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.

SAR Ops: A Different Perspective

It's one thing to learn about search and rescue operations ("ops") and the Incident Command System (ICS) in the classroom and do table-top exercises with other SAR ops students—it's quite another to actually do those things... or assist, anyway... in the field.

Although I've responded to a few ops leader call-outs for mission startups (to help the coordinator before a general call-out is made), I had my first "real" chance to help with field ops during our team's recent mock search for the annual new member SAR Academy. Actually, I was asked to lead the exercise, and, though I didn't have the experience necessary to act as Incident Commander, even on a "pretend" mission, I agreed to step up and do it. I wanted to jump in and get some of that real ops experience, mock search or not.

The purpose of this field exercise, held at the end of the SAR Academy, is to give new members an idea of what an actual mission is like, beginning with receiving the call/email/text message call-out, phoning in to the SAR line with their name and badge number, and responding to the SAR building. Then it's a matter of getting all equipment, radios, and SAR vehicles ready to go and receiving a briefing and their strike team (or task force) assignments. From there, students work with their team members in the field, including navigating and handling radio communications, and documenting and relaying information about clues. Once the subject(s) is/are found, the students come up with an evacuation plan and move the subject(s) out of the field, back to base. Finally, they debrief and go through other aspects of wrapping up a mission, particularly the "hasty" search phase, which is when the majority of missing or overdue subjects are located. The field exercise gives new members a chance, with the help of experienced team members, to put together all the skills they've learned during the SAR Academy and put them to practical use.

All I can say is, I'm grateful for the help and support of several members of the team who have a lot more ops experience than I do. While I was able to facilitate the planning (I'm good at sending out emails!) and help carry out this field exercise, which was a search for two overdue subjects in a wooded area near Flagstaff, there was much I didn't know how to do or that would have taken me too long to figure out on my own. For example, I didn't know how to work the computer program to create the specific maps we needed for the briefing packets; I would have taken a lot longer to come up with assignments for all of the field teams, both ground SAR and mounted, on my own; and I would have been overwhelmed as the IC (incident commander). So many things going on all at once, and many of those things in constant flux.

To expect that a mission—even a mock mission where we plan the locations for our "missing" subjects to be found—will go off just as planned from beginning to end would be to expect the nearly impossible, as I see it. I could lie there in bed at 2 a.m., as I did one night when I couldn't sleep, and imagine the whole thing, from call-out to debrief at the conclusion of the search, as a nice, orderly mental movie. In reality, things didn't go quite as I'd imagined (or planned), starting right from that call-out, which was sent to new members and those experienced team members who'd volunteered to help as "observers."

After the call-out was finally made at 8:10 a.m., it took longer than expected for everyone to arrive at the SAR building. And an assignment was changed last minute. And the unpaved Forest Service road the mounted unit members had to drive with their horse trailers and horses to get to their starting point turned out to be in much worse shape than expected (compared to the last time any of us were out there). And the shuttling of ground-pounder strike teams was rather complex and time-consuming. (Did I mention some of those roads are really bad?) And that "jeep track" on the map—the one where I instructed one of our subjects to leave a clue she was given and then, further along that jeep track, to hang out with her mock ankle injury and wait to be found and rescued—well, that jeep track wasn't really there anymore, so she couldn't find it.  And the list goes on.

One thing I had some good practice at during this process was delegating. In some cases, I didn't have to ask. The team members who helped me with the planning gladly offered to take on tasks, and I went from one person to the other, looking over their shoulders, helping where I could, asking questions, and listening and watching and learning. Then, when the call-out was made, we had the added help from those experienced observers, who gave direction to the new folks as they arrived at the building, helped them understand their assignments and find their starting points on the maps, directed them in loading equipment and preparing to leave the bay, and assisted with all other aspects of the mission.

Me? Oh, I ran around. A lot. I shuttled searchers and eventually the Stokes litter and medical supplies to the evac team. And I assisted at Incident Command as information came in over the radio and teams in the field asked for direction as the search went on. I didn't do any hiking that day, but, wow, when I got home I felt like I'd walked miles.

