What follows is a avalanche survival report that was forwarded to me by Mike Mixon. The author Steve Fox is a member of the Boeing Alpine Club commonly called BOEALPS. Steve and his three friends who he has called A,B,and C decided to go for a climb on Christmas Eve. This is Steve's report unedited by me it makes some interesting reading and presents some good points that even us Mountain Rescue types should listen to.

It is reprinted here with his permission. Editor

The Event

On Christmas Eve 1998, our group of four (me, "A", "B", and "C") and a 30 lb puppy met to climb Mt. Catherine on Snoqualmie Pass. After a tricky drive down from Everett on icy and snowy roads, we revised our plan to Mailbox Peak (exit 34, I-90, 4800'). T he weather was warming up a bit from several days of temperatures in the 20's, but was slightly below freezing. Several inches of snow were at the trailhead (el. 1000') and we started off in the usual good spirits.

The steep hike went fairly well, except for a strong wind at times. At 2500' it started raining or dropping sloppy glop from the trees, but by 3000' there was only a very light snowfall. Much of the trail was protected from the winds. Eventually we broke out of the trees and slogged up in sometimes deep powder, sometimes nearly bare crust, up to the base of the boulder field. Here the wind was howling. We tried climbing up it for a way, but decided it was too deep and windy for the dog, and headed to the left to go through the trees. Eventually the trees gave way to an open slope (about 30 degree angle), which had deep wind-blown powder on it. C decided to turn around here with the pup, and started descending to a big tree to wait. With me in the lead, A and B followed. Not more than a few steps up the slope, I saw a small flow of snow coming down the slope. Within a second, the entire width of the slope was avalanching towards us. It didn't look too deep, and my first thought was "oh, there's a small avalanche." None the less, I yelled "AVALANCHE!". Not worried in the slightest, I turned and said "RUN!". I had no idea which way to run -- we were 30-50' from the trees, and much farther from the sides of the slope. However, I had no concern as I thought the fine powder would just wash around our legs.

Suddenly I found myself head first sliding down hill, totally out of control. I could see nothing, but may have closed my eyes. I don't recall if I was on my back or chest. The sensation of speed was really disturbing, and I remembered the trees we had j ust left. All I could think was "I'm going to hit a tree head first and get really hurt." I slid down for what seemed like an eternity, but never hit anything. I remembered about halfway down that you should 'swim' to keep afloat. There was no way to do t hat as I was totally out of control. I knew I was going to get buried next. Sure enough, I came to a stop with my mouth full of snow. The panic set in -- I couldn't breathe properly. I was on my back, with my head down hill. My throat was partially full of snow. My legs could barely move, nor my arms. I choked out "HELP!", and my throat burned with a small amount of bile. It was all I could do to yell once or twice with all the snow in my mouth. "HELP ME!" ... I heard C frantically saying B was buried. "Hey, I'm buried too," I thought, as I could not move my feet, and barely move my hands. I was trapped by the pack straps and I was chok ing. I didn't know if my head was above the snow or not, and didn't know if another avalanche would do me in for good. At least I hadn't hit a tree. I tried to calm down to save oxygen. But I also started a mighty struggle to get free my legs and arms.

After hearing the initial "AVALANCHE" yell, C (who was near the bottom of the slope) grabbed the dog and tried to get behind a nearby tree. But the flow knocked C down and the two rolled at least three times in the flow. Somehow, C wasn't buried much and quickly squirmed out, perhaps with some help from the dog. C yelled for all of us, but didn't hear any response back. Frantically, C raced around and saw B's feet sticking out of the snow, but nothing else showing. C immediately started pawing at the snow in a desperate attempt to extricate B. She could hear him moaning. C had no idea where A was, but saw me face up in the snow and figured I was going to be up and helping at any moment. It looked futile to get B out of there by herself, and then she heard me yell "HELP!".

