Phantom avy info? 04/06/11

I am so pleased that everyone will recover and ski another day.  Thank you for sharing your stories.  This confirms my discomfort with the upper Phantom.  It may be a favorite quick trip for some (although it sounds like most people stay lower down in high avy conditions), but has all the warning signs for me: steep pockets of wind loaded slopes with trees and cliffs below and sun in the afternoon.  

I appreciate the technical side of the discussion, but I find myself drawn more to the psychology of the story.  Experienced backcountry skiers putting themselves in a situation that they knew was pushing the envelope a bit.  I don’t think it’s easy to draw a lesson from this story since being in the mountains in the wintertime requires pushing the envelope at least a little bit.  Although it’s always easy to second guess your decisions after an accident, I think all of us have pushed the envelope at times without incident and never regretted our decision making.  Bottom-line, all we can do is learn from our own mistakes and other’s mistakes and try to be as safe as we can without boring ourselves (e.g., I wouldn’t be happy sticking to sub 30 degree slopes for the entire winter).

The Rescue

The first team on scene was actually a private party, close friends of Roger's, who'd been scrambled by daveb after a text message from Roger alerted him of the situation.  They dropped what they were doing and sprinted uphill just ahead of the formal SAR response.  They must have connected with the SAR coordinators at the trailhead, because they brought up the first Cascade litter and some extra supplies. 

The next teams were only a few minutes behind them with the additional gear necessary to begin the extraction.  Multiple EMTs in the first couple of teams and, to my delight, a paramedic that I work with in Snohomish County.

Everyone should have the privilege of seeing smiling, familiar faces arrive on scene when you're hip-deep in trouble of your own making.  It was an enormous relief and, for me, the moment I really began to spin-down and start to relax.  SMR, SPART, EMRU, ESAR and all the other units did a great job getting us packaged up and moving out.  The whole thing felt more like a happy reunion than an unfortunate accident -- which, I guess, it kind of was.

Once we got moving I fully transitioned over to "subject" -- I briefly offered to help, but there were plenty of people and I didn't want to become a liability, so I hooked up with a friend from SPART and just tried to keep plodding downhill on my loaner snowshoes.  Everyone was in good spirits and Roger was taking advantage of the deep powder to collect his last face shots of the season from the comfort of his litter.  Drew skied out with Dan's skis, my single ski and managed to scrape up one of Roger's as well -- he looked like some kind of bizarre antenna array.

I arrived at the trailhead at 5:45.  Roger got out about an hour later and Dan just after sunset.  The debrief in the command vehicle was fairly straightforward, moreso because I'd been on the phone with several of them a couple of times over the course of the day.  I almost lost it when Anastasia showed up at the trailhead -- she and Andy had tried to deploy into the field, but had gotten caught in the four hour pass closure and arrived at six instead of one thirty.  I wasn't sure whether she was going to punch me or hug me -- thankfully the hug won out.

I know I speak for all our crew when I give enormous thanks to the efforts of everyone who came out to help, as well as those at the other end of the pager who may not have made it out this time, but routinely put forth such effort to help our fellow hikers, climbers and skiers when they're unable to get themselves back to the trailhead.  It was an honor to be on that side of the experience and to see the skills and empathy of everyone involved.

The Mistakes

This is lengthy, so I hope it's coherent.  Apologies if not.

As much as I can, I'll describe the things that we did wrong (or I did wrong) that got us into this situation.  Much of this I've chatted about with others in the group (at particular length with Roger) and I think there's a fair bit of agreement among us, but I want to make it clear that I'm really only speaking for myself.  Dan's already chimed in with his thoughts, which largely echo my own.  I expect some of the others will do the same.

Communication
Far and away the biggest problem was heading out on a High hazard day with an unfamiliar group.  I spend probably 95% of my time skiing with the same half a dozen people.  Having skied so much, for so long, with such a small group, I take for granted how natural and predictable our communication has become.  Chats about objectives, expectations, stopping points, red-flags... all that stuff is just par for the course and typically happens without any prompting.

