SAR City

I'm back. And, hopefully, I'm now a better tracker after an another 16 hours of instruction, this time at the SAR City conference in Barstow, California, where there were more than 50 classes offered on a wide range of topics and skills. This annual conference is organized and hosted by the all-volunteer Barstow Desert Rescue Squad in San Bernadino County.

I thought the three-day event was well worth the trip, and as always, I really enjoyed meeting people from other teams, especially the folks from Dolores, Colorado, K9 Search & Rescue, who came over to introduce themselves soon after I arrived as I sat alone by my tent. So, thank you Shawn, Chuck, Randy, Vicki #1, Vicki #2, and Kimberly (and Jack!) for hanging out with me over the weekend. It was great to meet you and learn about your team. And it was nice meeting you too, Orange County guys. That's a spiffy Hummer you've got there.

As for that tracking class—which was excellent in many ways, and the lead instructor, retired sergeant and SAR coordinator Darryl Heller was top-notch—it's always interesting to learn the same skills from different people. I pick up new techniques and "tricks" and get at least a somewhat different perspective, which I think is really valuable. 

That said, it's a challenge not to say "yes, but.." when an instructor tells you that what you learned from someone else is wrong ("No, you never do that" was the reply to a question I asked about a method of measuring stride that I'd been taught at the Heber, Arizona conference), or if that instructor has a very different way of doing something than you're used to.

Not that I'm the greatest tracker after just two years in SAR and five tracking classes, but it can also be difficult to swallow your pride when someone talks to you like you have no experience at all. In my case, during one of the field sessions, I was used as an example of what NOT to do, even though it's something my own team does when tracking, and I've learned it from others as well. I must admit, that really bugged me... even after the field instructor came up to me after class to say it had been he who'd encouraged the other students in my group to do something that obliterated part of the track and that I hadn't actually done anything wrong. Well, phooey, I wish the other students knew that.

Other than that, though... I thought the class was great and would highly recommend it to anyone in SAR. And while that class took up the entire conference, I heard lots of good things about many of the other classes, too, some of which lasted an hour or two or four and others that spanned the whole weekend.

If you'd like to read more about the conference and see my photos—I wish I'd taken more, but I was usually too busy with the class or yacking to remember to take pictures—I did a write-up about it here: SAR City: A Search and Rescue Conference in Barstow, California.

A Search and Rescue Weekend

When I walked in the door early Sunday morning, my husband told me I smelled like smoke, but my nose didn't agree. Maybe I just got used to it overnight, as I sat at the road block for about 12 hours, the wind gusting, rocking the vehicle and several times toppling the barricades.

Search and rescue had been called upon on Saturday to staff the road blocks in Williams, Arizona, to keep folks out of an area of town that SAR had helped evacuate the night before when a prescribed burn got out of hand and became a wildfire. As of today (Monday), that fire still threatens homes.

See: Williams Still in Danger from the Arizona Daily Sun.

In the photo above, taken late afternoon on Saturday, you can see the smoke ahead-left, as my teammates and I approach Williams, where we relieved the crew that had been there overnight.

On Sunday morning, after our group returned from Williams, I had just enough time to grab a shower, change clothes, and go to the tracking class for the Basic SAR Academy. I probably could have skipped the morning classroom session and just gone to the field exercise later, when I was scheduled as an assistant instructor, but I wasn't all that tired (yet) so I decided to sit in on the classroom part, too.

Here, the whole group is briefed before the field session....

Then I took my group of three new trackers to their first print. They documented it as they'd been taught and then got started following the track.

It rained off and on, and the wind continued to gust, making the tracking extra challenging. Despite losing the track now and then, however, the group managed to pick it up again and follow it to the end.

Nice job, guys!

So, Saturday was the GPS class beginning at 8 a.m. in the classroom, and then we went out to practice in the forest in the afternoon. Below, academy members and my co-instructor (front) were entering the next waypoint into their GPSes, which they then had to convert from latitude-longitude to UTM, and plot the coordinate on their maps before navigating to that point...

It was at that time, around 3 p.m. Saturday, when there was a call-out for a lost 15-year-old, so I left my group with the other instructor and quickly hiked back to the road, where another teammate scooped me up and we headed to the SAR building.

That mission was quickly concluded when some tracks were discovered and then the DPS helicopter spotted the girl, and we returned to the SAR building just before 5:00. Ten minutes later, I was off to Williams. So it had been all day Saturday in GPS class, then to the mission for the lost girl, then to Williams for the overnight road block, then to the tracking class on Sunday. And today, Monday, is a continuing evidence search. Whew! But I did get a good night's sleep last night, so I'm ready to search.

Oh, and I practiced rappelling last week, too, with a couple of my tech rescue teammates. As usual, I was nervous going over the edge the first time through, but when I hiked back up and went for a second and third descent, my nerves calmed (also as usual). We were using a conditional self-belay on a second line, which meant I didn't have a free hand to brace myself against the rock, like I usually had before. So, that was a little different for me.

Here, you can see the brake rack in my right hand, while I tend the Prusik with my left. It was about a 30-foot cliff. Maybe not a lot... but enough.