C had to make a tough choice: keep digging out someone in obvious trouble, or help me. Two can dig quicker than one, and I was yelling for help, so anxious to make meaningful progress, C stomped through the deep snow to help me. C frantically cleared my f ace, while in a near-panic saying B was buried. Somehow I heard A shout out she was fine for the moment, but stuck. I knew that I had a shovel on my backpack, but could barely talk yet. "Get me out of here -- my legs!", I somehow demanded and C pawed the snow off legs, but in doing so was piling snow b ack on my face. That really scared me, but I couldn't yell due to the snow choking me. (A week later, this seems comical.) I quickly figured it was uncomfortable, but not threatening. C was already drained from trying to free B, and some panic had set in . But in short order, one leg was freed up, and I used it to help scrape snow off the other leg. I knew that I had to get my shovel out very quickly, as I knew B only had 15 minutes before he was in major trouble.

My pack was holding me down, and I couldn't get free. C's hands were very cold, and had a really tough time finding my waist belt clip, then finally unclipping it. C unbuckled the chest strap, and loosened the shoulder straps as much as possible, but I was still caught. I lurched upwards mightily, worrying about the time elapsing, but it didn't work. My straps held me in really strongly. Somehow, C and I freed up my left elbow and I finally wriggled out. I could only guess it took 3-5 minutes from the time the avalanche stopped until now. Whew, I'm OUT!

Now to get to action -- I can help at last! I quickly got my pack and fumbled for what seemed like a long time to disconnect my shovel, get it free, and connect it back together. I could hear B groaning. I dug like crazy with the shovel. I remember at on e point C stopped helping, and I yelled "DON'T STOP!", not realizing her backpack was restricting the digging. She quickly removed her pack and resumed pawing away snow. In a few minutes we freed an area around his face and one hand. His body was against a 4 inch tree, and seemed bent backwards. Was he badly injured? I kept digging while C cleared the snow better around his face, so he could breathe. The moaning had stopped, and he wasn't moving.

During the avalanche, A started running too. Immediately she was knocked down and found herself zooming downhill headfirst, on her chest. All she could see was snow all around here. She worried about hitting a tree also. Sure enough, she hit several branches and sticks in the snow, and perhaps some small trees too. But somehow she didn't get hurt really badly. She ended up with her head well out of the snow, both legs spread wide at a funny angle and twisted, and one arm deep into the snow. Those three limbs were totally stuck as the snow hardened like concrete around here. Her one free hand had the mitten and ski pole ripped off during the avalanche. She tried to scoop the snow away from a leg as we worked on B, but made little progress. Her hand was so cold she put it in her jacket to warm up. Nonetheless, she was strangely calm and relaxed about the whole thing. The puppy wandered up there and A was hopelessly licked with little means to defend herself (had to put in a little comic relief!)

Meanwhile, poor B had also been knocked down. He never lost his poles. He slid down in the terrible jumble of snow and ended up immobile except for his two feet, which he claims to have wiggled continuously. The snow was like concrete for him, too, and he was sealed in a frozen tomb. He figured that his end had come, said his prayers and prepared to die. He tried hard to arch his back, but could not budge at all, and passed out due to lack of oxygen.

I kept urgently digging out B's pack (he was face down) and around his body and legs, while asking "can you move your hand?" There was no response. He didn't move. I don't recall if it seemed like he was breathing or not. C kept freeing snow from around h is face. Suddenly, his hand moved, and we knew he was alive. We were both freeing up the area around his head, and I had set down the shovel. Oh no! Where's the shovel! B's still under too much... I thought our pawing had buried the shovel. I pawed away frantically trying to find it, but to no avail. Did it slip... no... how could it slide, as I had set it down carefully! It MUST be under this snow. Somehow, I looked around in my first real panic of the event. There it was, downhill 30 feet! I raced down to get it, raced back up and continued the frantic digging. He was a good 3' under and I had cleared away quite a wall upslope. Would it colla pse on him? Hurry! It is impossible to describe the urgency, the panic, the helpless feeling... Finally we freed him. Whew! He's moving at least... and he revived very quickly. We got his pack off and helped him up. I was really worried he had injured his back. C had him sit quietly in a safe place while I raced up to extract A with the shovel. She had three limbs buried, only one hand free. Her leg was twisted badly and she had a bruise, but extracting her wasn't too hard with the shovel. Fortunately, she never felt particularly in danger during the entire event. We all grouped behind a large tree to catch our wits. I asked if anyone was cold. No, all were fine. A had a twisted knee and walked with some difficulty, but B seemed fine. All I could think was "we gotta get outta here," and after checking that all were OK and doing a bit of consoling to some pretty shaken-up folks, we went back to retrieve some stuff from the snow pile. B really wanted his poles, and we found both. I bent one of them taking it out. (It finally broke partway down the trail.) My ice ax and half-size ski pole were missing, as well as both of A's poles and her missing mitten/wind cover.

