Support the Team: Coconino County Search & Rescue Film Night and Fundraiser

Hi, folks and faithful followers...

I know it's been ages since I've posted anything here—life has been so busy, so I've had to let some things slip, including blogging—but [waving like a nut] I'm still here and still loving being part of SAR and proud to be a member of this wonderful team of volunteers here in Coconino County. Matter of fact, I intend to keep at it for as long as I can be of service in some capacity, which hopefully will be for decades to come.

From a search in Havasupai Canyon

So, there have been many missions since I last posted, a few that took me into part of this amazing county I've never been (Paria Canyon, Havasupai, Sundance Canyon) and others in places that have become so familiar over the past six years I've been on the team. I haven't been able to respond as often as I used to because of other obligations and a few vacations, but I'm doing as much as I can, as often as I can, and looking forward to helping with the new member academy coming up soon.

Anyhoo... to the main point of this post:

I wanted to pass along news of an upcoming film night and fundraiser, which you can attend at two different places: the Orpheum Theater here in Flagstaff on September 17th or the Pollack Tempe Cinemas in Tempe on the 18th. Here's the official scoop from the Facebook announcement...

American Canyoneers has launched a fundraising campaign to help the team help us. These funds will be used for the purchase of critical equipment and training for team members.

How can you help? Easy! Come watch a few great films about canyoneering! Along the way you’ll see a presentation by the SAR team about the rescue in Insomnia Canyon, certainly one of the most difficult slot canyon rescues ever. You’ll be stunned at the effort the team had to put into saving one life. Join us in Flagstaff on September 17th at the Orpheum Theater or in Tempe on September 18th at the Pollack Tempe Cinemas.

Have fun, celebrate our favorite pastime, learn how you can avoid being the next victim, and support our SAR team.

Check out the schedule for the evening and more about the films at http://www.americancanyoneers.org/coconino-sar-fund-raiser/

You can order tickets (and make an additional donation to SAR if you'd like) here: http://americancanyoneers1.eventbrite.com/

Hope you can make it!

Climb On!

Climb on. Okay... I can do that. Sort of. I did a little of this (once) with the team at the Mt. Elden climbing area and got, oh, maybe 10 feet off the ground—felt like 100 feet to me—partly by wedging my face into a crack. Probably a deduction in style points for that move.

This time, we were at the Vertical Relief Climbing Gym here in Flagstaff, getting some special instruction from two of their experts, happy to be training indoors on that cold, rainy Sunday morning. This was training specifically to help us with buttom-up rescues, when we can't access the rescue-ee(s) from above, which is the norm for our team. But we do come across situations, as recently happened on a rescue down in Sedona (see link to news article below), where some climbing comes into play when there's no way to rig rope systems from the top.

A number of our tech team members are already good climbers, and I believe at least a couple of them would be considered expert level themselves. Others are very competent. But there are some, especially me, who are new to this bottom-up stuff, so this was very valuable training and not the last we'll do.

We were given an excellent intro to top-rope and lead-climbing techniques, as well oh-so-important belaying skills, which are different, of course, from the bottom than they are when belaying someone on rappel or who's ascending or being raised from above.

Needless to say, I'm much more comfortable belaying than being belayed while climbing. Sure, I still have my share of nerves when I go over the edge from the top (always will, I think), but climbing up is another story. Instead of being able to put my weight on the rope and trusting the system when working from the top, climbing makes me feel like I'm always on the verge of falling, even though I know someone's "got me" and that things have been safety-checked.

Someone recommended I need to actually fall a few times... onto the belay, of course... to get over that feeling. Probably true.

Anyway, this is what I posted on Facebook yesterday about that experience at the climbing gym:   

I was not good at it. I was scared, and I tossed what pride I have out the window. But every time I learned something new (different ways to use the handholds, how to shift my weight, etc.)... and every time I got higher up the wall... and when I made it down-climbing all the way back despite my shaking muscles (from nerves and the fact that I don't use some of those muscles very often), I felt just a tiny bit more confidence creep in. Part of me really wants to learn how to climb—mostly at the gym—just to get better at something that is so NOT a natural talent for me, that challenges me both mentally and physically, and something that makes me face my fear but in a safe way. I think I'll put that on my to-do/wish list.

So, I think I'll start saving my extra pennies and eventually take some lessons. In the meantime, I'm actually looking forward (in a nervous, insecure kinda way) to more of these bottom-up trainings with the team.


Recent Local Search & Rescue Missions and SAR Members in the News

Rescue Crews Save Freezing Homeless Man

Massive Effort Rescues Man from Bottom of Meteor Crater (January 10 -- A major, multi-agency rescue involving in frigid, windy conditions and a difficult confined space extraction)

Stranded Hikers Rescued Near Sedona (This is that bottom-up rescue I was referring to. I was not able to respond to this tech team call-out.)

A Day in the Life: Getting Paid to Hike (A story about one of our SAR teammates, who's also a backcountry guide in Grand Canyon)

A Happy SAR Ending for the New Year

Wikimedia Commons / CC

I know it's been a while since I've written anything here, and the reasons are many, including the fact that we just haven't received as many SAR calls over the past several months as we did before that, during my five years and counting on the team.

And that's a good thing! It may be that more calls have been resolved by Sheriff's deputies before they've gotten to the point that the team was needed and/or perhaps fewer people have gotten into bad SAR-type situations recently... at least, in our area.

Whatever the case may be, my phone hasn't rung nearly as much with "SAR" showing up on the display.

But there have been missions, including some technical rescues I've not been able to respond to. I'm just not always allowed to write about the missions I'm involved with... unfortunately for me, being the prolific writer-type. So, I sometimes have to sit on my hands.

Suffice it to say, some of those missions haven't had happy endings like the one that just happened yesterday, when a seven-year-old boy who'd been missing since about 10 a.m. the day before was reunited with his family after an extensive search that included search and rescue teams from several counties, with ground-pounders, K9, and mounted units, jeep posses, and air support from DPS and the Air Force, along with the many locals who came out to help search. Cole Evans had spent a long, cold night alone "out there," under an abandoned trailer, so we learned when he was finally located around nine-something the next morning.

Here's an article about the search with a great photo of Cole's reunion with his dad: Missing Seligman Boy Found

All I can say is: YAY! What a huge relief. As I was searching through much of the night with my field team, I kept noticing the cold—at freezing or below with snow still on the ground among the pinion, juniper, and cactus—thinking about Cole and wondering if he was cold and scared.  As we searched beneath trees and up in the branches, and under and inside abandoned vehicles and trailers, I kept hoping that someone would say over the radio that the boy been found. It didn't matter who found him of course—just that he was safe.

As my group debriefed back at Incident Command in the middle of the night, I looked over at the house Cole should be in, warm and safe. I saw the lights on and thought about what the family inside must be going through.

As my search partner and I drove away, talking to ward off the need for sleep after our shift, we saw lights of searchers' headlamps glimmering in the distance, the headlights from searchers' vehicles, red and blue flashing lights from law enforcement vehicles, lights in the sky from searching aircraft, and we wondered if Cole was seeing or hearing any of that.

Needless to say, I was so relieved to hear, later that morning after I'd gotten some rest and pulled prickly pear spines out of my socks, that Cole had been found, and that he was "fine" and eating snacks. I began to see the happy announcement posted all over social media, where people had been sharing search updates from the media and worrying together about the boy.

Thinking about recent missions that didn't have a similar outcome, this one left me with a very big smile and a happy heart. Let's hope the trend continues.