Now that I'm sure about my upcoming adventure, I thought I'd share it with you.
Several weeks ago, the founder of Nepal's only search and rescue team, Dutchman Ingo Schnabel, contacted me to see if I'd be interested in writing a book about them. This would mean spending three months with him and the rest of the Himalaya Rescue Dog Squad Nepal (HRDSN) this summer. At first, I was hesitant... for a few hours. Then I woke up in the middle of the night and thought, hmm, why not! So that's what I'll be doing from April through July.
Twenty years ago this past October, Ingo followed through on his dream of starting a SAR team in Nepal. Ingo explains how this came about in a post on Nepal Friends in Times of Need. He wrote:
"I was sitting in Maastricht in the Netherlands in front of the television, a beer in one hand and potato chips in the other. I was just 41 years old and had traveled half the world. I was a researcher in Africa, a dog trainer (Imperial Iranian Air Force) and Biology teacher in Tehran, then called the Empire of Iran, where Shah-Han-Shah Reza Pahlevi, the powerful Emperor, crumbled at that time and I had to leave.
"Back in the Netherlands, I tried my best to settle down, and I got fat and lazy. Then suddenly, in front of that TV, I saw a program about the misery after the earthquake in Darjeeling and Dharan in 1988. I remembered that I had promised to my Tibetan friend Lobsang that I would come to India and Nepal and start a dog breeding center for earthquake relief. I jumped up, switched off the TV, and selected six dogs from different local breeding centers and started fundraising and their training in Maastricht at the motorcycle road race trajectory in the forest. A year later, on October 8, 1989, I arrived with these dogs in Nepal and have never left the country since."
During those 20 years in Nepal, Ingo and the team have started hospitals in remote areas of the country and even a special school that doesn't adhere to Nepal's caste system. They respond to natural disasters, such as earthquakes, landslides and flashfloods, mass casualty and medical situations, and to reports of missing and injured trekkers. The more I learn about Ingo and the HRDSN, the more fascinated and excited I am about the trip. I only hope I can do their story justice. I'll write the book when I return to Arizona.
In the meantime, I'll be writing about it here occasionally before I go and will include updates while I'm in the country.
So, have any of you ever been there? Not me!
These are my stories as a volunteer member of the Sheriff's Search and Rescue team in Coconino County, Arizona. I'll share what it's like to go from a beginner with a lot to learn to an experienced and, hopefully, valuable member of the team, as well as the missions, training, and other activities along the way.
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.
---------------------------------------
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.
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.
---------------------------------------
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 Day At Home? We'll See!
It's 10 a.m. on Sunday, and I'm warm and toasty with my warm and toasty dog, a mug of hot cocoa, and fleece from head to toe as I watch the snow fall outside the large window opposite my chair. I just heard my husband drive by in the plow, which he operates for his employer (and our home), Lowell Observatory, up here on Mars Hill at the edge of Observatory Mesa. I must say, it's nice to be in here and not out there right now.
On Friday at this time, I was en route to the Upper Basin area near Grand Canyon to help retrieve a stranded snowmobile. That is, a snowmobile belonging to our team that had broken down in the field late one night during a mission. So, three teammates and I were asked to go back and rescue it.
There's Todd, steering the machine as we tow it out behind the vehicle with the Mattrax. I'm afraid he got dumped off several times along the way.
We were also asked to check on a hunting camp while we were out there, to make sure the occupant had made it out safely. And, yep, the camp was deserted except for the snowed-in RV trailer.
We returned to Flagstaff the same evening.
On Saturday at this time, I was on a snowmobile myself, back in that same Upper Basin I've become familiar with after three recent missions in the area. This time, we were looking for a group of overdue woodcutters. I hadn't driven a snowmobile since January, and I was a bit rusty.
If you've been reading my blog for a while, you know I'm not too great with machinery to begin with. I do think my skills are improving (a little), but I did dump the snowmobile (and myself) yesterday when I hit a deep tire rut and didn't give the heavy thing enough gas to get myself (and the machine) out of it before the machine (and I) tipped over. Other than some snow down my shirt, though, and somehow a little down my ski pants (Ooh, cold!), I was all in one piece and so was the snowmobile, which my teammate and I righted back onto its skis.
Further on in our search, we had to dig him out once and me out twice while maneuvering through deep, untouched snow. With me, it was again a matter of not giving the snowmobile enough juice during turns, so I got bogged down in drifts. After more than 20 miles on the thing, though, I was starting to get better at handling the snowmobile and was learning to speed up rather than give in to my tendency to let off the throttle in tricky spots.
Oh, and about the woodcutters: A couple of our teammates found them, camped not far off a main, paved road, perfectly fine and not lost or stranded at all. Just another one of those cases of family miscommunication (or lack thereof).
So, we all made our way back to Incident Command, loaded up, and returned to Flagstaff, with just enough time to go home and clean up before our team's annual holiday party.
One of our teammates did have to miss the party, though, because he and one of the SAR coordinators, a deputy, had to go back to that very same area to rescue another stranded camper. If this past week has been any indication of the winter to come, we're going to be one very busy team!
On Friday at this time, I was en route to the Upper Basin area near Grand Canyon to help retrieve a stranded snowmobile. That is, a snowmobile belonging to our team that had broken down in the field late one night during a mission. So, three teammates and I were asked to go back and rescue it.
There's Todd, steering the machine as we tow it out behind the vehicle with the Mattrax. I'm afraid he got dumped off several times along the way.We were also asked to check on a hunting camp while we were out there, to make sure the occupant had made it out safely. And, yep, the camp was deserted except for the snowed-in RV trailer.
We returned to Flagstaff the same evening.
On Saturday at this time, I was on a snowmobile myself, back in that same Upper Basin I've become familiar with after three recent missions in the area. This time, we were looking for a group of overdue woodcutters. I hadn't driven a snowmobile since January, and I was a bit rusty.
If you've been reading my blog for a while, you know I'm not too great with machinery to begin with. I do think my skills are improving (a little), but I did dump the snowmobile (and myself) yesterday when I hit a deep tire rut and didn't give the heavy thing enough gas to get myself (and the machine) out of it before the machine (and I) tipped over. Other than some snow down my shirt, though, and somehow a little down my ski pants (Ooh, cold!), I was all in one piece and so was the snowmobile, which my teammate and I righted back onto its skis.
Further on in our search, we had to dig him out once and me out twice while maneuvering through deep, untouched snow. With me, it was again a matter of not giving the snowmobile enough juice during turns, so I got bogged down in drifts. After more than 20 miles on the thing, though, I was starting to get better at handling the snowmobile and was learning to speed up rather than give in to my tendency to let off the throttle in tricky spots.
Oh, and about the woodcutters: A couple of our teammates found them, camped not far off a main, paved road, perfectly fine and not lost or stranded at all. Just another one of those cases of family miscommunication (or lack thereof).
So, we all made our way back to Incident Command, loaded up, and returned to Flagstaff, with just enough time to go home and clean up before our team's annual holiday party.
One of our teammates did have to miss the party, though, because he and one of the SAR coordinators, a deputy, had to go back to that very same area to rescue another stranded camper. If this past week has been any indication of the winter to come, we're going to be one very busy team!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)