We started down the hill, staying in the trees. At one point, we got to a small open slope but decided not to go that way. There were some small cracks in the snow, and even though it was probably safe, we took the conservative route. I finally decided to put a stretch bandage around A's knee and we gave her two poles and the snowshoes. It was a long trip down, with A having to slide down the slushy, slippery, rooted trail in many sections. We had to put on headlamps partway down. I kept urging the team to keep moving as I worried the event would suddenly "set in" and somebody would freak out. We just wanted to be home... and hours later, after dark, everybody was home, safe and sound.

Analysis

The Avalanche Report

Note: The Northwest Weather and Avalanche Center is an excellent resource. I had read the previous day's avalanche report before we left, which sounded somewhat OK below 5000'. However, when I got home, the current day's report wasn't as good (I've only included relevant paragraphs):

0900 AM PST Thursday, December 24, 1998

ZONE AVALANCHE FORECASTS..... WASHINGTON CASCADES. . . .OLYMPICS. . . .

Increasing avalanche danger Thursday becoming high above 5000 feet and considerable below by afternoon. Avalanche danger remaining high above 5000 feet and considerable below through early Christmas Day. gradually decreasing. Further increasing danger later Christmas remaining high above 4 to 5000 feet and considerable below through Friday night.

SNOWPACK ANALYSIS.........

Increasing snow early Thursday and increasing ridgetop winds have deposited some 4 to 6 inches of new snow over most areas by Thursday morning. This new snow has fallen on either weak recrystallized snow, small surface hoar, intact stellar crystals or a smooth and hard crust. In an case, the new snow is now loading the underlying weak snow or is weakly bonded to the crust, causing widespread but relatively small natural avalanches, mainly above about 5000 feet where stronger winds are present. While these slab avalanches may be relatively shallow and break up quickly, backcountry travelers should avoid steep open slopes, especially above terrain traps such as cliffs, rocks or trees. In most areas the smooth hard near surface crust, now buried some 4 to 10 inches below the surface, should provide a slick sliding surface for avalanches to release on. On steeper slopes, it may be extremely difficult to arrest a fall or stop if caught in a small slide. It should be noted that the recent cold temperatures and the very strong temperature gradient in the upper snowpack has continued to cause recrystallization or faceting of the snow layers near or just above the crust. This process has also been gradually weakening the crust itself, mainly at higher elevations where the crust was thinner. Recent snowpit data over the past two days has confirmed this, indicating that weak lower density snow exists to near a foot below the crust. This structure should cause a significantly increasing danger when loaded with wind deposited snow or higher density snowfall expected over the next few days. Avalanches which begin sliding on the crust may break below the crust and entrain significant weak snow below, resulting in more substantially dangerous avalanches. Backcountry travelers should use extreme caution, especially in areas receiving more significant new snow and wind transported snow. The greatest danger is expected to develop on mainly northeast through east facing slopes along the west slopes.

Lessons Learned

Avalanches are not theoretical things that you read about in climbing books. A peak as "mundane" as Mailbox Peak can be a killer. According to Freedom of the Hills, when in an avalanche, you should locate and extract the victim quickly. A person located within 15 minutes has a 90% chance of survival. C made the right choice in extracting me first, even though B was clearly in much more trouble. Two can dig faster. She needed the moral support of a second person too, as would anybody, in such a desperate situation We should have checked B for breathing and pulse, and extracted any snow from inside his mouth as soon as practical. I'm sure we would have if he had not started moving. We also should have checked everybody over carefully for any injuries he may not have noticed. And perhaps forced more clothes on him. We were concerned that we were in a bad place, and he did recover very quickly, both which made us think we didn't need to worry too much.

