So, you’re asking about high altitude equipment? Man, that’s a whole can of worms, not just a simple shopping list. I’ve been around the block a few times, and let me tell you, what folks think they need and what they actually need are often miles apart. It’s not just about a harness and a rope, not by a long shot.
My First Real Brush with “Good Enough” Gear
I remember this one job, years ago. We were doing an installation on some pretty tall structures. The kind of heights where if something goes wrong, it goes really wrong. The company line, especially from the higher-ups who never had to go up there themselves, was all about keeping costs down. So, the equipment we started with? Let’s just say it was… basic. The bare minimum to tick a box. We had some harnesses that looked like they’d seen better days, a few lanyards, and that was about it. The attitude was, “Eh, it’ll do. These guys are tough.”
You can imagine, right? It was a bit of a scramble. Trying to make do with gear that wasn’t quite right for every specific task. One type of lanyard for everything, whether you needed fall arrest or just work positioning. It was messy. And honestly, a bit scary if you thought about it too much. We spent more time worrying about the gear than the actual work sometimes.
The Wake-Up Call
Things really came to a head on what I privately called the “Windy Peak Project.” We were supposed to be retrofitting some old broadcast towers. My supervisor back then, let’s just say he was more focused on the bottom line than on the guys dangling hundreds of feet in the air. His favorite phrase was “Don’t gold-plate it!” whenever we asked for better tools or, heaven forbid, specialized safety gear.
I tried. I really did. I’d point out that for certain tasks, we needed specific types of fall arrest systems, not just the generic stuff. I’d show him articles, specs. He’d just sort of pat me on the shoulder and say, “You worry too much. We’ve always done it this way.” Famous last words, right?
Well, one afternoon, nothing catastrophic happened, thank goodness. But one of the older ropes, one that had supposedly been “inspected,” snapped during a load test on the ground. Just like that. Nobody was hurt, but seeing that rope give way… it hit everyone hard. That could have been one of us. It was pure luck it happened on the ground during a test and not with someone’s life depending on it.
That was it for me. I’d had enough of “good enough.” That evening, I went home and just started researching. I dug into regulations, best practices, looked at what proper rigging companies were using. I wasn’t going to let someone else’s penny-pinching put my crew or myself at risk.
Making the Change, The Hard Way
The next Monday, I went in with a whole proposal. Proper harnesses for different types of work, energy-absorbing lanyards, decent helmets (not just cheap hard hats), ascenders, descenders, a solid rope access plan, the works. And a plan for actual, regular inspections by someone who knew what to look for, not just a tick in a box.
My supervisor nearly had a fit when he saw the potential cost. “Are you trying to bankrupt us?!” he yelled. There was a lot of back and forth. It wasn’t pleasant. He even implied I was trying to make trouble or something. But after that rope incident, even he couldn’t totally ignore the elephant in the room. And thankfully, a couple of the senior guys on the crew backed me up. They’d seen enough too.
We didn’t get everything I asked for, not right away. But we got the critical stuff. And we got training. Proper training. It was a fight, but we got it.
And you know what? Once we had the right gear, and knew how to use it, work actually got smoother. Faster, even. Guys were more confident. Less fumbling, less making do. Funny how that works, isn’t it? Invest a little in safety, and you often get it back in efficiency.
What I Stick To Now
So, because of all that, I’ve got my own way of looking at high altitude work and the equipment that goes with it. It’s not rocket science, just stuff I learned, sometimes the hard way:
- You absolutely have to know the specific risks. Not just “working at height,” but what kind of work, what are the fall paths, what are the rescue scenarios. Each job is different.
- Never, ever cut corners on Personal Protective Equipment. That harness, that rope, that helmet – it’s literally what’s between you and a very bad day. Get the good stuff, suited for the task.
- Training isn’t a one-off. People need to know their gear inside out. How to inspect it before every single use, how to wear it, how to use it, and what its limits are. And regular refreshers.
- Inspect, inspect, inspect. And document it. If it looks iffy, it is iffy. Take it out of service. No second chances with this stuff.
- Always have a rescue plan. And practice it. “What if?” is a question you need a solid answer to before anyone goes up. Hoping for the best isn’t a plan.
That supervisor? Heard he moved on to another company a while later. And guess what? Word got around they had a serious incident, something about cutting corners on… you guessed it, safety equipment and procedures. Some folks just don’t learn. But I did. That whole mess taught me that “high altitude equipment” isn’t just about the gear itself. It’s about a whole culture of safety, from the top down. And I don’t compromise on that anymore. Not for anyone.