Random Stuff: Some SAR, Some Sorta

So, we haven't had what I'd consider a major SAR mission in a little while (though we've had some calls that were canceled before we got to the scene), but the team has been busy, especially with the annual Basic SAR Academy going on. It's a pretty large class—around 30 students this year—so quite a few of us existing members have been helping to teach.

Today was compass day, with the morning in the classroom and the afternoon in the field, where students plotted coordinates, obtained bearings and distances, and then navigated to a number of points using their compasses and by pacing and comparing the terrain to their topo maps.

I think most of the class is getting the hang of these navigation skills. They've already been through the personal safety and map classes. Next up is basic GPS and then tracking, followed by ATV training and, finally, a day-long field exercise: a mock search and rescue mission. Once all of that is complete, the new recruits will be added to the call-out list and able to respond to the real thing.

And what else can I share?

Well, this past Wednesday morning, a friend of mine on the team called around 11:00 and asked, "Are you on your way?"

"Huh?" I said. "On my way to what?"

"The call-out," she replied. "For the lost hiker off 180."

I didn't get any call. No phone call, no email. Strange.

So I hung up, dialed the SAR line and said, "This is Deb. I did not get a call, and I did not get an email, but I happened to get a call from Liz about the mission, and I am responding." Then I quickly changed from my PJs (it had been a lazy morning) into my SAR stuff and was out the door and at the building in about 15 minutes. I pulled up at the same moment as Liz. Strange, I thought, no one else was there yet, and it had taken her at least half an hour to drive across town.

That's when Liz double-checked the text message and realized the date of the call had been September 19th. But her phone had just rung. Odd. So we were four days too late. (That mission, by the way, happened while we were at the SAR conference in Heber. Apparently, it wasn't a big deal. I heard the subject was lost along a Forest Service road but easily found by my teammates who responded.) So I called the SAR line back and said something like, "Uh... this is Deb again. Cancel that last message. There was a little goof with the text."

Well, at least it had gotten me out of my pajamas.

Oh—and I have no idea why I'm sharing this, but—about that Grand Canyon search earlier this month, I think I mentioned that I was a wee bit nervous along parts of the Tonto Trail where there was significant exposure to a very long way down. Well, to be honest, instead of "wee bit nervous," make that (insert expletive) scared! I mean, the trail was about a foot wide for long stretches with no way to put any distance between myself and the sheer drop. No vegetation or rocks as visual barriers, either. And the trail was that hard-pack stuff with loose gravel on top—you know, the kind of surface where you'll be walking along and suddenly, without warning, your foot will slip out from under you, and the other foot and then the rest of you will immediately follow? Yeah, that kind of stuff.

So, I have to admit that I rather feebly called out to my search-mate who was ahead of me. He kindly retraced his steps to where I was frozen and let me walk right behind him with one hand on his pack as I stared at his feet. We took not much more than baby steps for what seemed like a really long way. Meanwhile, he played memory games with me to try to take my mind off of... well, death. My wonderful partner promised he wouldn't tell anyone and even said, "Hey, I'll tell you something embarrassing about me so you'll know I won't tell anybody about this." Ah well, I still won't tell his story... partly because I can't remember it!

The funny thing is, I was concentrating so hard on the memory game in order to keep going and get past that scary stuff that I remember it weeks later. It was the "I'm going camping" game. See, the first person says, "I'm going camping, and I'm going to take a..." then names something beginning with the letter A. Then the next person says, "I'm going camping, and I'm going to take..." and then repeats the A thing and adds a B thing. Then the first person says the "I'm going camping" part, repeats the A thing and B thing and adds a C thing. And so on and so forth. Got that?

Well, I was so focused on that game, I still remember, "I'm going camping, and I'm going to take an alligator, a beach ball, a cat, a dog, an emu, a feather, Goofy, a helicopter, an igloo, a jelly bean, a kaleidoscope, a lounge chair, and a mudslide." That particular (expletive) scary section ended before we got to the N thing. But I'll probably remember that A-M list a year from now, too.

About a half-hour later at the start of the next scary stretch, we played a different game. But I'll spare you all of that information.