Survival tips in an avalanche include grabbing a rock or tree, digging in ax or ski pole, swimming, making a breathing space, etc. From my experience, these are nice in theory, but you have no time to think. You just survive. I did think to swim, a fter sliding through half the avalanche path. By that time I was moving so fast, that I just mentally prepared for hitting a tree headfirst. In a climbing emergency, there are 7 steps to take when an injury occurs:

Take charge of the situation

I took the initiative to take charge, even while partially buried. I knew that I had the shovel, and that A was ok but B buried. I hope A, B, and C 0 don't mind but I was a bit aggressive about commands and action. I think this worked well as otherwise it w as just panic and frantic action. For some reason, I never got an adrenaline rush that impaired my thinking.

Approach the patient safely

All we could do is dig B out as fast as possible without gouging him with the shovel. We had to extract him, and we just hoped no more avalanches would occur. We were at least 30' into the trees, and felt somewhat safe there. We did similarly for A.

Perform emergency rescue and urgent first aid

We dug B out quickly and scooped the snow from his face. We also did this for A later. The only first aid administered was the elastic bandage on A's knee.

Protect the patient

We moved them to a safer area behind a tree, and had them stay quietly until the situation seemed stable.

Check for other injuries

I was very concerned for B's back, which turned out to be ok. I was less concerned about A's knee but was worried about getting down quickly. In retrospect, we should have done a head-to-toe check of all four of us.

Plan what to do

I figured we needed to get off the mountain as quickly as possible before shock set in, or an injury proved to be worse, or the event freaked out a team member. I was on autopilot and figured I'd be quite bothered about it later. For now, I just wanted to get us all home! We needed a safe route, which we stuck too.

Carry out the plan

I was a bit hard-nosed about keeping moving down the slippery trail. A's knee was problematic, but we kept moving. Still, we didn't get out until 6pm. Fortunately, we all had headlamps. That trail is very steep, and difficult and slippery on descent. But we managed to get out ok.

We did numerous things wrong:

We did not recognize the wind-blown slabs. We did not recognize the classic slope angle that is highly susceptible to avalanche. We did not recognize the warming weather, even though it was raining below. We did not spread out, one at a time, on the open slope. Every party member should have snow shovels and avalanche probes. We should have had avalanche transceivers and the proper training and proficiency to use them.

I had a case of "summit fever". We all should have turned around when the whole party was not able to continue. Mailbox Peak just isn't worth it! I'm sure there are many others, but hopefully you get the idea. We were incredibly lucky one person was buried so slightly that she could help extract another quickly.

We weren't all exactly together when the slab broke free.

Nobody hit a tree really hard.

B's leg was out of the snow, and was easy to find.

The person with the one shovel wasn't buried too deeply.

We had a shovel! (We should have had more though!!)

I'm so glad that dog was there, otherwise all four of us may have been immobilized.

In summary, before the avalanche we ignored some basic warning signs. After the avalanche we performed closely to the way we were trained. While the event was a really close call, we all came out of it ok, except for some pretty nasty bruises that A received. We were damned lucky. I recommend that anyone considering going into this type of terrain take an avalanche course, pay attention to weather and avalanche reports and current conditions, and take proper equipment.

Convened at 7:40 pm

BOARD MEMBERS PRESENT:

Fran McFarland, Chris Berryman, Alan Givotovsky, Bill Weber, Gus Bush, Larry Crum, Jim Andrues, Phil Pletcher, Jeff Sharp, Stan Kartes and Ken Capron.

OTHER MEMBERS PRESENT:

Connie Crum, Cheryl Wells, Terry Leeby, Kate Roberts, Dave Treber, Jim Howe, Cliff Lightfoot and Lee Tegner.

December's minutes were accepted as read.