This is, of course, no reflection on our group -- a great bunch of guys.  There wasn't any "rah rah let's go CHARGE!" vibe at all, it's just that we set no baseline for what the plan was and didn't have a quick group chat at any point about the day.  No "let's discuss again when we get out of the trees" or anything like that -- had we established those open lines of communication and set some expectations, I think we would have been more diligent in our decision making and likely turned around to harvest the goods at the Snot entrance, if not below it in the trees.

Establishing that communication is tough.  To that end, for me, I think I'm going to have to put much more thought into whether I go out with an unfamiliar crew in conditions that require frequent, open discussion among all members.  I think we could have quickly and easily set that up with our group, but we failed to.

In a way, everything else just sort of follows off of that.  I don't feel that there were signs that I was missing, but for whatever reason I had parked my decision-making brain in a much less active place than it typically would be.  Roger and I were chatting at the switchbacks about what we were seeing, talking about the snowpack, but none of that chatting every bumped up to a quick group huddle to talk things over.

New Behavior, Missing Data
Another new element, for me, was the time pressure.  I don't dawn patrol very often and I knew that I had to be back in town by 11.  We were trying to crank our way through the trailbreaking to get a nice run and it was clear that it was going to take a while.  I was making all my usual observations, taking in the snowpack, pole tests, hand pits, switchback cutting, noting the wind, etc etc etc.  This is obviously a great way to get a lot of small points of data as you climb.

The other data which I almost always collect is a few quick pits.  Quick compression and shear tests, then on we go.  But I didn't, and neither did Roger -- he told me yesterday that he typically digs for the same reasons, especially when he's been away from the region for a bit.

Now, I won't pretend that we would've gotten the shear or compression results that Andy posted above (STE, CT10, both Q1), though I will say that any of those results would have kept me down in the trees, no question.  I think the results themselves aren't as important to my point, which is that I was trying to make my usual risk assessment decisions with only, say, 80% of the info I usually have. 

Another way to look at it is this:  I was trying to make a good choice using a risk assessment model I was not as familiar with -- not as good at.  For the sake of expedience, mostly.  The silly part here is that the trailbreaking was so deep that I could have easily stepped out, dug a quick pit, stepped back in and been back with the group in a few minutes...  but I was already sucking wind trying to keep up.  It just didn't occur to me to stop.

The last, and probably most important, side effect of digging a pit?  I'm betting everyone would have gathered up in a safe spot, waited to see what was found, and we would have had a quick pow-wow to discuss the results.

Would they have swayed the decision to continue?  It's impossible to say.  But the lines of communication would have been open and I think that would have made a big difference.  At the very least, it would have given all of us a feel for how the others balanced their risk and choices, which is the most important piece of info we were lacking.

I should add that there are plenty of other things that we might have done a little bit differently, but I think that none of them affect the overall outcome anywhere near as much as what's above.

Wow. Thanks for the excellent write up Marcus, lots of food for thought. I was waiting to hear about the rescue, glad it all worked out in the end, get well soon guys.

I haven't posted here before but the candid recount of the decision making dynamics that Marcus wrote about reminded me of an excellent essay by Ian McCammon on heuristic traps when making decisions in avalanche terrain. This essay shines an objective light on specific 'traps' that skew our personal risk tolerances and/or cause us to defer our own risk assessment and acceptance to others. I've found it to be a nice reminder to vocalize opinions and open up discussion with partners when exposed to objective hazards.

Hope you all find it insightful:

avtrainingadmin.org/pubs/McCammonHTraps.pdf

Cheers,
Peter D.

The silly part here is that the trailbreaking was so deep that I could have easily stepped out, dug a quick pit, stepped back in and been back with the group in a few minutes...  but I was already sucking wind trying to keep up.  It just didn't occur to me to stop.

This line really struck me as it is very analogous to something that happened to me in my closest brush with the white devil.  When my body is under some significant abnormal physical stress (well beyond the expected rigours of a tour/climb) I have found that my thinking becomes frighteningly clouded.  I have learned to be aware of this and have dealt with it successfully.  What had not crossed my mind until now is that this occurrence is not unique to me.  If I see a member of my group experiencing greater than normal difficulty or pain I have to be aware that they may not be thinking at the same level they normally do.  I need to compensate by increasing my level of communcation so that I can draw out what they are thinking and experiencing.  I certainly don't mean to say that you weren't thinking clearly.  I have no idea what your mental or physical state was.  Your statement that it didn't occur to you to stop as you were "sucking wind trying to keep up" got me thinking about my own experiences both personally and as a member of various groups.  Thank you for making that statement as it has caused me to open my eyes to something that could prove important on some future tour.

