Over The Edge: Technical Rescue Simulations

Most of us didn't know this would be a simulation instead of just a regular training session—not until we got to the site and were suddenly given a briefing and our initial assignments. But as flustered as I was at first, I'm glad we did this and hope we'll do more mock technical rescues in the near future. Putting skills together under pressure—and, simulated or not, I definitely felt the pressure—is a good way to test yourself and the team, to really see where improvement and more practice is needed.

So, there were two victims over the edge following a car crash (drunk driving, I heard). This was considered "steep-angle" terrain, not low-angle and not high-angle (a cliff) either. The footing was precarious, with loose rocks all over—a significant hazard for both rescuers and victims below—which is why one of the victims got up and moved when I started coming down with the first litter, dislodging rocks as I went. Definitely something I need to pay more attention to and not descend directly above anyone. BIG note made to self on that one!

Matter of fact, my notes to self during yesterday's exercise (well, exercises, because we did more than one) could have filled several notebook pages if I'd written them all down. They included things like, "Practice, practice, practice your knots, Deb," and "When on a steep-angle raise, attach a prusik from my harness to either the main line or belay line and another from my harness to the litter, then lean back. Let the haulers do the work and don't try to lift the litter." Boy, did I learn that second thing the hard way!

Here are some photos from the day's first exercise:

As part of the hasty team, Sueanne (in black) prepares to rappel down to one of the two patients to asses his condition. Meanwhile, another member of the hasty team (not in the picture) rappels to the second patient...

Robert sets up a wrap three/pull two anchor for a raising system...

Scott works the 540 belay....

                

And in other news...

It looks like I'll be attending a seven-day Ropes That Rescue Mountain Rescue Workshop in Sedona in February. I definitely need to have my knots down pat by then!

Snow Play SAR Style

It was kind of funny. There we are, riding around (and around and around) on snowmobiles and in the snowcat and the vehicle with the Mattracks, while families with children are sledding and building snowmen and igloos in our midst. Besides "Don't break anything," the big rule of the day was "Don't squash any kids." I'm happy to report we didn't do either one.

But there were no families with kids around when we first got to our training area on Saturday, just some campers who'd spent the night near the cellphone tower. Our rather large group of SAR folks, Forest Service personnel, and deputies interrupted their morning solitude when we arrived our contingent of cars, trucks, and "snow play equipment" and proceeded to divide ourselves into groups for the various stations. In addition to the snow machines, we also had a snowshoeing and winter gear review station.

It was a fun day. I enjoyed seeing my teammates after quite a long stretch without any missions. I also learned some new things. And I got past—though not over—my fear of loading and unloading the snowcat from its trailer. (Thanks for not letting me back out, Sergeant D.) Darn, I wish I had pictures of how the snowcat trailer works, but I forgot my camera that day.

Suffice it to say,when I climbed into the driver's seat, my experienced teammate on the passenger side yelled, "Hey, anybody know if the airbags are workin' in this thing?" (No, there ARE no air bags in a snowcat.) But I think I did a pretty okay job of it. After all, I didn't dump the beast off the side of the trailer. I trusted my teammates—the one in the vehicle with me and the one out front—to guide me through it. And I managed to pull it off with only one "duh" moment. ("Why isn't this thing moving forward? I asked. And my teammate replied, "Because you have to put your foot on the gas." Yeah... I knew that. I was just nervous, you see.)

Trust, though... that's something we talked about briefly on the drive back to the SAR building. It's a really good feeling to have people around who you know you can rely on, who have your best interest and safety at heart and care about what happens to you. To me, it doesn't matter that I see most of these folks just during SAR missions, trainings, and meetings; I still trust them with my life — like when I rappel over the edge during tech training. If a teammate I trust has safety-checked everything, I feel as secure as possible (which will never be completely secure) and know that things will be okay.

A SAR-Related Trip To Nepal

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!