SAR Called to Assist with the Wallow Fire (and Some P-SAR Too)

It's now the second largest wildfire in Arizona history, having burned more than 486 square miles as of Tuesday (so more by now) and still moving 5 to 8 miles per day. That's almost as big as the city of Phoenix! 2,500 firefighters from several western states and some as far away as New York are working to contain the blaze, which is burning in the Apache-Sitgreaves National Forest near Springerville, Arizona. "The blaze has consumed 311,481 acres since it started May 29. It has been propelled by wind gusts of more than 60 mph." (Arizona Daily Sun)

Yesterday, our search and rescue team received a call to respond for an extended mission from Thursday through the weekend, to assist with road blocks and perhaps other assignments in connection with the Wallow Fire. Our coordinator said we'll probably be asked to do the same multiple times over the next few weeks.

See:  Northern Arizona Fire Personnel Help Fight Wallow Fire, Others to find out who else is responding from Coconino County.

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In other team news...

Last Saturday, several of us set up a booth at the Outdoor Festival at Mormon Lake, co-hosted by the Arizona Game and Fish Department and Mormon Lake Lodge. The day was filled with activities, including archery, fishing, and horseback rides, and there were information booths from a variety of exhibitors and live animals from the Game and Fish Department's Adobe Mountain Wildlife Center.

The theme of our SAR booth was the ten essentials of hiking, with the ten essential categories being navigation, illumination, insulation, nutrition, hydration, shelter (which, in our case, was as simple as a rain poncho or a survival blanket with grommets so it could be used as a tarp), tools and repair, sun protection, first aid, and (although it feels strange to say so right now, given the first part of this post) fire-starting.

Coconino County SAR members teach children and adults about the ten essentials.

We gave out P-SAR cards ("P" being for preventative), which list the 10 essentials and other hiking and preparedness tips. We also had examples of those essential items. On the one hand, we had a large Zip-loc baggie with a condensed version of these essentials, which would be an appealing size and weight for a lot of people, adults and children, who go for recreational day-hikes. We also had a few of our search and rescue packs for more extensive examples of 10-essential gear, which would be appropriate for longer hikes and more extreme weather.

A lot of children visited our booth, and they seemed to really enjoy going through the list on the P-SAR cards, reading off each item and then searching for it in the baggie. Some wanted to see if they could lift my backpack. And some also got a little quiz. We ask, "If you got lost, what would you do?" and heard a lot of really good answers about ways to signal for help. Many eventually got around to the main answer we were looking for: sit down and stay put. Or "hug a tree" as we like say. We also asked the kids what they can do to prevent getting lost in the first place. (Parents seemed happy to hear that question.)

So, it was a good day for SAR community education. We were invited to return to the festival next year.

A Train Derailment, A Training Day, and a Trail Wreck

It was just a typical 24 hours (actually, more for some folks) in Search & Rescue ... not that much of anything about SAR is typical. You never know what you're going to see or hear when that email/text message/phone call comes in.

On Friday evening, May 13th, my phone beeped, and when I retrieved it from my pocket, "train derailment" were the words that popped out at me. Reading the full text message, I learned it was a freight train that had derailed north of Williams, Arizona, with a possible serious HAZMAT situation. Search and Rescue was requested to shuttle HAZMAT techs to the site over very rough roads. (See the location of the derailment on Google Maps.)

Six or eight SAR volunteers were needed but 15 called in to help. We loaded some equipment, including the Polaris Ranger UTV, and headed to the site, upwind of the derailment in case there were any noxious fumes coming from the HAZMAT materials. (Thanks to our Coordinator for thinking of that!)

Just after we turned off the highway, we saw several RVs. People were camping in the area for the spring season turkey hunt. But it wasn't a rafter of wild turkeys that gave them a rude awakening—it was a railroad crew with very big, very bright lights, which I assumed would be transported to the derailment to illuminate the area. Those lights were all on next to the RVs when search and rescue headed out. I guess they were testing them before hauling them in.

As it turned out, the "nasty" stuff on the train—a sodium hydroxide solution—was intact, so crews were able to make their way to the site of the 15-car derailment from the downwind side, which was passable for their vehicles. Apparently, it was corn syrup, concrete, and beer cars that had overturned. I heard that at least one car had gone over a 120-foot cliff. Wonder how that happened.

A few hours after the call-out, SAR members were headed back home.