So why am I bothering to tell you this? Well, for one, I also wanted to share what a nice thing my search-mate said to me later that day—one of the nicest things anyone other than my husband has said to me in a long time. It went something like this: "I'm really impressed with you, Deb. You're terrified about something, and yet you do it anyway. That takes real guts."

I mean, how cool is that? Here I was, a new tech team member, an experienced long-distance backpacker, and active SAR volunteer with lots of mission hours under my belt now, and I was scared out of my noggin on parts of that trail. I felt ridiculous. And yet, my teammate (also a Grand Canyon ranger) turned it into a compliment. So, T.B., if you're reading this... THANK YOU! I'll never forget that, either.

Back From the Arizona State SAR Conference

Every 18 months, search and rescue volunteer and paid professionals from around the state of Arizona, and some from other states, get together to learn from one another and improve their skills. At this year's conference, my second since joining SAR, classes included:

• Basic Map & Compass
• Basic GPS
• PLB/ELT Direction Finding
• Tracking, an 8-hour course (I took this one. Learned a lot.)
• Wilderness Survival
• Basic ATV and Basic UTV
• Advanced ATV Search Tactics
• Air Operations, Ground and Air Unit Coordination
• Alzheimer's Disease Considerations for SAR (This class was great!)
• Swiftwater Rescue Awareness
• Vehicle Track Awareness (another one I took this year)

... and more. There were also classes and field work for those in mounted and K-9 SAR.

At the conference, I had a chance to meet SAR volunteers and coordinators from many Arizona counties, Civil Air Patrol, the Department of Public Safety, and from SAR teams in California and Mississippi, including one deputy who is just starting up a new team. Experience levels ranged from new volunteers just going through a Basic SAR Academy to seasoned veterans who've been involved with hundreds or even thousands of missions.

Based on my experiences at the Arizona SAR Conference, I'd recommend that anyone involved with search and rescue look for a conference to attend at least once. Even if you're very experienced, it never hurts to learn how other teams operate and how they teach the skills. It's also really nice to meet people from teams and organizations you may interact with during a multi-agency mission. If I ever have the opportunity, I'd like to attend a conference in another state and the national conference at some point, too.

If you're looking for a conference, one website to check is SARAZ.org's Conferences/ Training section. This is an Arizona-based website, but listings include events in other states, including the International Tech Rescue Symposium in Pueblo, Colorado, and the annual Georgia SAR Conference.

******

As far as recent missions go, there were a couple shortly before the conference, one of which was a tech team call involving a hiker in West Clear Creek canyon who'd injured his knee. But we ended up being turned around en route to the scene because the helicopter was able to land in the canyon and pick up the patient.

The next mission involved a lost hiker in Sedona, who reported his predicament by cellphone. This turned out to be a joint mission with the adjacent county, with each member from our team paired with a member of the other. I wasn't able to respond to that late-night call-out because of a commitment I had to my mom early the next morning and because I was really tired, but a teammate filled me on the details. He also told me what a pleasure it was to work with the Yavapai County team and that it was a "textbook" SAR mission. I was sorry to have to miss it.

While more than a dozen of my teammates and I were at the Arizona State SAR Conference, there were a few more requests for Coco SAR, one involving a patient carry-out (possibly a technical rescue) when a vehicle went off the highway and two other calls for lost hikers. But our team is large enough and deep enough to handle call-outs even while many of us are out of town and unavailable. I can find out what happened on these missions at the next general meeting, when our coordinator will review the call-outs from the preceding month.

So, now I'm home and ready to get back out there. I'm also looking forward to helping with the Basic Academy's map and compass class this weekend. I actually really like going over these skills, over and over again, and helping others learn them, too, because it keeps me from getting rusty, which is really easy for me to do.

And speaking of practicing, a few of us newbie tech team members are getting together this week to run through some of what we were recently tested on. We all passed the test, but we don't want to forget what we've learned before we move on to new skills.

Have I mentioned lately that I really like SAR? I get frustrated when I screw up or don't do my best, but I sure am happy when I do something right or get better.