Thank you Marcus for sharing the whole experience from start to finish in such a lucid way.  I am very glad that everyone lived to ski another day, even if for some that day is months in the future.

Marcus et al: thanks for the candid reports on your incident...they have given pause to all of us I'm sure...

Thanks also to pdelmi for posting the link to heuristic causes and decision making...I don't think I've ever read anything that gave a more insightful analysis into thought processes in the backcountry and why things can go wrong so easily...absolutely excellent material

The Rescue
The first team on scene was actually a private party, close friends of Roger's, who'd been scrambled by daveb after a text message from Roger alerted him of the situation.  They dropped what they were doing and sprinted uphill just ahead of the formal SAR response.  They must have connected with the SAR coordinators at the trailhead, because they brought up the first Cascade litter and some extra supplies. 

FWIW, I'm the daveb mentioned and I'd like to correct Marcus' above statement. All members of the first party were actually acting under the umbrella of Seattle Mountain Rescue (KCSARA) or Ski Patrol.  Fitz and Zac, personal friends of mine and Roger, were "deputized" as it were before we left base. I'd like to shout out to them here as well, as they greatly contributed to the rescue effort. Also thanks to the many SAR individuals that showed up from local units and Everett mtn rescue.

Marcus & Dan - I really appreciate the thought you've put into your open and honest self analysis of this accident. I think this avalanche hits close home for many of us and I know that some will actually take away tangible lessons from your story. So Thanks,

Dave Burdick

Thanks for the correction Dave (and nice to meet you). That explanation makes sense and I was unaware that they did that.

Seeing y'all sprinting uphill (and Fitz's comment about "knowing you're in trouble if the first person to come to your aid is a splitboarder" ) was a huge lift to our spirits.

I am the Doug in the party and I've held off posting until now because I wanted Marcus to complete his incredible recounting of the events [and because the damn administrator of this site wasn't sure he wanted to approve my new account registration, with good reasons that will be obvious soon!].  Marcus and Dan really covered all the details and I can't add much to their accurate and thoughtful assessments – but will still take up the next pages 7 through 12 of this thread…

The part of the story that cannot be overstated enough is how incredible the rescuers were and smoothly the rescue went.  The slide, what slid and decisions that were made/not made is probably what people on this board are most interested in, but my gratitude for the help of the rescuers is where my thoughts keep returning, so that is where I want to start.  After hanging out for six hours with two injured friends during a stormy day (it dumped all day - and snow continued to accumulate at our elevation until around 1400 despite what the lower telemetry data displayed) and then looking down to see a large posse of heroes charging up the slope led by friends Dave Burdick, Zac, Fitz followed by so many incredibly strong, smart and caring mountain people was one of the most amazing things I have ever witnessed.  From a distance, I have always been amazed and humbled by the selflessness of those who drop everything, leave their families and take precious vacation time for no compensation to go put them in harm's way to help strangers.  Seeing the rescue close up made me very aware how much time the rescuers had to put in previously to become so efficient at first response and at technical rescue. 

During haz mat and spill response incidents that I have been a part of (with police and fire professionals), I have witnessed things often getting started awkwardly as chain of command is established and a top alpha dog or dogs emerges, typically in a necessary but weird power struggle.  In this rescue, I saw flawless and quick communication between (mostly) strangers who got Dan's leg in a new traction split (replacing Marcus's improvised but as-good-as-gets split with a "real" traction split - the only difference was probably the comfort to Dan's leg to not have a ski pole lashed to it) and then quickly secured in the litter.   (Dan is so stoic, I think he may have attempted a one legged ski down, but we hid is skis and pretended they were both buried.) 

After both Roger and Dan were secured, a double rope system was used (one primary lower rope and a belay backup) to lower each litter off tree anchors.  The ropes were each 300' long and the anchored lower/belay setup were used for about 1500 vertical feet, so the first part was tedious but went smoothly due to competency of the team and the (mostly) fall line path used.  After entering the old growth below, the lowering was mostly accomplished by having about ten people braking/steering the litters using body weight and ropes (I will never, ever say anything negative about snow shoes again!).