The next day, it was training from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. for me and the rest of the technical rescue team out at Volunteer Canyon, a few hundred feet deep at the end, where we were practicing tandem systems on either side of the canyon. (Wish I had photos for you, but my hands were pretty tied up most of the time. Here's a picture of the canyon, though, which looks like it was taken right where we were practicing.)

During one rotation, I was the subject and rappelled down to a ledge where I made myself comfortable (relatively speaking) and waited for a teammate to be lowered to pick me off.  Believe it or not, I actually enjoyed being suspended over a long way down.

Happily, the rather complex maneuver, with main and belay lines attached to the subject (me) and my rescuer from both rims, was a success, and the two of us were safely transplanted back on top. It was a productive day for the team and good to be back on the ropes after months of alpine training through the winter.

But the day wasn't quite done for some tech team members. As soon as we'd refueled the vehicles and then unloaded equipment back at the SAR building, our coordinator called, saying there had been a mountain bike accident on the Schultz Creek Trail. I was already late for another commitment so I couldn't respond, but several others quickly reloaded gear and headed to the scene. Coconino County Search & Rescue assisted Summit Fire and Guardian with what FlagScanner described on Twitter as "a very technical rescue of an injured adult female ... at the Schultz Creek Trailhead."

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See the latest post from SAR Stories News: Search & Rescue Blogs and Mission Episodes / Also: Update on the Search for Abisha

Some SAR for Flagstaff Twisters

It was just before 6 a.m. when the ringing woke me up. Glancing at my cellphone, I wasn't surprised at that still-dark hour to see it was a SAR call, but when I answered, I wasn't sure I'd heard correctly in my sleepy fog. Did our coordinator say tornado?

Not only had he said tornado, but throughout the day, several more twisters would touch down in the Flagstaff area, one of which destroyed more than 30 homes and damaged about 100 others in Bellemont and toppled 28 freight train cars. Another twister originated in the Blue Ridge area, leaving a 15-mile swath of broken trees in its wake while miraculously missing nearby structures.

When all responding SAR members arrived at the building, we took off toward Bellemont, watching the dark clouds swirl overhead, scanning the sky near and far for any sign of more funnel clouds forming. As we drove, we talked about where we could take cover. One of my teammates pointed out a ditch and culvert, while another mentioned an overpass somewhere ahead that we could park beneath.

At one point, some of us stopped to set up a road block, directing drivers to turn around in the median and go back to Flagstaff. Semi trucks had been turned over on I-40 and another tornado had been spotted, heading toward the highway and again the Bellemont neighborhood.

A DPS officer eventually arrived to take over the road block, relieving us so we could continue on to the command center, at that time located in the fire station near the original tornado's path. The rain resumed full force as we passed Camper's World, where RVs had been mangled and tossed every which way in the parking area and sales yard. Debris was scattered across the road and median.

We waited at the fire station for assignments, listening to radio traffic about more tornadoes forming as we watched the lightning, rain, wind, and hail from the dry side of the bay windows.

Some time later, we were relocated to the NOAA building at Camp Navajo, considered a more secure building. Weather Service personnel were staring at their banks of colorful computer monitors and busily walking desk to desk, room to room, calm but clearly running on adrenaline. One man said, "This is what we all train for but hope never happens."

Eventually, SAR personnel were sent into the field to do welfare checks and damage assessments, with the exception of me and one other team member, who were asked to stay behind to monitor the radios, record the transmissions and activities on the computer, and do some mapping. The others headed out to get very wet while canvassing the Bellemont neighborhood.

At the end of the day, patches of blue sky began to emerge. The tornado warnings subsided and later the watch was lifted. The severe and unusual storm had left behind lots of damage and some minor injuries but, thankfully, no serious physical trauma or loss of life.

The next day, SAR teams were dispatched to search Forest Service roads, to make sure no campers or hunters had been stranded or injured.

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Per the National Weather Service on October 6,2010....

A STRONG PACIFIC LOW PRESSURE SYSTEM LOCATED ACROSS SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA COMBINED WITH SUBSTANTIAL MOISTURE MOVING NORTH FROM MEXICO...LED TO THE DEVELOPMENT OF WIDESPREAD SEVERE THUNDERSTORM ACTIVITY ACROSS THE REGION WEDNESDAY. NUMEROUS REPORTS OF HAIL WERE RECEIVED...AS WELL AS FIVE CONFIRMED TORNADOES.

TORNADOES...