All in all, the field exercise went well, and I think (hope) all new members got something useful out of it. Actually, I'm sure they did, including better understanding the fact that we all need to be flexible during missions because things are continuously changing and that sometimes we get assignments that may seem "boring" or "useless" but are actually vital to the mission, including doing containment and also finding out where a missing person is not.  There were new members who actually said those things to me—that the field exercise helped them realize those aspects of search and rescue—and that definitely was good to hear.

So, I'm holding on to the briefing packet and the notes I made this time around and want to participate with planning and ops again next year, hopefully by then with more confidence and skills I can bring to the table.

One thing's for sure: I now have an even better appreciation for how challenging SAR ops is and really admire those who can handle sometimes very stressful and complex missions so well. It can be easy to comment from a searcher's point of view on how things are managed and carried out, but putting myself even just somewhat in the position of a SAR ops leader has given me a whole new perspective. Not to mention the desire to get a whole lot better at it.

Welcome, Tank! Our Team's Newest Certified, 4-Legged Member

Tank (Used with permission from D. Christian)

Isn't he a beauty? This is Tank, a two-year-old bloodhound–Labrador retriever mix, owned and loved by his handler, Diane, who's been involved with search and rescue for many years. Diane is retired from law enforcement, where she worked with SAR and police detection dogs for explosives and tracking. She got her first tracking dog in 1992. Tank is her third hound. 

Together, they recently passed the highest K-9 trailing certification in the country: NASAR SARTECH Canine Trailing I. 

For information on the various NASAR Canine certifications and what those tests entail, see NASAR Canine SAR or go directly to their PDF file on Canine Certification Programs.

Tank, a rescue dog out of a shelter in Los Angeles, is actually a tracking canine with a trailing certification. This means that our team is now fortunate to have both a tracking/trailing dog and three cross-trained air-scent/human remains detection dogs to assist with our missions. All the dogs and their handlers train (which is like play time to the dogs) at least a few times each week to keep up their skills and their fitness.

For those who aren't familiar with the different types of SAR K9s and the way they work, here's a basic overview:  

Tracking Dogs — This type of SAR dog works from a scent article that has the subject's odor on it, such as a piece of clothing or hat, a pillow case, a hair brush, and so forth. (It's best if the handler collect the scent article so it's done correctly and not contaminated with someone else's scent.) The dog picks up the specific human scent from that item and uses it to locate the path that person took. Tracking dogs generally work on a long lead, taking the handler to the subject by following the missing person's footsteps.  

Trailing Dogs — Trailing dogs work in a manner that's very similar to tracking dogs. A scent article is carefully obtained in order to isolate the missing person's scent. The search dog then smells the scent article and uses that smell to find and follow the path the person took. With trailing dogs, though, the dog might veer off the missing person's actual track, cutting corners and using the wind to its advantage. Trailing dogs generally work on a 20- to 30-foot lead.  

Air Scent Dogs — Unlike tracking and trailing dogs, air scent dogs work off-lead, ranging back and forth to pick up human scent. ANY human scent, that is, which is why it's important to test wind direction and, as much as possible, keep other people (i.e., searchers) downwind of the dog while its searching an area. Ranging often takes the air-scent dog out of the handler's sight for a time, so the handler must trust the dog and wait for an alert. Once the dog picks up human scent, they'll move in toward the source and then give an alert to the handler. That alert might be barking while staying with the source of the scent or might be done by returning to the handler and somehow conveying to that person, "Follow me!" The dog then leads the handler to the subject.

In general, air scent dogs are not scent-discriminating the way tracking/trailing dogs are, so scent articles are not used. Rather, the air scent dog will seek out any human scent and alert the handler. If the human who's located is not the subject, the handler will reward the dog for the find and then give the command to continue searching.

There are variations to the above, but those are the basics.

Here's another shot of Tank at work...

Photo used with permission by D. Christian

In other Coconino County SAR news, these are missions our team has recently been involved with:

Climber Injured in Oak Creek Fall: A 43-year-old Flagstaff man fell about 40 feet while climbing near the Oak Creek Canyon overlook on Monday. A tourist saw the man fall and called 911. A technical rescue followed, with cooperation by crews from Coconino County Search & Rescue, the Sedona Fire Department, and the Highlands Fire Department.