By this point, Drew and I (accompanied by Andy Hill) knew the best thing we could do was get out of the way, let the rescuers do their thing as we slowly skied down through the trees.  Since we were in no hurry (we wanted to be down with Roger but we were having no problem keeping up with him for a change!), we chatted with groups of rescuers (most of whom had no idea we were in the party that got caught) and again and again I was struck by how positive everyone was, how much they were enjoying themselves and how not the slightest criticism was uttered.  After we reached the parking lot, and got a chance to thank (far too few) of folks staffing the base area - I got to hear from several beaming Search and Rescue leaders how they had the best team anywhere - which was not hyperbole from what I witnessed.  I apologize I do not have actual names, but I am eternally grateful for all that participated in the amazing effort!

Although I have never posted on TAY before, I think I have already used my annual allotment of space.  I cannot add much to Marcus'/Dan's recount so I will try to hit a few things not covered thus my thoughts will appear both random and include some info of lesser importance than what has already been said. 
1)  The Familiarity Factor – It is not surprisingly that this is the first heuristic trap listed in the paper linked to by pdelmi (thanks for posting that Peter D.) earlier in this thread.  I would put familiarity as the main reason why were more comfortable making riskier decisions on that day.  Almost 100 times up the same slope by one of the team equates to a lot of the familiarity.  I once skinned up this same slope three times in one day (with rescuer Dave .  Familiarity with this terrain had my mind thinking about how/if we should venture out into the Phantom Slide proper on the ski down since there is always avy debris there, but I have never seen debris in the particular area that slid so I was not thinking as much about our ascent path.   

2)  The Communication Issue.  It would be nice to come across a problem in life that can't be traced back to poor or lacking communication, but the older I get, the less this seems likely.  However, the importance of communication (or lack thereof) in this accident is anyone's guess.  I have toured a lot with Roger so fast movement, rapid assessment and limited communication is the norm (we actually talk and laugh the whole way, similar to this day just maybe not about our immediate environment).  The decision to not ski our objective was probably made collectively in silence and there was universal agreement to this decision when it was verbalized.  If the group consisted of ALL strangers, I assume the communication would actually have been greater but the level of familiarity between some of us made the amount of communication seem normal (to me at least).  I would suggest an equal factor to limited communication (as our lack of previous time together) was related to the strength of the party.  When I tour with my girlfriend (good skier but more risk adverse) or newer skiers - the communication is basically non-stop to the point of maximum safety but also inefficiency.   When I ski or climb with my closest and strongest partners, communication drops behind a collective trust in our collective abilities.  Obviously, unstable snow could care less how experienced we are, how well we ski or how many days we have had so far, so the relative strength and skill of party is something I will try to weight a lot less in the future.   Regarding Marcus’s thoughts about the value of digging a pit to increase the chance to talk more, I can only speculate here but I think that action would not have changed the outcome much.  If we dug a pit (probably in a much less loaded area than slid) I would guess it would not have added to our knowledge much and would have just affirmed our decision to turn around, but going to the  top of the Slot would likely have been proposed as a relatively conservative compromise.  I hate to admit this, but digging a pit may just have afforded me (or someone) the chance to say something regrettable about not being that concerned about dry snow sluffs.  I don’t think I will use “harmless” and “sluff” in the same sentence in the future as I have uttered occasionally in the past.   

3)  Gear notes.  None of the skiers in the party were skinning with pole straps on which may have prevented deeper burials or upper body injuries.  I do a lot of Nordic skiing so I can't bring myself to cut my straps off like lots of avy pros do, but I have thought more about areas where I need to not be strapped in the last few years.   I have used an Avalung for about three years now but have always wondered if I was caught in a slide if I would think to put the mouthpiece in while I am swimming and trying to get my feet below me.  All skiers in the slide did.  I have only thought of a Lung as extending that precious 15 minute period if you are buried, but Marcus hacking up a mouthful of snow after his Lung was ripped out made me aware how getting the mouthpiece in can block the snow from choking you.  Lastly, the binding release question really got a pretty good test in the slide.  Dan's Fritschi's were sheared off at the pivot point (amounting to the only good Fritschi field breakage I have witnessed of many).  Marcus's NTN's released quickly likely sparing him from leg injuries. Roj's O1s - coupled with his big Megawatts - may have played a factor in his injuries.  Although I have always favored the most active/powerful tele blndings (currently on Axls), my main concern with all "non-releasable" tele bindings has always been premature ejection not being retained in the binding.  Although they don't ski exactly the way I like, this incident will have me giving NTN another look. 