BLUE RIDGE...(153-212 AM)...FOREST SERVICE AND NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE EMPLOYEES VERIFIED A 10-15 MILE PATH WITH NUMEROUS TREES DOWN AND SEVERAL FOREST ROADS BLOCKED. DAMAGE INTENSITY VARIED CONSIDERABLY ALONG PATH, WHICH VARIED FROM 75 TO 400 YARDS WIDE.

BELLEMONT TORNADO #1...(507-535 AM)...CONSIDERABLE STRUCTURAL DAMAGE IN AND AROUND THE COMMUNITY OF BELLEMONT. AREAL AND GROUND SURVEYS VERIFIED A SEMI-CONTINUOUS TORNADO PATH FROM AT LEAST 9 MILES SOUTH OF BELLEMONT...EXTENDING NORTHWARD CROSSING HIGHWAY 180 NORTHWEST OF FLAGSTAFF. TOTAL PATH LENGTH OF AT LEAST 22 MILES. PRELIMINARY ESTIMATES OF DAMAGE INTENSITY IN THE COMMUNITY OF BELLEMONT PUT THIS TORNADO AT EF-1 ON THE ENHANCED FUJITA SCALE. MOST INTENSE DAMAGE (NOT YET RATED) WAS IN THE FOREST SOUTH AND JUST NORTH OF BELLEMONT.

BELLEMONT TORNADO #2...(558-640 AM)...THIS TORNADO CAUSED EXTENSIVE FOREST DAMAGE (PRIMARILY SOUTH OF BELLEMONT)...ALONG A CONTINUOUS TRACK WHICH EXTENDED FROM 15 MILES SOUTH OF BELLEMONT...EVENTUALLY CROSSING HIGHWAY 180 NORTHWEST OF FLAGSTAFF. 28 RAIL CARS DERAILED IN BELLEMONT...WITH ADDITIONAL STRUCTURAL AND AUTO DAMAGE. TOTAL PATH LENGTH OF AT LEAST 30 MILES. NO TORNADO INTENSITY HAS BEEN ESTIMATED YET.

MUNDS PARK...(1208-1220 PM)...THIS TORNADO WAS SIGHTED CROSSING INTERSTATE 17 MOVING NORTHBOUND...LATER OBSERVED 4 MILES SOUTH OF THE COUNTRY CLUB NEIGHBORHOOD ON THE EAST SIDE OF FLAGSTAFF. LITTLE SURFACE DAMAGE REPORTED AT THIS TIME.

AN ADDITIONAL TORNADO TRACK WAS DISCOVERED NORTH AND WEST OF FORT VALLEY NEAR THE FLAGSTAFF NORDIC CENTER. THIS TRACK WAS DISTINCTLY SEPARATE FROM THE TWO EARLIER BELLEMONT TORNADO TRACKS...HOWEVER APPEARED TO BE MUCH SHORTER IN LENGTH.

HAIL REPORTS...

CORNVILLE..........................2.00 INCH DIAMETER
PARKS..............................1.75 INCH DIAMETER
TEEC NOS POS.......................1.75 INCH DIAMETER
RIMROCK............................1.25 INCH DIAMETER
KACHINA VILLAGE....................1.00 INCH DIAMETER
COTTONWOOD 1 MI SOUTH..............1.00 INCH DIAMETER
MUNDS PARK 5 MI NORTH..............1.00 INCH DIAMETER

See also:

  News video: 'Tornado train' rocks Arizona

Article: Bellemont Becomes Tornado Alley

Photos of tornado aftermath

Update: 8 Tornadoes now confirmed

A Plane Crash in Sedona

Al and I stood along the fire line, staring at the smoldering wreckage.

"Is that part of a wing?" I asked.

"No, that's a stabilizer," he said. "That's part of a wing over there. I think this was a Piper, but I can't tell for sure."

It was a little after 8 a.m. How different the crash site looked now that the sun was up. During the night, the wreckage had been illuminated by the light of the full moon and the orange glow of flames, making it seem almost surreal. But now, in the stark light of day, it was all too vivid and all too real.

At about 5:30 p.m. on Thursday, November 13, my pager had gone off. It was a 300 code for a rescue, so I was surprised to hear our captain's message that this was an airplane disaster. At the time, he didn't know if it was a private or commercial plane, how many people were involved, or the status of the victims. He did know the location, near Schnebly Hill Road in Sedona.

At least a dozen volunteers had responded to the SAR building by the time the call-out was cancelled, but that didn't mean the mission was over. As more information came in, Lieutenant Christian told us that only four of us would be needed for the night, two to station themselves at the intersection of Schnebly Hill Rd. and the rough two-track that led relatively close to the crash site and two to spend the night watching over the wreckage. Al and I were the two who'd spend the night with what was left of the plane. And the two men who hadn't survived.

