Hunters Lost

It's been a common theme lately with our call-outs: hunters lost or reported overdue. It's usually been late at night or duing the wee hours of the morning and a good distance from our SAR home base in Flagstaff.

But the volunteers have responded, getting out of their warm beds and going out into the cold nights to search and rescue. At least, that was plan on several recent occasions. I've been able to respond to only one of these calls, in part because I've been away at a Ropes That Rescue class for a week (more on that later), but I've gotten the scoop from teammates.

The missions have gone something like this...

Overdue hunters on horseback, not dressed for the conditions. SAR is called, drives to the search area a few hours away, and arrives just as the three subjects are spotted by the helicopter.

Overdue hunters again. SAR responds. The helicopter spots the subjects, and SAR waits at the building for about an hour in the middle of the night until it's confirmed the lost have been retrieved.

Hunter is reported overdue near Happy Jack. SAR is called, drives an hour or so. Hunter is found at the first campsite SAR checks.

Lost hunters south of Williams, Arizona. They walked away from their truck but couldn't find their way back. So, SAR responds just after midnight and arrives on the scene just after the pair are spotted and retrieved by helicopter. One of them isn't feeling well and, after being flown to the road, climbs into the waiting ambulance for treatment as SAR turns trucks and trailers around and heads home. (I responded to this one and got back into bed six hours after getting out of it, just as the sun was coming up.)

Overdue hunter near Long Lake. SAR is called around 2:30 a.m. The team is ready to deploy from the building when our coordinator receives a call: The helicopter has spotted a campfire. SAR waits at the building until it's confirmed that the hunter and his horse have been found and rescued.

Well, such is SAR sometimes. But the next time could very well be one of those times when the team saves a life. You just never know, so you go when you can.

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Alpine season is back, and the San Francisco Peaks are getting whiter, so our technical team will be training accordingly. In the spirit of the season, this is the "mountaineering bible" members of our team are reading and reviewing...

Mountaineering: Freedom of the Hills

"Since the publication of the first edition in 1960, Freedom, as the book is known, has endured as a classic mountaineering text. From choosing equipment to tying a climbing knot, and from basic rappelling techniques to planning an expedition, it is all here in this essential mountaineering reference. A team of more than forty experts, all active climbers and climbing educators, reviewed, revised, and updated this compendium to reflect the latest evolutions in mountaineering equipment and techniques. Major updates include a significant new chapter on conditioning, plus detailed and extensive revisions to rescue and first-response, aid climbing, and waterfall and ice climbing."

A Christmas Without SAR

Since the round-the-clock SAR missions involving dozens of stranded hunters a few weeks ago, there hasn't been a peep from SAR central. Which drives home the fact that search and rescue really has become a big part of my life. When we go through a quiet stretch, I sure notice the difference. Too much time on my hands. (Isn't that a song?)

I also realize how often I've not done things—not gone to the movies, not gone out of town for a weekend—so I wouldn't chance missing a SAR call. And that's just plain silly. So, one of my own New Year's resolutions is to go about my life and not worry about when there might be a call-out. I do love to participate, but that definitely shouldn't get in the way of doing other things... right? But I'll still continue to keep all of my gear in my car, just in case.

Anyhow, during this lull, I've read another SAR-related book, though this one is very much from a victim's perspective and doesn't involve a lot of search and rescue action. Angels in the Wilderness: The True Story of One Woman's Survival Against All Odds is a gripping firsthand account about being severely injured deep in the backcountry, while no one knows where the injured solo hiker is and won't miss her for days to come.

This hiker was Amy Racina, who fell 60 feet in a remote part of King's Canyon National Park, breaking both legs. Battling pain, fear, and exhaustion, she survived for four days, pulling herself inch-by-inch along a ravine until her calls were heard by a man who was partially deaf.

One of the most riveting aspects of the story, in my opinion, was the fact that one difference amongst a number of events that led to her rescue could very well have cost Amy her life. I mean, what if the hiking party who found her had canceled their trip for some reason or chosen another route? Or left even one day later? What if Amy hadn't been calling for help at the time the hikers happened to pass by above her—hikers she couldn't see or hear from the ravine? What if she hadn't dragged herself up the ravine but had stayed where she'd fallen? The hikers would probably never have heard her. Amy questions those and other circumstances that fell into place to ultimately save her life at close to the last minute.

I really found this book interesting and inspiring, which is why I read from sundown to sunup until I'd turned the last page.
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If you want to read my opinion of other SAR-related and wilderness survival books, I review each one I read here: Wilderness Survival and Rescue Reading.