 

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.

I Passed! And Other News of the SAR and Backpacking Kind

Yyyaaayyy! I'm a very happy—and very relieved—SAR girl. I had test anxiety all last night and this morning before I began demonstrating my new technical rescue skills, as my experienced teammates watched at each test station. I had no idea how it all would go, but I'm happy to report that... well, I didn't suck. 💪 😃

I started off at the patient packaging and litter rigging station, moved on to ascending and rappelling with a hot changeover on the rope, and then went to the pick-off station. (A pick-off is what you do when someone is stranded over the edge, either on a rope or unsupported, perhaps clinging to a rock face.) Next, I set up belay systems, anchors, and mechanical advantage systems and then tied a bunch of different knots and a load-releasing hitch. I had to explain a pretensioned back-tie, make improvised chest and seat harnesses, and be checked for having the required personal tech gear.

When I had gone through all of the testing stations, the instructors had marked off and signed my entire checklist. Phew! Then I got my naew rock rescue patch for my SAR shirt. (Yay! again.)

I'd been a little worried that I hadn't practiced quite enough right before the test, since earlier this week I'd opted instead to go backpacking in Grand Canyon for four days with one of my friends from the team. She's a volunteer for the Park Service and had an opportunity to hike the South Bass Trail to check some archaeological and historical sites for the park. And she invited me to come along. Neither of us had ever hiked this amazing and rather remote trail so I could hardly pass up the chance, though I'd miss two final pre-test tech practice sessions.

But I'm really glad I decided on the hike. Here are some photos:

This is one of the archaeological sites we looked at: granaries used by the Anasazi.

We also saw the remains of the (William Wallace) Bass Camp, the Ross Wheeler Boat on the rocks above Bass Rapids (abandoned in 1915 by Charles Russell and August Tadje after an unsuccessful attempt at running the river), some agave roasting pit,s and other evidence of past human residents of the Canyon.

This is a view from the Esplanade, 1300 vertical feet and a 1.3-mile hike below the South Rim. The Esplanade in this area is covered with vegetation, whereas in other parts of the Canyon it's nothing but rock. Here, we cached a couple of gallons of water where we'd camp on our return trip to the rim...

After leaving the Esplanade, we descended another 3,000 vertical feet over 6.5 miles to the Colorado River, passing through this narrow side canyon in the Red Wall formation along the way. We were glad for the shade on that part of the trail as the temperature soared midday...

By the time we got to the Tonto platform and below, we were starting to roast, but we knew the river was getting closer.

This was our first view of the Colorado River below, which we couldn't see or hear until we were less than a quarter mile from the point where we scrambled a couple hundred feet down to the beach over some very hot rocks...

We were relieved to get to the water, soak our feet, and rest in the little bit of shade provided by some willows. We spent the afternoon and evening on the beach, watching river runners float by, listening to Bass Rapids, and watching butterflies, birds, lizards, and later that night, the stars as we slept on the sand.

And this is the old and somewhat battered Ross Wheeler boat on the rocks above Bass Rapids...

 

For a trip report and more photos, see: Hiking Grand Canyon's South Bass Trail.

I could yack on and on about the hike—now one of my all-time favorite Grand Canyon trips—but to get back to SAR stuff...

I wanted to mention a nine-hour mission that took place last Sunday, the day before I left for the canyon. Make that nine hours of driving, with me bouncing around in the backseat most of the time. These were some of the worst dirt roads I've ever been on. I think my head hit the roof of the vehicle a few times, even though I was wearing my seat belt. Needless to say, I was very relieved—and my neck, back, and backside were very sore—when we finally returned to pavement after finding the overdue West Clear Creek (canyon) hikers at the trailhead and transporting them to their friend's vehicle. They were tired but in good condition, which is always what we hope for, so my sore self was happy about that.

Um... so, I guess that brings my blog up to date for now. And now I'm off to find a needle and thread to attempt to sew my Rock Rescue Tech patch onto my uniform shirt. (Yay! just one more time.)

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...

Back In SAR Action After The Boundary Waters

After two weeks in northern Minnesota, paddling and portaging in the Boundary Waters Wilderness and exploring, I'm back in Flagstaff and ready for more searching and rescuing.

Sounds like there's been some activity while I was away, which I know because as soon as I was in cellphone range again, I received all of the call-out messages there had been: searches for missing hikers, litter-carries, a downed plane. There were messages about technical rescue practice, too. And some of my teammates helped with road blocks at the Grand Canyon during President Obama's visit. There was also another death from dehydration at the Canyon—another young man, 18 years of age. So sad. And so avoidable.

Last night, I got back to practicing my technical skills and I'll be doing more practicing tonight and tomorrow night... if there's no call-out for a mission. The proficiency testing is going to be starting soon, possibly this weekend I heard. Two weeks feels like a long time to be away from practice, especially when many of the skills still aren't well-ingrained in my body or brain. But if last night's practice was any indication, they'll come back pretty quickly.

And now I leave you with some photos from our Boundary Waters trip. If you'd like to read a bit about it, I wrote an article with some more pictures here: A Trip to the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness.