4)  Safety gear.  I think the natural progression, especially among alpinists, is to go lighter and lighter.  Interestingly, I keep on adding to my ski repair kit while my first aid kit has been getting anemic  (I have stopped bringing it all together on these "low-commitment" trips - familiarity trap once again).  Marcus had a lot of safety supplies and was extremely competent in their use – the rest of us probably could only watch and learn.  Marcus spoke about how the limited time factor contributed to some of our mistakes.  Well, the Slot dawn patrol has basically become, in my mind, an extended slackcountry trip - so much so - that I often wonder why I really need to take my "real" backcountry back (compared to my so light, so cool, so streamlined slackcountry pack) and anything more than a liter of water, a bar and gloves/goggles on a Slot lap.  With that said, I did have lots of extra warm layers with me that day and they all got used.  It is hard to imagine how much clothing an injured and completely sedentary person needs to stay relatively comfortable waiting six hours on a snowing, mid-twenty degree day.  I had the luxury of being able to move around to generate heat but wasn't wearing much after loaning some layers, or eating anything since I couldn't bring myself to move Dan's femur to get at the food in my pack which was supporting his leg;  so I got a little cold.  Being anywhere else would have probably meant spending a cold night out.  I have since purchased a few extra emergency bags/blankets which I hope will enjoy an uneventful life in the bottom of my pack for years to come.

5)  Skin track spacing.  Even the most novice skier learns the importance of spacing out on suspect slopes.  Being one of the most impatient people alive, I typically seem to follow a repeatable pattern on tours:  keep a good distance across the first few suspect slopes, less space on the next, and when the top is near, say ‘the heck with it’ and get right behind the leader in the skier's version of summit fever.  I owe Drew boatloads of gratitude for his very safe spacing distance and the luck of being behind him in the rotation as we neared the top.  Drew gave more distance than any skier than I have seen, so much so I started to get really cold and used the waiting time at the switchbacks to transition into my downhill action suit.  Drew's example is something I will really follow in the future.  Thank you, Drew.
6)  Tremper confidence vs time graph.  Several people mentioned that graph in this post, and I was speaking about it all day as we waited because I have been thinking about it a lot this year.  Truthfully, my confidence has slowly been declining over this whole year not due to a specific event but because the more time you spend out there, especially during an unstable last 8 weeks like we have seen, the more you realize how weak our avy forecasting ability is.  This event caused a steeper drop in my declining chart.  Now I need to align lower confidence with more caution which were not tracking evenly so far this year. 

If anyone is still awake and reading this, I wanted to end by passing along a little love from Roger.  He has been overwhelmed by the outpouring of support from this great community.  The good vibes experienced around his hospital bed and his house as friends and family came from all over to help has been an incredibly moving experience.  Roj will have a long recovery ahead but he has been truly moved by the love sent his way.  Keep it coming and book a lunch date with the man if your schedule allows. 

Be strong and heal quickly Amigo – playing in the hills just aint the same without you!

Great write-up Doug, thanks for sharing your thoughts. Lots of good stuff there to dig in to.

Rogmahaj:

Roj photo from Feb 2009 at the top of the Snot/Not couloir. (Thanks for the technical assistance Marcus).

If anyone is still awake and reading this,

Read every word Doug and will probably read again. No apologies needed for taking up so much space. Thanks for your observations and organized thoughts as they will no doubt help others be better prepared.

Just wanted to say thanks to Marcus, Dan and Doug for sharing your experience so openly and completely.  Running laps on Mt Snoqualmie has become routine for me and reading the accounts of this incident has already made me re-evaluate my own decision making processes.  Just a few days before this incident I got lucky on the upper Phantom, climbing too high in an intense snow storm.  I noticed that the snow started cracking and I decided that day to turn around very close to where this slide occurred.  On the ski down I was extremely careful in terrain selection but still set off several large sluffs that would have been ugly had I been caught.  At the time I felt relieved to have made it down safely and your candid writing has help me fully process my own experience.  So thank you.