A Good Search and Rescue Read

I read this while I was in the Boundary Waters since the searches happened there. Lost in the Wild: Danger and Survival in the North Woods by Cary J. Griffith is really well written and interesting, even if you're not a SAR story addict like me.

Since I already wrote about it on my other blog, I'll just send you over there if you're interested in learning a bit about the book, the area, and the SAR teams that participated. See: Book Review And Some Minnesota & Ontario SAR.

Those North Woods are pretty darn thick, and the trails aren't always too clear, making it pretty easy to get turned around. Here's a photo of my husband ON the Border Route Trail...

Shhhh.....

 Be vewwwy quiiiet. My pager has been, anyway.

Just a shout out to let ya'll know I'm still here, in case you were wondering. It's just that my SAR pager hasn't made a peep in... hm, what's it been? At least a couple of weeks.

And that's a good thing. I mean, as much as I love being on the team and going on missions, I don't WISH for people to get hurt, stranded, or lost, especially in the very wintry weather we've had lately.

Not to mention that it certainly is nice to be warm and cozy inside when it's snowing like crazy and c-c-cold outside.

Anyhow, in the meantime, I've been reading away. More SAR stuff, of course, including Heart of the Storm: My Adventures as a Helicopter Rescue Pilot and Commander by Colonel Edward Fleming. I wrote a little review on my other SAR blog, SARstoriesNews, if you're interested.

Now, though, as I take a break from books about helicopters, which I seem to have developed a bit of a fascination with over the past year or so, I'm reading a piece of fiction for a change, called The Wall by Jeff Long. It's a thriller that takes place on Yosemite's El Capitan. (I'm giving you the Amazon links, but I've found these books at our local library, so you probably can, too.)

Anyhow, I'll be back to babbling about search and rescue when something babble-worthy happens.

A Tribute To My SAR Spouse

In this case, SAR stands for "supportive and reassuring," referring to my husband of almost 11 years. Steve has always been supportive of my endeavors and adventures, not the least of which was my six-month Appalachian Trail thru-hike.

During that time nine years ago, he took care of the farm—the critters and the property—that we were employed to live on and tend to for the absentee owners. Over the course of the 185 days I was away, I saw Steve only once. That five-hour visit took place in a dump of a trail town (which shall remain unnamed) before my husband had to drive back, to make it home in time to do the evening chores. And he never once complained during any of our phone calls or when I returned home after I'd completed my hike, about all of the extra work he'd had to shoulder in my absence.

And Steve has held true to form when it's come to me being part of search and rescue. As anyone involved with SAR knows, our pagers (or phones) can and do go off at all times of the day and night. Our gadgets have no consideration for mealtimes, holidays, great movies or dates, or a good night's sleep during a snowstorm. People sometimes—often—need help when it's not very convenient for SAR personnel or volunteers. Not to mention for their families. So I wanted to publicly thank Steve for being such a great sport, not to mention bolstering my confidence when it wavers.

I recently read a book called Mountain High, Mountain Rescue by SAR volunteer Peggy Parr, in which she writes, "The patience of a husband or wife at home is often forgotten, yet this is a vital ingredient to the team's accomplishments in the field."

She goes on to say, "Sleeping spouses, unmoved by adrenaline, are awakened in the depth of night by a pager's piercing tone giving an emergency message ... and subjected to the noise of frantic dressing and departure. If the spouse wants the car, chauffeuring is necessary. During the day the tone shatters silence at the sermon, the movie and the restaurant. Dinners turn cold, picnics are cancelled, guests are left waiting. Bachelors should contemplate this neglect a spouse suffers.

"After a mission, the spouse is forced to listen to endless phone calls from other members, where details are dissected like a frog. Gear is spread across the floor as in a garage sale. Two-hundred-foot nylon ropes are cleaned in the washing machine, and hang for days drying in spaghetti coils from the basement ceiling.

"The spouse tolerates these annoyances with a patience worthy of sainthood. Members are aware of these qualities, for we take their spirit with us always."

How true. And Steve even gets up when those middle-of-the-night call-outs happen, to make sure I don't leave anything behind as I stumble about for my clothing and gear on the way to the door.

Just today, as Steve and I were in the middle of stuffing our faces with raw fish by candlelight at our favorite sushi restaurant, my pager went off. Immediately, I said, "Oh, it's okay, I'll skip it this time," but my husband knows me all too well. "No, no," he said, "It's totally okay. Go help."