A Lot Of SAR Lately

Between the extra technical rescue practices and two missions, it's been pretty constant SAR activity for the past few days. But that's okay; I really do enjoy it... if you hadn't already noticed.

So, there was the call-out on Sunday at about 8:30a.m. I was dressed for Jazzercise and quickly changed into my nylon, convertible pants and the SAR tee I prefer to wear in the summer instead of my long-sleeved uniform shirt. I switched from aerobics sneakers to hiking shoes just before heading out the door. But there was no hiking to be done this time, just lots of driving. And for a change, I was behind the wheel instead of co-piloting.

We were searching for two men who'd rolled a jeep the day before and, with at least one of them injured (a possible broken arm), they'd called a family member and given some sketchy information about their location before the cellphone had gone kaput. The son of one of the men had spent the night driving unpaved roads, many of them not on the map in a very sparsely populated area around Ashfork, Arizona, consisting mostly of ranch land. But he had no luck finding the men or their overturned vehicle.

Enter SAR.

Given the ambiguous information we received, our search area started out rather large. A subsequent cellphone ping from the last call gave us a vector (if that's the right term—or wedge, I guess), narrowing the search area some. With DPS Ranger, the helicopter, in the air, those of us on the ground relocated and spread out as the information changed.

Ultimately, one of our field teams came across the men, hobbling along near a cattle tank. Ranger landed and administered some initial medical care, then the victims chose to ride in a private family vehicle to the hospital rather than accept transport by ambulance (which wouldn't be free, of course).

For me, driving for hours is much more tiring than hiking for hours, so I was glad to get out of the vehicle and shake off the sleepies back at the SAR building later that day, as we waited for word about a second possible mission. But that one was resolved before we went into the field again.


The next day, as I was doing some work on the computer and listening to the Sheriff's scanner online before heading out for more tech practice (I'm getting the hang of some of this stuff, by George), I overheard the initial stages of some SAR activity and knew there was a good chance of another call-out.

Ranger was in the air with one of our SAR coordinators, looking for six overdue hikers in West Fork Canyon. I called a teammate who was supposed to meet me for tech team practice and gave him a heads-up. We proceeded with our plan and went to the building to work on anchors, belay, and pick-off set-ups and all that good stuff, only to be called minutes later about the mission. So, we headed right over to the coordinator's office, a short walk from the SAR building to the main law enforcement complex, for a briefing.

For a while there, it looked like four of us would be inserted by helicopter into the canyon. They'd spotted three people believed to be from the party of six, and they'd been waving their arms at Ranger. But whether they were in distress or not was unknown. What was known was that they were already a day overdue, one of the women was three months pregnant, and one of the men was allergic to bees and had no Epipen with him, so said the reporting party, a couple who had left the group the day before and hiked out the way they'd gone in.

As I understand it, the group's original plan was to thru-hike the canyon from bottom to top, so they'd done a shuttle and left vehicles at both ends. But the other six didn't show up at the top, and the two hikers who'd come out early became concerned.

While we were in our coordinator's office, he put the reporting party on speaker phone so we could all hear the information firsthand. Then we headed back to the SAR building to get our gear ready and then head over to the airport to meet Ranger.

Then a plan was carried out that changed our mission from a possible all-nighter to an early morning hike. A radio was lowered from the helicopter to the three people in the canyon, along with instructions on how to use it. Ranger was then able to talk to the hikers and find out the situation, including the fact that they were tired but generally fine. Three of the six had gone ahead to hike out with their four dogs, while the other half of the group, including the pregnant woman and the man allergic to bees, stayed behind, too exhausted and not fast enough to make the rest of the distance that night.

So three of us SAR folks volunteered to meet at 4 a.m. and hike in at first light to locate the three remaining hikers, make sure they were still okay, and hike out with them. Then we resumed tech practice for the rest of the evening.


My alarm went off far too soon at 3 a.m., but I never mind an early morning walk up West Fork. It's really neat to be in there at dawn, when the birds start singing along with the sound of the creek, and the red canyon walls are illuminated by the rising sun.

Oh, sorry, I started to slip into waxing poetic-mode there.

So anyhow... as we hiked, we periodically tried to contact the hikers on the radio, unsure if they'd left it on all night or if they were still asleep or had started walking toward us. At one point, when we'd gone about five miles up canyon, we started to wonder if we'd missed them somehow and passed one another. It would have been unlikely but possible. We got no response to our repeated, loud whistle blasts, either.

Just as we began hiking back to recheck the parking lot where their car had been when we'd started out, I heard static on my radio. I called again: "West Fork, party of three, this is search and rescue. Do you copy?" After more static, I heard a reply. At 7:15, they were just waking up and getting ready to hike out. And they were still all fine.


In a short time, the three of them and the three of us were together, and after a brief conversation about what had happened—they'd taken a wrong turn and gone up Casner Cabin Draw instead of continuing in West Fork—we turned back toward the parking lot. The weary and appreciative hikers were happy to be on trail again after all their bush-whacking, wading, and swimming.

So, all ended well, and by noon, still in my SAR clothes, I was asleep on the couch with my cellphone on the coffee table, just in case something else SAR came up.