TREASURER'S REPORT: Larry Crum

• The report was accepted as read.
• The new registration is in the truck.

OPERATIONS REPORT: Gus Bush

• December 13^th - 2 "snowshoers" were lost in the area around Mt. Pilchuk. See the December Rucksack for details. A letter of thanks and a donation were sent by Gary and Kathy Strand - the parents of one of the lost people.

TRAINING REPORT: Jim Andrues

• John Miner taught the Wednesday "Avalanche Awareness" class. 33 people attended. 20 people attended the training held at Paradise.
• Next training on Wednesday January 13^th will be Radios and Rigging. Saturday and Sunday will be SAR Management training held at the Fire training center in Gig Harbor.
• The 1999 training schedule is in the December Rucksack.

EQUIPMENT REPORT: Ken Capron

• There are 3 new snowsaws in the truck.

COMMUNICATIONS REPORT: Stan Kartes

• Stan has the new Winbeep disk for alpha paging. See him if you would like one.
• The radios have been completely programmed. The truck also has an airhorn, siren and PA function.

SAFETY AND EDUCATION REPORT: Phil Pletcher

• TMR is involved in teaching the following Mountaineers classes:
  • 4/14 Safety in the Mountains - Chris Berryman
  • 3/11 Self Help for the Intermediate class - Chris Berryman
  • 3/20 - 3/21 Accident Response - Chris Berryman and TMR
  • 5/22 - Self Help (Field) - Chris Berryman and TMR
• The Seattle RV Show is Feb. 18 - 21. The Puyallup Home Show is March 24 - 28. TMR will be having a booth at these events. Phil Pletcher will have details at the January general meeting.

MEMBERSHIP REPORT: Chris Berryman

• The Callout Committee will be scheduling a meeting soon.
• Chris has updated the callout roster.

FINANCE REPORT: Bill Weber

• No report.
• Bill is still waiting for the cans to arrive.

AIR OPERATIONS REPORT: Jeff Sharp

• The search is still on for a new aircraft.

SAR COUNCIL MEEETING REPORT: Jeff Sharp

• No Report.

MAST MEETING REPORT: Bill Weber

• With the activity in the Gulf, helicopters are being used elsewhere.

OLD BUSINESS:

• Connie Crum was officially voted in as Secretary.
• If you would like a letter to you employer thanking them for their support of your efforts, see Fran McFarland.
• Ken as made copies of the incident reports for Accidents in American Mountaineering. They will be kept in the briefcase in the rescue truck.
• We now have 3 "one-use" cameras in the truck.
• Pepsi (thanks to Ken) has donated cooler for the truck. THANKS PEPSI AND KEN.
• Dave Treber is looking into a box attached to the truck for the generator.

NEW BUSINESS:

• Gus will be making suggestions for people added to the OL list.
• >Chris is organizing a "cache remodel" committee.
• Jim Andrues and Dave Treber are looking into Rescue Truck driver training.
• DUES ARE DUE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

NATIONAL CONFERENCE:

• Alan asked for input on a couple of issues before he goes to the January Conference. Mike Mixon has stepped down as Accreditation Chair for MRA. If you are interested in this position, talk to Mike.
• Alan is working on goal-planning for the next 2 years. If you have input, see Alan.

• Dave Treber brought up the fact that its expensive to get a Hepatitis B shot. Dave and Jeff Sharp will be looking into other ways to get the immunization at a lower cost.

GOOD OF THE ORDER:

• None

Adjourned at 21:45

Respectfully submitted,
Fran McFarland,
Secretary

The following members attended the Kit party on Dec 2, 1998:

• Shorty Williams
  
• Bill Weber
  
• Ken Capron
  
• Jim Andrues
  
• Gus Bush
  
• Jeff Sharp
  
• Fran McFarland
  
• Stan Engle
  

They made 196 kits.

Remember the kit party is 7:30 P.M. the first Wednesday of the month at 2905 Parkway Dr. W. If you need directions call Shorty Williams at 564-0581. We need your help.

©Copyright 1999 Tacoma Mountain Rescue