Crews Search Oak Creek for Missing Minnesota Man: 27-year-old Shaun Rentz of Minnesota was reported missing after he failed to meet with friends over the weekend and then didn't show up to move in with friends at their new home in the Twin Cities on Monday. His abandoned vehicle was then located near Flagstaff, Arizona, at the Oak Creek Canyon Overlook parking area, later that same day. Here's another article with additional information and a photo of Shaun: Car of Missing Twin Cities Man Found in Arizona.

Any questions about these or other SAR missions in Coconino County should be directed to the Coconino County Sheriff's Office.

A Change of SAR Plans -- Community Education to a Rescue Instead

I was supposed to go to a day camp with three other SAR members, to help teach kids ranging in age from five to 12 how to use a compass, what makes a "good pack" versus a "bad pack" (that is, gear you should bring on a hike versus stuff to leave at home), and how to not get lost or to "get found" if you do. We went to this summer camp last year, and our program was a hit with campers and camp leaders alike, so they'd asked us to come back.

And I was going to, until right before I was supposed to leave the house. That's when there was a call-out for a rescue, possibly technical the message said, in the Dorsey Springs area of Sycamore Canyon.

So, per the request of the deputy coordinating the mission, I bailed on my teammates going to the camp and responded to the rescue instead.

Late the night before, there had been a call-out for the search for this 41-year-old overdue hiker who now needed rescue. I hadn't responded to that call because of my prior commitment to the camp program in the morning. Apparently, this man was at least a day overdue when a concerned family member had reported him missing, and his vehicle had been located by deputies at the Dorsey Springs trailhead. Just after dawn, searchers had found him down in the canyon, severely dehydrated, weak, and disoriented.

By the time those of us responding to the rescue call later that morning arrived at the trailhead, the hiker had been hydrated and slowly walked with aid partway up the trail. At that point, the man said he couldn't walk anymore. The two deputies who were with him requested assistance and more water. Several of us hiked in with supplies to meet up with them.

When we arrived, the man was sitting under a tree. He drank some Gatorade and spoke to one of our teammates, who's a paramedic. The man said he was okay except for being dehydrated and clearly explained what had happened over the past several days. The searchers who'd found first his backpack and then, maybe a few hundred yards away, the subject filled us in on his state of mind and actions at the time he was located. He'd made quite an improvement after having something to drink and eat.

Sadly, the two dogs he'd brought on the multi-day hike—adult, black-colored boxers, a male and a female—were nowhere to be found. They'd stopped following him at least a day and a half earlier and laid down in the shade. Had they had enough left in them to find their way back to the last water source they'd been at with the man? I hoped they had. And that they'd survive long enough for someone to find them. I was preoccupied by those thoughts as I watched the short-haul procedure, when the man was air-lifted to the trailhead. He refused medical transport by the waiting ambulance.

Lessons for the day: Carry a lot of water if hiking in hot desert canyons during the summer. Hike early and hike late, and rest in the shade during the day. Know where the water sources are, and make sure they currently have water in them. Call the Forest Service or whichever agency oversees the area and check on those sources. For Sycamore Canyon, that would be:

Coconino Forest Supervisor's Office
1824 S. Thompson St.
Flagstaff, AZ 86001
(928) 527-3600
Fax: (928) 527-3620

Update: I've been told that one of the two dogs that had been lost in the canyon has been located alive and returned home. The other has not been found yet. So keep an eye out if you're down there!

An All-Night Search in Ashfork

I was tired. When the call came from SAR, I was sitting in a Lay-Z-Boy being very lazy. It was around 9 p.m., and I was ready for bed. I listened to the short message about the mission, looked at the text that came through seconds later, and put the phone back down. "Not this time," I told Jeremy.

