First person account of Berthoud Pass avvy rescue Nov 2005
First person account of Berthoud Pass avvy rescue Nov 2005 - http://www.telemarktalk.com/phpBB/viewtopic.php?t=13425
I am sending this email to all of you in the hopes that it may help prevent a repeat of the tragedy that happened on Berthoud this weekend.
I also wrote this down because I honestly still don't know what do with my feelings about it.
The following is a thorough account of this tragedy. It is long, detailed and graphic (the actual experience was even worse then I can share). I wanted to relate as closely as possible what it was like to be rushed headlong into to this situation. If you are uncomfortable with a graphic account, you may wish to skip sections.
Please read on and learn...
Elias and I arrived late in the parking lot around 11am. As we were dressing in our gear, a guy ran buy yelling that his buddy was buried in a slide. My first thought was, this isn't happening. But it was. Though the parking lot was quite full of people, very few people seemed to be taking notice. Elias and I ran up to the guy and tried to get details.
His mind was scattered but we learned they had triggered a slide on Mines, his buddy was buried, and he had not beacon on. That was all we knew. We found someone with a cell phone with service and instructed them to call 911 and alert mountain rescue. They called it in.
Elias and I had run by my condo earlier to pick up my ski equipment. On the drive back up the pass we noticed that Mines had slid. I pointed this out to Elias and he suggested that maybe a skier had triggered it.
I said this was unlikely as no one would be silly enough to drop in on that today...I was very wrong.
Upon gathering info from Erin (the buried skiers buddy), we geared up quickly and began ascending the east side of the pass. It was very hard. I imagined I would draw on some super-human strength and double time it up...not happening. Having lifted on Friday, climbed some on Saturday, and this being my first time at altitude in some time, I couldn't go fast. Someone's life was on the online and I was crawling!
It took about 30 minutes to get the top of the slide. Unfortunately when we arrived, there wasn't one, but rather 2 slides. This created a real problem because time was ticking and we didn't know where to go. Elias stepped into his snowboard and began descending the lower slide area.
Two guys shouted from below saying this was the wrong slide. He had to backtrack up the hill. I was further up the ridge and couldn't hear him. Several more precious minutes ticked by. Finally he managed to communicate that the upper slide was the right one. Unfortunately I had already stepped into my skis and was between the slides I had to shed gear and hike in waist deep snow to get to the upper slide. More minutes ticked by. Finally I reached the release point and was ready to go.
My first thoughts were very depressing. The slide was absolutely huge.
Almost 150 meters along the fracture, over a meter deep, all the way to the ground and run completely down to the lower chute and around the corner. I immediately knew the chances were slim to impossible.
Regardless, I dropped into the debris and began crossing the slope back and forth searching for signs. Nothing...At this point Elias has made his way up to the slide and was working down the debris to me.
We reached the deposition zone. It ran for 100 meters. This was disheartening as we would have to probe 100 meters by 10 meters of snow. More time ticked away. Neither Elias nor I had real probes. In addition our beacons were useless because the victim didn't have one. It was difficult to get the baskets off of our poles...much more difficult than expected. More time ticked away. We began probing as deep as our poles allowed...maybe 3.5 feet. We worked our way down the deposition zone and quickly the snow became too deep to hit bottom. Still no one else had arrived. Where was everyone? Where was mountain rescue? A person was buried and maybe fighting for their life and no one else was on the scene. We kept working down the deposition zone and 2 more skiers arrived to help out. They didn't have probe either!
I decided to do a faster sweep down the line. Elias lead our probe group down as I headed down. I reached the bend in the chute and found a small group of skiers had just arrived from below and was working a probe line up the zone. The snow was at least 10-12 feet deep in at the bottom.
Only one or 2 people had long enough probes to reach bottom of the snow. We communicated and agreed that our team would work our way down and they would work their way up. It was a slow and frustrating process. Poles and probes where bending and pulling apart. I never imagined how important good gear is in a rescue effort. The whole process seemed so hopeless...like searching for a needle in a haystack.
I wondered, what does it feel like when you hit a person with a probe?
How do you know it's a person? Through trial and error I figured out that it was not what they felt like, but what they didn't feel like.
When you probe down, you feel the hit on the rocks/frozen ground below.
When you hit a person, it doesn't feel like hitting rock. Depressing thought.
From below we heard shouts of excitement. They had hit him with a probe. Time for all hands on deck with shovels. We dropped everything and ran down the slow. They had begun digging. We all grabbed shovels.
There were about 8 of us. We dug furiously...it was instantly exhausting...I had no idea how tiring it would be. We discovered the back of his head...now it was real. We dug a pocket around his face immediately and one person supported his head. He was face down in the snow, head down hill. At this point I imagined we could pull him out...no way...he was glued in the snow. We dug more. Snow was flying everywhere. People were shouting, digging, stepping on him, and hitting each other accidentally with shovels strokes. I was so glad to have a real shovel with a real metal blade. The plastic blades were useless. We finally managed to uncover his snowboard and struggled like hell to release his bindings...it was so difficult. With board released we tried to pull him out. Still no go. It was as if he was in a solid cast. We had to dig out around him and between his arms and legs to create space.
We all pulled and finally he came free.
We were certain he had back and perhaps neck injuries but this was secondary...air was first priority. We rolled him on his back onto his snow board. His face was blue, his mouth was open and his eyes were bloodshot with a sad blank stare. We cleared snow from his air passage immediately. He looked very dead. Erin his buddy had now arrived. He told us his buddy's name was Sammy. We all started calling to Sammy to hang in there.
We set up CPR team immediately. Unfortunately no one had a CPR mask.
Each person took turns supporting the head, doing chest compressions and blowing air into Sammy. It was an exhausting effort, even with a team on it. Supporting the head to keep his passage open was very tiring. Doing chest compressions was like doing push-ups at 11,000 feet. Performing mouth-to-mouth was emotionally and physically difficult. Sammy's life or death was in our hands. CPR was Sammy's only chance. We were the only ones to do it. On the other hand, I knew nothing about him. Did he have HIV or Hepatitis? How can I put my lips on an apparently dead person's mouth...and try to breathe life into them? What about saliva, blood or throw up? I felt terrible for even considering this...but you do...you have to.
When my turn came to give mouth-to-mouth, these thoughts vanished and my sole purpose focused on saving Sammy. 1,2,3..14, 15 compressions...now breath...tilt the head, cup the mouth and blow in...do it a second time...1,2,3...14,15...and repeat. We continue for what seemed like forever.
[I apologize that this section is so graphic but no one really tells this part of the story...you need to be ready for it]. As the CPR progressed, air began to get into his stomach. In addition, ribs were cracking. But we had to keep going. When we administered mouth-to-mouth now, a terrible smell would come from the stomach...it was hard not to throw up from it. We wouldn't stop until mountain rescue arrived to take over. Where were they? Over 30 minutes of search and 30 minutes of CPR and they still weren't there. Elias was on game the entire time. His knees were freezing in the snow and I tried to help out. We took turns support the head to give other guy a break. Now Sammy was now bleeding from his nose. Elias took duct tape and taped his nose shut. The tape covered his eyes as well. We shouted to a recently arrived group observing from above, asking for a CPR mask. One of guys had one. We grabbed this and put it on Sammy. We continued with CPR for what I believe to be another 30 minutes.