And that's what was foremost in my mind as I lay on the ground nearby, inside my bivy bag with my head on my backpack. I had forgotten my ground pad, and there wasn't a clear spot anywhere to be found that was free of rocks, but my own discomfort was nothing. All I could think about were the people affected by this crash: the two men who'd died, the pilot who'd somehow crawled from the wreckage with second- and third-degree burns over half his body, and the rest of their families. It's one thing to hear about tragedies in the news—it's quite another to be so... well, up close and personal.

As it turned out, the three victims were related: two brothers, Michael and Tommy Johnson, and their cousin, Rockney Mark Herring. I saw their picture when Michael's son, Micah, held up his cellphone to show Al and me the photo the morning following the crash, when we returned to the intersection at Schnebly Hill Rd. after being relieved by two other SAR members. He and other family members were there, waiting to be taken to the scene. Seeing the pictures of the men whose remains we'd watched over during the night really had an impact on me.

Micah said that his dad, Michael from Phoenix, and his uncle Tommy of Texas hadn't seen one another in nearly 10 years. They'd been enjoying a sightseeing flight with their cousin Rockney, the pilot, when, after refueling at the Sedona Airport, their Piper PA 32-260 fixed-wing, single-engine aircraft lost power and went down in that rugged, heavily treed area about eight miles east of Sedona.

A vacationing New York firefighter camping nearby had been the first on the scene. He found the injured pilot lying next to a tree and rendered first aid until a DPS rescue helicopter was able to land and transport the patient. Arriving in the darkness a few hours after the crash, the first thing I'd seen in the firelight was what turned out to be the pilot's mangled headset on the ground next to a tree, marked with evidence tape.

When we hiked up to the crash site, a lieutenant, a deputy, and numerous Forest Service personnel were there. The Forest Service folks had cut a fire line around the wreckage and were finishing up their work for the time being. Al and I would keep tabs on the fire during the night to be sure the flames didn't kick up again or cross the fire line.

As the others prepared to leave, the deputy asked if Al and I would be comfortable up there on our own. The deputy would remain at the intersection on Schnebly Hill Rd. where he had provisions in his patrol car, and we could call him by cellphone or radio if we needed him at the site. We were also given numbers to call if there were an issue with the fire.

It was a long night, with the moon so bright I could read small print without my headlamp. Unfortunately, the only thing I did have to read was the info sheet that came with my brand new bivy bag. Which, by the way, I found out isn't quite adequate for mid-November, particularly between 2 and 4 a.m. With the rocks, the cold, the radio traffic I monitored throughout the night, and frequent fire checks, especially when the breeze picked up, there wasn't much sleep happening.

"You awake?" I heard Al ask sometime around 1:30.

"Yeeeaaahhh," I groaned.

"I'm going to take a walk around the crash site to make sure everything's okay."

From my location upwind of the fire, I watched Al disappear behind illuminated smoke. Looking at my moonlit surroundings, I was struck by how quiet it was, except for the occasional crack or pop from the embers or some shifting piece of plane or smoldering tree limb.

Al returned to his own spot amongst the rocks, and we both lay there for another six hours or so, my bivy and his space blanket crinkling intermittently as we both tried to find comfortable positions for a few minutes at a time. I was relieved when the sun came up and things would soon be happening. At some point, the National Transportation Safety Board  and Medical Examiner would arrive, then Michael and Tommy's remains would be removed from beneath the wreckage.

But before that happened, media helicopters were on the scene, flying in slow circles above our heads. I thought about how different it was here on the ground, standing only feet from what I'd normally just see on the news.

From the Arizona Daily Sun: Family Mourns Brothers Killed in Plane Crash

Helicopter Collision Update

Turns out, I never returned to the crash site after the night I spent helping with security. The National Transportation Safety Board arrived the following day, and they had a private security company take over. Search and rescue volunteers were off duty by 5 p.m. on Monday, the day after the mid-air collision, though we were paged out again on Tuesday to assist with the search for evidence—for pieces of a rotor that had not yet been located. Having gone out on a search on Monday night for a lost hiker on the Huckaby Trail in Sedona, I was not able to respond to that evidence search.

By Thursday, July 3, all wreckage from the two helicopters had been collected and loaded on flatbed trailers to be hauled to a secure site in Phoenix. On Thursday, July 4, the injured flight nurse from the Classic crew, the only one alive after the crash, died at Flagstaff Medical Center. A public memorial service for all seven victims—the five crew from both helicopters and the two patients they were transporting—will be held this coming Tuesday at 10 a.m. at the Pine Mountain Amphitheater.