Howdy folks, sorry it took a bit, but I’d like to start by thanking everyone on this post/thread/site for a better than expected positive response to our roadside Dawn Patrol epic; a culmination of many factors that the 5 of us will be processing on different levels for time to come.  HUGE thanks to my 4 amigos, Marcus, Dan, Doug and Drew that made a potential nightmare a very manageable rescue scenario. (I wish I could say self rescue as my mantra is that it’s the responsibility of myself and my partners to get our asses out of any predicament that we put ourselves in)  EXTRA HUGE thanks to all rescue workers involved. Your efforts were beyond superb.  Your communication and respect for each other when having to negotiate and problem solve was impeccable.  When I get your names, I will contact each of you with our gratitude.  Fitz Cahall, Zac West and Dave Burdick, when you first to arrive on scene, it brought me to tears amigos that you dropped everything to run up there and drag my sorry ass off of one of our favorite DP ‘laps’.

I can’t agree more with Marcus, Drew, Dan and Doug’s deep and thoughtful TR’s as they were inspiring and led me to write this; part catharsis as well as food for thought for anyone interested.  I won’t spend any time on being redundant with the well stated details, snow science, logistics, and terrain assessment, as we feel we know quite well what we were getting into upon clicking in at the trail-head, the signs that lead to me triggering the slide, and most everything in between.  I think that we all agree that if one of us pushed for pulling the skins a little earlier, it would have been a different scenario.  Also keep in mind that believe that no matter how much experience, training and success one has in the mountains (or life for that matter) there are no guarantees and if there were, it would seem a bit anti-climactic, almost disappointing and take away the random magic keeps life vibrant.

For those who don’t know me well or at all, this is the first post that I’ve made on any site/forum/blog as a result of not being impressed by the tendency for most interactive sites becoming a downward spiral, or the ‘black plague’ of regional, national or global climbing forums.  On the contrary, I’ve always appreciated TAY’s mostly positive chat, gear, and trip reports without much bottom feeding.  I mostly use TAY and NWAC combined with UW’s global weather models for my winter climbing/skiing bible, using it from the moment I awake until a quick check before bed. 

Those that do know me, probably agree that I’m ridiculously obsessed with the mountains and feel that they are a gift to all of us not to be taken for granted; thanks to my parents for taking me into them at the age of two…I hope to always go to them in search of adventure balanced with humility.  Although rock, ice, mixed and alpine climbing has been and still the main passion driver since my late teens, backcountry skiing has been a close 2nd for at least as long.  For me touring complements and gives a different, almost relaxing perspective relative to the sometimes all out battle of a committing alpine route or big wall.  Could this be one of the reasons why my risk assessment and commitment level may be different than some? And part of why I feel a bit more responsible for not pulling the skins earlier on the upper Phantom? 

Marcus’s summary of mistakes, communication, new behavior and missing data is spot on.  Thank you Andy Hill for professional and easy to read scene investigation plus your honest and sobering thoughts, I would share the same feelings if I was in your position.

A few bullets of reflection;