As we've done in the past, we'd have had the rest of our dinner doggie-bagged and then driven home, where I'd drop Steve off, quickly change clothes, and head to the SAR building. But, as it turned out, that wasn't necessary this time, and we finished our dinner date. Our coordinator's message, which I listened to with a face full of maki roll, said this was a call for the technical team. If, in the spring, I qualify for that subset of our general SAR team, those kinds of calls will then include me, and more doggie-bags may be necessary.

Checking the SAR Line

I thought I'd do a test to see if the trend will continue. Ready? Drum roll, please...

Gee, it's been REALLY QUIET LATELY!

Ten... nine... eight...

I called the SAR phone number today, to be sure the most recent message about a call-out was the last one I heard when my pager went off at 2:30 a.m. on November 24. That mission was 10-22'd (cancelled) pretty quickly as I was en route to The 105 building. So I called to be sure my pager was working. Yep, I haven't missed anything. Still the same message from the 24th, about a lady missing near Williams.

Seven... six... five...

Before that was the plane crash in Sedona. So it's been over two weeks since we've had a call-out. Wow, I'm getting used to sleeping through the night.

Four...

Read some good search and rescue books lately, during all these quiet evenings at home (with my pager next to me on the nightstand, of course). The first was Lost In the Yellowstone: Truman Everts's Thirty Seven Days of Peril written by Truman Everts himself, who was—you guessed it—lost in Yellowstone (before it was a National Park). That was back in the late 1800s and apparently is still the longest anyone has gone missing in that area and been found alive... though not far from death in Evert's case. A thin book and a good read but a little challenging with all of the side notes, some of which are about the concurrent movements by the rest of Evert's party and others who went looking for him.

Three...

Then I read Coming Home from Devil Mountain by Eleanor Dart O'Bryon, who became separated from her fiance while climbing Picacho del Diablo in Baja, Mexico, and both were stranded without food for nearly three weeks. Another quick read, composed mostly of interlocking journals kept by Eleanor while alone on the mountain, starving, and her father, who mounted a search effort with the Sierra Madre SAR team.

TWO...

And my definite favorite of the three is Coming Back Alive: The True Story of the Most Harrowing Search and Rescue Mission Ever Attempted on Alaska's High Seas by Spike Walker. For me, it was one of those "I don't care how tired I'll be at work tomorrow, I've gotta keep reading" books. Totally distant from any experience I'll ever have, I found it fascinating.

One and a HALF...

So, no Coconino County SAR news (that I know of) to report for now. There's probably been plenty going on that just hasn't required volunteers or at least nothing that necessitated paging the whole team. Sometimes, certain team members with a lot of experience or specific skills are called directly to help with specialized missions. We usually hear about that stuff at our monthly general meetings.

One and a QUARTER...

But I'll be back as soon as I have something SAR to share.

ONE!

Hm.

Some PSAR: The Highpointers Are in Town

Mission-wise, things have been quiet for the last couple of weeks, since Labor Day weekend. But our SAR team has had some PSAR to do in the meantime. PSAR stands for preventative search and rescue, which basically involves walking heavily used trails and stationing ourselves in high-visibility areas to answer questions, make sure folks are prepared for what they're doing or setting out to do, and sometimes disseminating informational brochures or just saying a friendly hello to passers by.

This week, the Highpointers are in town for their "konvention" on Humphrey's Peak. Until one of our SAR general meetings a couple of months ago, I hadn't heard of this club with a membership that has an age range of something like five years to 90. The club's purpose, as quoted from their website, is to "promote climbing to the highest point in each of the fifty (50) states; provide a forum for education about the highpoints; aid in the preservation and conservation of the highpoints and their environs; provide a vehicle through which persons with this common goal can meet and correspond with one another; maintain positive relationships with owners of highpoints on private property; assist in the care and maintenance of highpoints; and support public and private efforts to maintain the integrity of and access to state highpoints." Got all that? I've even heard that some club members try to hit high points in all counties as well.

Anyhow, with something like 350 more people than usual hiking Humphreys and other popular Flagstaff trails this week, our SAR team did some planning, parked a command trailer up at the Snowbowl ski area at the Humphreys trailhead, and made ourselves noticeable and available on the mountain, hiking (and riding horses) around with our SAR shirts and radios on. Our goal was not only to do some PSAR but to have team members in the area in case an incident were to occur. It's now Friday morning, the final full day of the Highpointers event and, so far, all is well.

I think the Highpointers Club is pretty cool. And being a list-maker and a goal-oriented girl myself, this makes me go, "Hmm..."

And thank you, Renee from Tidewater Search & Rescue for telling me about a book written by a Highpointer. She tells me it's a fun and easy read, by two men who completed the 50-state quest. It's called, To The Top: Reaching for America's 50 State Summits.