But then, two minutes later, Cindy, our K9 handler, called me directly. Our coordinator was requesting the dogs, and would I be her backer, she asked. *sigh* Okay, for Cindy I would go. So, I met her at the SAR building about 20 minutes later and loaded my gear into her vehicle to the tune of three excited golden retrievers. They'd already hiked several miles earlier that day, but they were still rearing to go. The two of us two-legged creatures, though? Not so much.

We got our brief briefing—a 70-year-old gentleman with what sounded like a moderate level of dementia (possibly Alzheimer's) had now been missing nearly 24 hours after driving someone else's vehicle to the very rural area where he lives, then left the vehicle in the trees near a dirt road and walked away.  This was not the first time he'd gotten lost while trying to go home.

Cindy and I left the SAR building ahead of our teammates as they got some additional gear ready. We were supposed to rendezvous with two deputies who were at the location where the abandoned vehicle had been found. That was now the initial planning point (IPP). From there, we'd begin our search with the dogs, and the other volunteers would soon follow.

When we  found our way to the waiting deputies through a network of dusty roads and jackrabbits (actually managed not to hit any as they streaked across the murky beams of our headlights), we consulted with them (the deputies that is, not the rabbits) about what had and had not been found and determined the area we thought was the highest probability. Then it was time to let the excited dogs out to do their thing: search.

"Your assignment," Cindy half-whispered to the three wet noses that turned her way, "should you choose to accept it... is..." After the usual dramatic pause, she shouted, "Go find!" Three fuzzy golden tails shot off into the dark as we followed much more slowly. We would walk the grid, and the dogs would range around us as we moved.

As the backer, it was my job to handle radio communications, navigate the grid within our search area given the information from Cindy about wind direction and her instructions about how she wanted to work the dogs, and keep us all on track. "Go a little more left," I would say, then, "Turn a bit more to the right," as I stayed behind and to the side of Cindy, trying to make a pretty little grid pattern on my GPS while still looking around.

In the light of my headlamp, obscured by the dust we were kicking up as we walked across bone-dry ground, I tried to manage the topo map and my GPS without walking into a pinion, juniper, or ponderosa pine or tripping on rocks, dips, and forest debris. Needless to say, on more than a few occasions I had to say to Cindy, "I need to stop to get this figured out. I can't walk and try to read a map and GPS at the same time." Yeah, I was moving and searching and calling the subject's name, but I was cranky, too.

I was also still frustrated because it had taken a while for me to get myself oriented that night, out there in the fairly flat and, aside from one major drainage, often featureless, forested terrain. Even when I had my map oriented to the way I was facing, the mental picture was alluding me. And the frustration only confused me more.

After talking to myself, though—aloud for anyone to hear—and working it out ("okay, this is that road," I said, pointing toward my feet and then to the map, "and this is that road... so, okay, we're right here, and we want to go that way...") the mental picture finally appeared and cleared. So on my mark, we were ready to go.

And then Cindy gave the dogs their little "your assignment" shpeel. (See, I still have things all messed up.)

Anyhow, this whole K9 handler/backer thing is so much about communication, and though we sometimes get cranky—one or both of us—Cindy and I really have learned how to talk things out, to problem-solve and reason and get back on track when we get a bit off. We've also worked through temporary miscommunications and misunderstandings without getting all unglued. The more we work together, the better we become as a team. I like that!

Well, long story just a little shorter, we did lots of walking throughout the night and into the next morning. We also did lots of calling out for the subject. The dogs worked their tails off. And we saw, to our pleasure, that one of Cindy's dogs, who'd originally been trained as a tracking/trailing dog and later switched over to air-scenting, reverted to tracking/trailing when the opportunity—human scent on the ground—presented itself. Sure enough, we found footprints. Good dog!

But we weren't the ones who actually found the subject. It was a friend of his who found him, safe and asleep in the corner of a room in his own home, just after Cindy and I were released to return to Flagstaff later that morning. The man we'd been looking for for nearly 12 hours had apparently found his house sometime during the night, after the friend, who was supposed to stay in case the man showed up, had left to return to his own home.

Well, all was well enough that ended well. The man was okay and, for now at least, home safe.

A couple of hours later, after insisting to Jeremy that I can't sleep during the day, I was fast asleep on the living room floor.