• Out of the 100+ trips of climbing/skiing on Mt. Snoqualmie, I’ve gladly pulled the plug or completely bailed at the parking lot at least a dozen times in similar conditions or of lesser avi concern; Why was Wednesday different?
• I’m super passionate about tele (and wish everyone would at least give it a chance!) and love skiing/touring on fat skis, ridiculously stiff bindings and boots…could this be part of my why both my knees are destroyed?  Maybe.  Will I continue to ski with the same system?   Absolutely.
• Why didn’t I stick with pulling the plug at the top of the Snot Couloir (aka New York Gulley)? At that point we had slowed down for more precautionary travel and spread out enough between safety zones, then lured into ‘peeking’ down the Slot entrance.  Curiosity ultimately ended in supporting the rest of our mistakes.
• I’m of the school that enjoys the up nearly as much as the down, as it gives the cardio that I crave and allows me to get new perspectives and learn from even the most familiar terrain.  How ironic that my “home Dawn Patrol” nearly wacked me and 4 wonderful friends…a fact that will eat at me (in a productive way) for the rest of my years.
• I feel incredible fortunate that the outcome wasn’t worse or one or more of us being killed.  I’ve lost too many friends to the mountains and the Bering Sea (I was a Crab Fisherman for nearly 21 years), I shutter to think of trying to make sense or justify each case and how we could have joined those statistics.
• As a new father of a beautiful 21 month old girl, I promised my amazing wife Merridy that I would quit soloing completely, and take a 2 year sabbatical from hard alpine climbing expeditions.  Recently fulfilling that commitment, two close friends and I received large support to attempt a new route on the monstrous NE Face of Mt. Dickey (Ruth Gorge, AK) in a couple weeks… obviously now out of the question for me…will my desire and level of commitment for remote alpine big walls change?  This will remain TBD as some of the most deeply intrinsic times in the mountains have been with incredible partners, exploring the biggest challenges on new terrain…even when the route hadn’t been completed or ‘successful’ (success in my opinion is everything that makes the journey, whether you reach the top or not, and coming home alive)

Please feel free to reply on this thread or me directly; This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it., 206-276-5954…as I don’t pay much attention or give much validity to pseudo names…How can anyone have an opinion when no one knows who you are!!??  I want to know who you are so when we see each other in the hills, we have more to share

Thanks all for listening…be safe, follow your heart and take time to appreciate our incredible community, family and friends just a bit more. 

Everlasting thanks to all loved ones with the incredible support you have unselfishly given us at every level.  It’s all of you and the time that I’m blessed to share with you that make life such wonderful ride…

Cheers,
Roj

Thanks for posting, Roger. Here's to a quick and full recovery!

I've been following this thread each day since it started and I appreciate the thoughtful contributions everyone has made, especially those involved in the incident. It's a powerful thing to to think about how we make decisions and relate them to real world consequences.

I feel a little guilty about seeing a bright side to this unfortunate event, but I have to admit it's been a pleasure to hear from you and others in the community who have not been active on TAY in the past. I really appreciate these perspectives.

Can anyone involved in the incident explain the manufacture and use of a traction splint with materials that would normally be carried on a tour?

Thanks for the contributions to the story, Doug and Roger.

Hope everyone heals well and quickly.

Sure.  The model I had in my mind is a Kendrick Traction Device, pictured here:



When I first went through OEC training for ski patrol a few years ago, Pete (one of the instructors) had a short piece of PVC with an eye bolt and some shoelace that he carried with him to make a "KTD" in the field, using a ski pole.  I basically recreated it with these supplies:

Stout BD ski pole (one of Dan's, I think)
The cut-off leg loop (with fastex buckle) from Dan's climbing harness
The cut-off aluminum buckle (plus its webbing loop) from the harness
12" sewn 1/2" spectra runner
Three Voile straps (could have gotten by with two)

The pole is sized to fit the leg, plus enough below the foot for the traction (as in the above pic).  Pole is secured to his hip with the cut-off leg loop, buckling it tight around the groin.  Two wraps of the leg loop go around the handle of the pole, to prevent it from slipping.

The sewn runner went over the boot, loosely around the ankle.  One Voile strap went under the arch, connecting each side of the runner and making an ankle hitch (you can see the factory version above).

The loop for the harness buckle was dropped over the tip of the pole.  The two additional Voile straps are connected together and one end is threaded through the buckle.  The other end is looped through the "ankle hitch".  Connect the two ends and tighten it down.

It certainly provided some relief (though I'll let Dan say how much).  Lacking the climbing harness we could have fashioned a groin strap with a cloth cravat, which is what I'd usually use.  The only thing we didn't do was secure the splint fully to the rest of the leg, because I didn't want to reduce his circulation any more than necessary.  The SAR EMTs took care of that when they showed up and put on the actual KTD.

You can just see the bottom of the setup in a picture Dan has, but it's only on Facebook and I can't link it from here.

This image shows the bottom of the splint that Marcus built for Dan.

Thanks Robert -- I just found the IMG address...

Thanks for posting the description and pictures of the splint. If I were a DEA agent and saw that combination of injury and smile I believe I would come knocking at your door.