According to an article today in the Arizona Daily Sun, medical transport helicopters en route to Flagstaff Medical Center communicate with a Guardian dispatcher at Pulliam Airport, not with anyone at the hospital or with one another, and most of the transmissions are regarding the status of patients on board. The dispatcher then relays information, including expected arrival time, to the hospital. Simultaneous approaches to the hospital are prohibited.

And that's about all I have to report about the crash at this time. I'll have an entry about a lost hiker on the Huckaby Trail in the next few days.

A Mid-Air Collision

This was a code I had not expected to see on my pager: A "700" appeared on the little screen at about 4:30 p.m., and I quickly consulted my list to double-check. Sure enough, 700 means disaster response. I couldn't imagine what that would mean.

When I called in, the message stated that there had been a mid-air collision "in the area." Turns out, two medical transport helicopters, both on approach to the hospital here in downtown Flagstaff, had collided and crashed about a half-mile from their destination. Articles and photos from the Arizona Daily Sun can be found here:

Tragedy Over Flagstaff

UPDATE: Victims of midair medical copter collision ID'd, plus VIDEO of morning press conference

Radio transcripts detail emergency response

Amazingly, neither helicopter hit any nearby buildings or homes or anyone on the ground. It was a beautiful summer Sunday afternoon, so a number of people were out and about and witnessed the collision. A friend of mine who lives nearby said he heard the explosion, and he and other neighbors ran to see what had happened. The helicopters crashed on McMillan Mesa, right in the middle of town near popular Buffalo Park and the Flagstaff Urban Trail.

There were six fatalities in the crash and one survivor, a flight nurse currently in critical condition.

Search and rescue personnel were on scene shortly after the crash, and several of our more experienced members retrieved the flight recorders. One of these people said it's a visual he'll never forget.

SAR members from both ground and mounted units (without horses) have been taking shifts since 5 p.m. on Sunday, June 29, providing site security to keep media and civilians—anyone other than uniformed officers and other officials—out of the large crash site.

The crash and subsequent explosions of the Guardian helicopter also began a 10-acre wildfire. SAR volunteers working the southern perimeter of the crash site last night said they smelled fumes from the smoldering wreckage throughout their shift. Though the fire was basically out by Sunday evening, a SAR volunteer who was on scene this morning called me and said there were hot-spots flaring up nearby, so she reported it and firefighters were responding as she was speaking to me.

I was on scene from 5 p.m. yesterday till 1:00 this morning. Most of that time, I sat up on Cedar Hill on the north side of the crash. From my vantage point, I could see several police cars at road blocks in two locations, the smoldering wreckage of one of the helicopters, and people walking along Cedar Drive to watch from a distance. No one approached the portion of the police line that I was monitoring, but apparently the area closer to the neighborhood on the south side of the crash saw some activity, with local residents coming over to get a closer look. Below me, there was also activity near the site of the second helicopter, with multiple news agencies showing up throughout the evening.

After half a night's sleep and a late breakfast, I'm now standing by, waiting for another call-out for the next shift. I'm not sure how long SAR will be needed for site security. That will depend, I assume, on how long it takes to remove all the wreckage, if that's even begun yet.

I'll update soon.

Search and Rescue News

I wish I had a SAR story to tell you from the past few weeks, but no recent call-outs have led to actual missions. But that's not to say nothing's been going on.

On the afternoon of Sunday, March 16, during a brief snow storm that created whiteout conditions on I-40 west of Flagstaff, we got a stand-by (888) page about a huge vehicle pileup, which we later learned involved 139 cars and trucks! When I called in and heard Sergeant D's message, my husband and I were driving through town and soon came to an I-40 underpass. Looking up, we saw semi after semi parked along the highway. Traffic was backed up for at least 20 miles. Our coordinator said search and rescue volunteers might be needed to help with evacuations, so Steve and I headed home, and I got my gear together for a winter mission.

A few hours later, another stand-by page came through, and this time the message stated that four SAR personnel were on scene and may need to be relieved if the situation continued past 2200 hours. There had never been an actual call-out so, at the time, I didn't know who those four SAR personnel were. I hesitate to admit it, but I felt a little jealous; I wanted to be out there helping, too. But I assumed Sergeant D had directly contacted the most experienced members of the team. That turned out to be the case, as I learned at the next team meeting.

