition and give his brain a chance to heal from the trauma. His family, meanwhile, began the long vigil by his side.
“We still don’t know what caused it,” Ryan said of his son’s altered mental state. “My best guess is a combination of exhaustion, sleep deprivation, probably some dehydration and lasting effects from the altitude sickness.”
But he added: “It’s going to be a survival story in the end. Right now, we’re still in the middle of it.”
Chapter 7: What Altitude Does to the Brain
The symptoms Zane experienced are consistent with Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS)—a potentially serious condition that can affect even fit, experienced hikers. While AMS usually starts with headaches and nausea, it can evolve into High Altitude Cerebral Edema (HACE), a swelling of the brain that leads to confusion, hallucinations, and even coma.
Ryan’s report of Zane losing track of reality, seeing hallucinations, and doubting his own consciousness are textbook indicators of cerebral effects caused by prolonged exposure to high altitude. Factor in 19 hours of physical exertion, limited oxygen, and an athlete who—despite his conditioning—was still just 14 years old, and the outcome becomes clearer.
Zane’s breakdown wasn’t a result of inexperience or recklessness. It was a perfect storm.
Chapter 8: Aftermath and Unanswered Questions
In the days following the fall, the Wach family was inundated with messages of support from across the hiking and triathlon communities. A GoFundMe campaign was set up to help offset the cost of their ongoing travel, medical expenses, and lodging. Over $26,500 had already been raised to support the family during their time in Las Vegas.
The campaign’s description spoke directly to the ordeal: “Donations will help ease the burden of their travel costs, such as gas expenses to and from CA to Las Vegas, lodging, and meals.”
The hospital stay remains indefinite. Zane’s future—his recovery, his neurological outcomes, and his physical rehabilitation—is still unfolding.
But his survival is already extraordinary.
Chapter 9: A Cautionary Tale in the Mountains
For those familiar with high-altitude climbing, Zane’s story is more than a miracle—it’s a cautionary tale. Even fit, prepared individuals are vulnerable to the unseen dangers of altitude.
Zane had all the right preparation. He had the physical conditioning. He had his father alongside him. He had made it past the summit.
And still, it wasn’t enough to protect him from the silent, creeping effect of elevation on the brain.
As Dr. Vithalani reminded, “Even experienced hikers” are at risk above 8,000 feet. The brain, when deprived of oxygen, doesn’t just tire—it distorts. It lies. It convinces people of false truths.
And in Zane’s case, it nearly convinced him to walk into oblivion.
Chapter 10: Between Dream and Survival
Today, Zane lies in a hospital bed in Las Vegas, unconscious but alive. His father sits by his side, replaying the climb again and again in his mind—the moment they started, the signs he missed, the hallucinations that seemed benign at first, the moment his son stepped into the air.
“It’s going to be a survival story in the end,” Ryan said.
But it’s also a story of fragile thresholds—between consciousness and confusion, between the real and the imagined, between endurance and exhaustion, between life and death.
Zane walked that line—literally—and somehow, he’s still here.