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.

Winter Training for Winter Searching and Rescuing

I have band-aids on six toes. I didn't realize the tops were rubbed raw until I stepped into the shower and yowee! I looked down at my feet and realized I'd left some skin somewhere.

It was snowshoeing down the mountain that did it. Today, a teammate and I enjoyed some fitness training on Mt. Agassiz at the Arizona Snowbowl for the second time this week. It's not uncommon for missions to take place on the peaks, and some extra time and effort at altitude can definitely pay off when the pager goes off. So I'm glad my teammate invited me to drag myself out of bed before dawn to huff and puff up a couple thousand feet on the hard-packed snow and ice, only to go right back down that steeply angled snow and ice. We've had two great days on the mountain in perfect weather, and I feel better prepared as a result.

Before these two climbs, I'd never really tested my MSR snowshoes on ice or very steep slopes. And now I have a better idea of what they can do. There were times today on the ascent when the angle was so steep, I had to dig in with the spikes on the toes of my snowshoes and keep my momentum going as my calves screamed, so I wouldn't end up careening down the mountain on my back.

On the descents, I followed my teammate's instructions and took small, slow steps, and, to my relief, the snowshoes did the job. I had Jell-o legs by the time we reached the lodge, but at least I stayed upright.

Also on the training front, our team had that snowmobile class I'd been waiting for. I'm still uncomfortable with loading the machines onto the trailers, afraid I'll shoot right off the back, but, otherwise, I'm now team certified to drive. (At least, I think I am.) So I bought a collapsible backcountry shovel for digging myself out whenever I get the thing stuck, which I now know firsthand isn't hard to do, even in ideal conditions.

Oh, I almost forgot...

We did have another call-out recently. It was a pretty straightforward mission involving an out-of-town family who'd gotten their vehicle stuck on a snow-covered Forest Service road and weren't quite sure of their location. Luckily, the DPS helicopter was available to do a fly-over, and they spotted the vehicle and, therefore, expedited the mission. The vacationing family was retrieved and taken to a motel for the night, to deal with their stranded vehicle the next day.

Missed Missions and Being Missed

That was nice! A teammate called to check up on me because I've not been able to respond to the last two missions. You could say that's a bit unusual for me—missing two SAR missions in a row—and not something I prefer. But how cool it is to be missed.

Following the recent search for a 12-year-old girl, which thankfully ended well, my pager was silent until 7:15 on Friday morning, January 23. I knew I couldn't respond, but by habit, I had to call in anyway to hear what the call-out was for. The short message simply stated there was a possible downed aircraft.

Oh man, I thought, and I'm gonna be stuck in a hair salon? I take care of my mom, you see, and she doesn't drive. And she had scheduled her monthly hair appointment, which I had to take her to, as always. Needless to say, I fidgeted and paced for two hours, waiting for her dye-and-set to be finished, reluctantly listening to salon-style chatter, all the while knowing my teammates were "out there" somewhere. Every time the hairdresser would stop working in order to make hand gestures to help prove the point she was making, my knee would start bouncing and my foot tapping, and I could feel my blood pressure rise.

When I finally got home after dropping my mom off back at her own house, I thought about calling our SAR captain to tell him I'd be available to join the team in the field if need be, but first I went online and found two breaking news updates. When I refreshed the webpage, a third appeared. And before long, as I continued reading, my phone rang and I heard from a teammate who'd talked to another teammate who'd been on scene, and I knew I need not call.

Read all four breaking news updates from that day (in descending order) here. Two Flagstaff men died in the crash.

Only minutes after concluding the call with my teammate, I turned on the television and immediately saw news of the crash, including an interview with the deputy who was dealing with a traffic stop at the very moment the small aircraft flew right over his head and heard the impact moments later.

A couple of days later, on the snowy, windy, very cold evening of January 25, my pager went off again. Steve and I were in a restaurant at the time (that favorite sushi place of ours I mentioned in my last post), and I called in to find out what was going on. A technical rescue on Mt. Elden. I thought for a moment, knowing that non-technical team members were welcome to respond and go along in case we could be of help carrying gear or performing any other non-technical tasks that might arise.

On the other hand, Steve and I had driven to the restaurant in one vehicle (we sometimes take separate cars, just in case there's a call-out), and I'd first have to drop him off at home before responding. This would take at least 20 minutes, and then I'd have the drive across town. I didn't want to hold the team up and wasn't sure I'd actually be needed anyway... so I decided not to respond.

As Steve and I drove home after dinner, I looked over at the mountain, mostly hidden in the clouds, and shivered. I knew my teammates were probably still up there on that wet and wintry night and felt a pang of remorse at not being out there, too.

But such is life as a SAR volunteer. Sometimes you just have to pass.
Read Stranded Hikers Rescued from Elden Cliffs from the Arizona Daily Sun.