A Grand Canyon Search Is Over

Here's the latest news release from Grand Canyon National Park about the search for Andrew Brunelli of North Carolina: Body Believed to be that of Andrew Brunelli Found

I send my deepest condolences to Mr. Brunelli's family and friends. As always, I wish the ending to this story had been a happy one.

******

Well, I'm off to tidy up my SAR pack, then attend the second evening of this year's new-member academy with my husband, who's joining the team. I'm going to help out with some of the classes, but sitting in on the rest never hurts. I always learn something new and refresh my memory on everything else. We have a big group this time, with around 30 new recruits attending.

A Grand Canyon SAR

I'm back home now after a day and a half at Grand Canyon, helping with an ongoing SAR mission. As I type, I'm listening to the live audio feed from the Canyon, trying to keep tabs on the search for 43-year-old Anthony Brunelli of North Carolina (pictured here), who's been missing since Monday, August 31, when he was last seen at the South Rim entrance around 5 a.m. His rental car was later found at the Grandview trailhead, which is east of Grand Canyon Village and the South Kaibab Trail.

On Sunday, four of us from Coconino County SAR headed to Grand Canyon where, after a 6 a.m. briefing, we were given our assignments and joined the search, which had already begun. Each of us was assigned a team leader and inserted by helicopter into various locations in the relative vicinity of the Grandview Trail and Horseshoe Mesa, though often miles away. We'd work our way back toward that area as we searched.

This was quite an adventure for me, not only seeing how SAR at Grand Canyon operates but also getting my first helicopter rides in and out of that awesome place. I also saw part of the canyon I'd not been to before, including Grapevine Canyon and the six miles of the Tonto Trail between there and Cottonwood drainage, parts of which are right along the edge of a very long way down.

I was assigned to work with a volunteer member of Coconino County SAR who also happens to be a park ranger. He was great company and very supportive when I admitted my anxiety—not that I could have hidden it—about the exposure along the Tonto Trail. We played some fun (okay, sorta silly but effective) memory and word games as we hiked along those stretches, which helped me focus on my brain rather than my fear, though I kept close watch on the trail and took careful steps. Having tripped over my own trekking poles in the past, I didn't want that to happen there.

The scenery, though, was just incredible, which I couldn't help but marvel at as we searched. My partner and I made our way up both forks of narrow Grapevine Canyon and then searched Grapevine in the other direction, toward the Colorado River, until the route became too technical to proceed without ropes.

Once we were finished with that part of our assignment, we took a break in the shade as the temperature in the sun topped 100 degrees. But we decided to proceed onto the Tonto Trail midday, as some cloud cover eventually helped mitigate the heat. We each had over a gallon of water left to make the trek to our intended campsite and the water cache back at the Cottonwood drainage, so we both were comfortable with continuing then rather than waiting till late afternoon.

As we hiked, we both looked up and down washes and scanned the area for any sign of... well, anything unusual, including a bit of color that didn't fit or increased bird activity. And I periodically stopped and looked behind me for a different view of what we'd just passed, not wanting to miss anything. As of late afternoon, when we reached Cottonwood Creek at the cache, we hadn't located any clues.

After staying the night at Cottonwood drainage with two other search teams who'd converged there, while others camped in different areas around and on Horseshoe Mesa, most of us were extracted by helicopter the next morning and exchanged with fresh teams. One of my CoCo SAR teammates, also a Grand Canyon PSAR volunteer, was reassigned to work with K-9 teams brought in from another county, while the rest of us debriefed and then headed back to Flagstaff.  We were willing to stay on and continue to help, but the park had enough personnel to handle things at that point.

For more information on the search, see the National Park's latest News Release at The Search for Andrew Brunelli Continues in Grand Canyon National Park

My First SAR Mission as a Tech Team Member

"Did he just say my name?" I ask another new tech team graduate who's standing next to me in the dark street. Our coordinator has just announced the four members of tonight's hasty team.

"Yep, he sure did," my teammate confirms.

It's not like I've never done any scrambling, but climbing of any kind really isn't my forte. And all the training we did during the three and half months of Rock Rescue Academy was from the top down, rigging anchors and belays and going over the edge. Tonight, we'll be going up. Way up, it appears.