Our SAR meetings are held the third Thursday of each month, and one of the usual items on the agenda is to review the past month's missions, both those involving volunteers and any that involved just sheriff's deputies. This month, we learned that Sergeant D had been out of town when the pile-up occurred, so he contacted our SAR captain (also a volunteer) and three others to respond in his absence while he was en route. Those four men helped evacuate uninjured motorists stranded on the interstate. City busses were also taken out of service here in Flagstaff and sent to transport people stuck in the backup and bring them to a local shelter at a school, opened by two Red Cross members who also happen to be SAR volunteers.

We learned that two people had died in the accident, while numerous others were injured, some critically. Helicopters were unable to land close to the injured, many of whom had to be carried by EMS personnel quite a distance on stretchers. The photos and video on the Arizona Daily Sun website the next day revealed just how massive this pile-up was. By 2200 hours, however, SAR services were no longer needed, so Sergeant D didn't make any additional call-outs.

Mini training sessions are also held at those monthly general meetings. This time, it was patient packaging: how to place an injured or ill victim in a litter, strap them in, and transport them out of the backcountry. The type of litter used in this training was a "break-apart" litter, which, as the name implies, separates into two pieces for ease of carrying to the patient's location. Available in both stainless steel (34 pounds) and titanium (20 pounds), this litter's light weight also makes it easier to transport than other one-piece, heavier devices. There's a wheel attachment as well, so the litter can be rolled along the ground where possible rather than carried.

With our largest member as the guinea pig, we put the rig to the test. Wheel or no wheel, it's not an easy feat, even on a level, carpeted floor, let alone in the great outdoors with all of the rocks, roots, slopes, and other obstacles that come with it. After transporting the first "patient" around the room, we released him and nominated Val, my companion from the sheep herder search, to be the next volunteer and proceeded to learn how to strap someone in to ensure they don't slide up or down and out if, for example, they're being hoisted into a hovering helicopter or up or down a cliff.

Having been a volunteer victim myself for Wilderness First Responder classes, I know that being strapped into a litter and carried and jostled and jolted and tilted can make a person nauseous, so I piped up for the first time during a SAR meeting to make that point. (Losing last meal while in a prone position on one's back is not a good thing, after all.) That comment prompted a short discussion about keeping the patient in mind during an evac and appointing one rescuer to keep talking to and monitoring the subject. So I was glad I mustered the guts to open my mouth.

Besides the break-apart, our unit has other types of patient transport devices, including plastic litters that can slide along snow and ice, as well as a new piece of equipment that, by using a pump, has the air sucked out of it so it conforms to the patient's body. I don't recall the name of that device, and Sergeant D is still waiting to receive the pump, so we couldn't try it out at the meeting.

In the weeks following the huge traffic pile-up and most recent team meeting, there have been a couple more page-outs. One came in just as Steve and I were returning from the long Easter weekend we spent at Zion National Park. Really tired and dirty, I opted not to respond. Sergeant D's message said the call-out was primarily for the technical team, but any available general members were encouraged to respond, to assist with a possible litter-carry. How appropriate, considering our recent mini-training.

Sergeant D's message also said that a pilot actually saw a climber fall off Steamboat Rock in Sedona. Wow, I thought, that sounds really bad. It wasn't easy to NOT respond, but I found out later that it didn't matter: No climber was ever found, and no one had  been able to contact the reporting party. Could it have been a hoax? Or did a pilot (in a small plane, I assume) think he saw something he didn't?

Another call-out came last night, just as I was getting ready for bed. I had to be at the office at eight this morning (I work two days a week as a leasing agent at an apartment complex), but I decided to respond. Who needs sleep anyway? The message stated that two kids had wandered off from a broken-down school bus in the very rural Mormon Lake area about 45 minutes from Flagstaff. But not long after five of us got to The 105 building and had begun getting our equipment and ATVs ready, the kids were located. In fact, they were home already. All that was needed then were a couple of volunteers to go out to Mormon Lake and get the deputy's vehicle unstuck. So I went home and to bed instead.

And that's about it for now. I've read several missing person stories in the local paper recently, including one about a 29-year-old guy who walked away from Grand Canyon Village, where he lives and works for a concessionaire in the National Park, and hasn't been seen for at least a week. He was apparently upset at the time of his disappearance. But no clues to his whereabouts or destination have been found, and it's not even known if he's in the area. I keep thinking one of these articles will turn into a Coconino County Sheriff's Search and Rescue mission , but, so far nothin'.