Lost on the Mountain: How the Beckwith Disappearance Became Wyoming’s Most Haunting Mystery

A Promise to Call That Never Came

On August 27, 2013, Garrett Beckwith, a meticulous 45-year-old engineer and experienced mountaineer, and his 19-year-old daughter Dela set out for a multi-day climb on Mount Hooker in Wyoming’s Wind River Range. Garrett, a man known for systems and redundancies, had promised his wife, Maryanne, a check-in call via satellite phone at 7:00 p.m.

That call never came.

Maryanne tried to reason with herself at first — maybe the battery had died, maybe they were delayed by a hard pitch. But by Wednesday, with no word for two days, the creeping dread had solidified into certainty: something was wrong. She called the Fremont County Sheriff’s Office, reporting her husband and daughter missing.

The Truck at Big Sandy

Deputy Miles Corbin was sent to the Big Sandy trailhead, the gateway to Mount Hooker. In the parking lot, he found their dust-covered green Ford F-150. Inside the unlocked cab, the scene was almost unnervingly normal — neat maps on the passenger seat, a worn Wind River climbing guide, and, in the glove compartment, two fully charged satellite phones.

That single discovery overturned the obvious accident narrative. Garrett had left behind the one piece of technology that could summon help from anywhere. For a man obsessed with safety, it made no sense.

The Search That Found Nothing

A massive search began immediately. Helicopters swept the cliffs and cirques of Mount Hooker while ground teams scoured trails and drainages. Garrett was an unconventional climber, known to seek out obscure, unlisted routes, so his old climbing partner, Alistair Finch, organized an elite group of locals to check improbable lines the official teams might overlook.

For ten days, they found nothing — no rope, no gear, no trace. Then, an early autumn storm forced rescuers to retreat. The search was suspended and the Beckwith case slipped into the cold files.

Years of Silence and False Leads

Over the next several years, the case remained dormant, surfacing only briefly when new tips emerged.

In 2016, a backpacker fishing off-trail found a weathered climbing nut in a creek miles from Mount Hooker. It matched the brand Garrett favored, but it was a common make and could not be definitively linked to him. The clue went nowhere.

In 2018, an online climbing forum reignited rumors when a user speculated — without evidence — that Garrett staged his disappearance due to financial trouble. A cold case detective reviewed his records and quickly debunked the theory: his business was solvent, his loan payments current, and there was no sign of a planned disappearance. But the speculation had already cast an unwarranted shadow.

The Mountain Gives Up a Secret

For 11 years, the Wind River Range kept its silence. Then, in the late summer of 2024, two modern climbers, Khloe Vance and Ben Carter, attempting a new route on an untraveled face of Mount Hooker, spotted a line of ancient, rusted bolts leading to a small alcove.

Suspended there, anchored to the rock by sun-bleached webbing, was an old portaledge — a portable platform climbers use for sleeping on sheer walls. On it sat a coiled rope, a brittle blue dry bag, and a faded red sleeping bag.

Curious, Khloe eased onto the portaledge and unzipped the bag. Inside, beneath a fleece jacket, lay a human skull.

They photographed the site, marked GPS coordinates, and began a tense descent. The next day, Khloe called 911.

Identifying the Remains

Detective Isabella Rossi of the Fremont County cold case unit knew instantly this could be the Beckwith breakthrough. Accessing the ledge was a logistical nightmare requiring elite technical climbers, a forensic anthropologist, and a helicopter.

Over several days, the team documented and dismantled the site. The gear matched Garrett and Dela’s equipment list — but Garrett’s harness was missing. Inside the sleeping bag, the skeleton was identified as Dela Beckwith.

Forensic examination revealed the critical clue: a catastrophic spiral fracture of her right tibia. The injury would have immobilized her completely.

A Father’s Final Decision

Investigators believe Dela suffered a fall that shattered her leg. Garrett secured her on the safest ledge he could find, wrapped her in the sleeping bag, tied it to the portaledge so she couldn’t be blown off, and left her with their remaining supplies. Then he donned his harness and began a desperate solo descent to get help.

One old-style piton found 500 feet below the ledge marked his path — and was the last definitive sign of him.

Garrett’s Resting Place

Months later, a University of Wyoming wildlife biologist surveying bighorn sheep habitat with a drone spotted blue fabric and scattered bones in a remote, cliffbound basin miles east of Mount Hooker. A recovery team found degraded remains consistent with an adult male of Garrett’s stature.

The key to identification came from a small titanium plate recovered in the dirt — the exact plate Garrett had received during jaw reconstruction surgery after a cycling accident years earlier. Dental and surgical records confirmed the match.

The Final Theory

Detective Rossi’s final report concluded that the Beckwith tragedy was the product of cascading misfortunes:

A climbing accident that immobilized Dela.

Garrett’s attempt to descend quickly in worsening weather.

Disorientation or injury leading him miles off course.

Becoming trapped in an inescapable basin where he ultimately fell to his death.

Dela, stranded on the wall, likely died of her injuries and exposure.

The Unanswered Question

One mystery remains unsolved: Why did Garrett and Dela leave the satellite phones in their truck?

It could have been a simple oversight, or a calculated choice for reasons lost to time. But that decision — made in the calm of the trailhead parking lot — eliminated their only lifeline.

Aftermath

For Maryanne, the discoveries brought a harsh form of closure. She was no longer the wife and mother of the missing; she was a widow who had buried her husband and only child side by side.

A private service marked the end of the search. The story of Garrett and Dela Beckwith is now part of Wyoming climbing lore — a cautionary tale about the indifferent power of the mountains, the razor-thin margin between adventure and tragedy, and the haunting cost of a single forgotten item.

If you want, I can also condense this into a shorter, punchier feature version for a magazine-style true crime piece. Would you like me to do that?