At our coordinator's request, the two stranded hikers he's in contact with by cellphone flick their Bic, and we see a small point of light appear against the dark backdrop of the huge rock formation, darker than the sky surrounding it.

I rush to get my seat and chest harnesses on and thankfully receive some help with the straps from a teammate. Adrenaline is interfering with my dexterity. And I don't want to keep the other three hasty team members waiting.

Once I have my gear on, with all my carabiners and other equipment weighing down my seat harness, I grab my pack and 200 feet of rope and follow my teammates up the trail. It's awkward hiking with all this gear hanging on me.

But I have plenty of time to get used to it.

Hours pass as we hike and scramble one way and then another, looking for a route to the two teenagers and their dog. We know they're uninjured and in a secure spot, which is a good thing; in the dark, we're having a heck of a time trying to get to them.

A second team is now trying other routes. We wonder if the route would be obvious in daylight. I mean, they got up there somehow, with a dog and without ropes. Surely there must be a much easier way. If only we could find it. The boys' description of the route they took isn't matching anything we've found so far.

As we use our hands to scramble and steady ourselves, we notice in the beam of our headlamps: scorpions. All over the rocks we're touching. I'm sweating profusely, but the sight of those creepy stinging things makes me shiver. A teammate also notes a "huge" spider. Another reminds us to watch for rattlesnakes. Oy! I'm having a hard enough time keeping myself out of the cactus.

"Go check it out," one teammate says to another, and I look up. I see an intimidating dark spire silhouetted against the night sky.

We're going to climb that?

"There's about a 10- or 12-foot, narrow chute we'd have to chimney up," our teammate calls down to the three of us waiting below. "It doesn't look good, but I think we could do it. I can't see what's beyond that, though."

I hate to say anything—I don't want the others to know I'm unsure of myself up here—but I admit aloud that I'm not an experienced climber. Just, you know, so they're aware of that.

In the end, they decide it's not the right way to go anyway, and I'm relieved. I wish I hadn't admitted my insecurity, but it's too late now. Besides, we have ropes and tech gear, and if my experienced teammates had deemed the route doable, I know we would have done it as safely as possible. And I would have sucked it up and followed.

But now we're heading back down. I have to use my hands and sometimes my butt along the way, and I make little zigzags as I descend to prevent myself from slipping... which I do anyway. I pull a few barbs out of my exposed fingers (my leather gloves are fingerless) as I go, but I manage to keep up. We reach the main trail again and head back to the staging area at the road as we listen to field Team 2 over the radio. It seems they're getting close to the stranded hikers.

Finally, one teammate manages to climb part of a vertical face and reaches the subjects. From there, he finds an easier way back down that face. Now the descent will be steep but manageable, especially if some of us back at the road bring up extra lights for the subjects.

I'm not tired at all and want to be useful, so I'm glad when our coordinator hands me an extra light to bring up. I also grab extra water for the hikers and their dog and stuff it in my pack. At least now I don't have to carry that 200-foot rope as I start back up the trail.

Before long and after a stretch of uncomfortable bushwhacking through vegetation intent on tearing off pieces of my skin, hair, and clothing, we rendezvous with the party coming down and hand over the lights. The hikers don't want anything to drink, but their dog sure does. I get a face-licking after their part pit, parts some other breeds of pup finishes off a large bottle of water as I pour it into my cupped hand.

After assuring and reassuring one of the boys that, no, they won't be fined or charged for search and rescue, they accompany us back to the trailhead, where their parents have been waiting all night.

All night? Wow, those nine hours between signing in and signing out back at the SAR building went by quickly, even with all the hiking and scrambling. I guess my excitement about my first mission as a member of the tech team carried me through the night and all the next day, until I finally fall asleep at my computer the following evening.

******

Here's the brief write-up in our local paper about this mission: Lost Hikers Found (Hey, they left out the part about the scorpions.)

Well, folks, I best be off to bed. I have to be at the SAR building by 4:30 a.m. to head to the Grand Canyon, to assist with a mission there.