Seriously... talk about an easy patient. Maybe I should check my first aid kit and make sure I didn't give him something other than Ibuprofen.

Not that I want to be in an avy, but how lucky to have Marcus there!

Since I saw something about lunch and it seems that people are in the Bellevue area - I'd love to meet anyone for lunch or drinks. I work and live downtown.

I am not doing this so that I can get a first-hand narration but just to 'meet and greet.' IF people want to talk about it - I'll surely listen, but this is not expected or anything.

Cheers
Ivo

“Seriously... talk about an easy patient.” Having the right victim can sure make being a hero a heck of a lot easier.

Excellent thread, great read. Thanks for all who contributed.

I'd like to express my appreciation to all those that contributed to this thread especially those involved in the accident. Hats off to the SAR crew and all those rescuers as well - they never get enough props for the work they do.

There's a lot of great stuff I am going to take away from all this but one point sticks out in my mind. The accident took place in the morning across the street from a ski area and the rescue was initiated almost immediately after the avalanche. However it didn't didn't complete until after dark. Something to think about when you are out on most any tour.

I was benighted on Mt Shuksan for two nights in Oct 1983 while aiding an injured climber from a different party. Bad weather came in our our blue bird day and we endured rain and snow. After that I carried a big medical kit, emergency blanket, etc. After years of not needing all that stuff my "rescue package" slowly got smaller and smaller. This story is a good reminder that can things go wrong.

This image shows the bottom of the splint that Marcus built for Dan.

I'd take a pass on the femur business but I'll have whatever Dan's having.  So glad you are all home if somewhat bunged and wishing a speedy and full recovery to all.  Thanks for sharing your stories.  To the rescuers, huzzah! 

To the rescuers, huzzah! 

Agreed.

This incident reminds me of another avalanche accident I learned about in my ski history research. On April 18, 1954, Bill Degenhardt was caught in an avalanche on Snoqualmie Mountain. About 10 years ago I interviewed his widow Stella Degenhardt (now deceased) and asked her about it. Some notes:

alpenglow.org/ski-history/notes/comm/degenhardt-stella.html

In 1954, Bill Degenhardt was planning to lead a trip up Mt Snoqualmie so he went up with Stella and Loretta Slater on skis to do a little scouting. They had been out of town recently, and while they were gone there had been a warm spell, then a freeze, then snowfall, classic conditions for an avalanche. During their tour the sun came out and warmed the snow. They had stopped for lunch and were about to head home when Bill decided to take a look over a nearby ridge. He later said, "The minute I stepped on the slope I knew I'd made a mistake." An avalanche caught him but he was able to stay on top of it until it went over a small cliff. He broke his pelvis in the ride over the cliff. Stella skied out for help and the Mountain Rescue Council brought Bill out. Stella recalled that it was Easter Sunday. She showed me clippings about the accident from the Seattle Times and P-I on April 19 and 20, 1954.

Bill Degenhardt was one of the pioneers of Cascade climbing before World War II. Mount Degenhardt in the North Cascades is named for him. He was also a strong skier, a two-time winner of the Mountaineers Patrol Race. After the war he was president of the Mountaineers for a time.

I have some pictures of his rescue, from the Ira Spring collection. Alpental didn't exist in 1954. The Mountain Rescue Council pulled him out 16 hours after his accident. His rescuers were friends of his, but they would have done the same thing for anybody. Rescue in the Northwest has a long and honorable tradition. Big thanks to those who continue it today.

[img]http://alpenglow.org/misc/2011/Spring-010220-Bill Degenhardt-collage-1954.jpg[/img]

Left: Bill Degenhardt in the 1950s. (Photo on display in the Mountaineers Mt Baker lodge.) Right: Dr. Otto Trott administers plasma to Bill Degenhardt on Mt Snoqualmie as Kurt Beam assists. Photo courtesy the Spring Trust for Trails (negative #10220).

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Kurt Beam, Otto Trott, Al Krupp, and Wolf Bauer (L-R) rescue Bill Degenhardt in a Stokeski litter after he broke his hip in an avalanche on Mt Snoqualmie, 1954. Photo courtesy Spring Trust for Trails (negative #10222).

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