Avalanche in East Vail Backcountry, Dec 18 2007
1 Skier caught
THE ACCOUNT
I am not a stupid man. Nor am I an inexperienced backcountry traveler. Yet on December 18th, 2007, I nearly lost my life to an avalanche while telemark skiing in a backcountry area known as East Vail, Colorado. There are several factors that led up to this accident that I’d like to write down, in the hope that others can learn from my mistakes, and so that I can learn myself, and express my thoughts more clearly.
I have spent the past twelve years skiing in Colorado’s backcountry. By definition, the continental snowpack that exists here is full of weaknesses. Because we deal with such cold temperatures, moisture is often sucked out of the snowpack, leaving behind weakened crystals that cause avalanches. I know this because I have spent the past four winters and one summer working as a ski patroller dealing with avalanche mitigation at Keystone, Colorado and Queenstown, New Zealand. Since many Colorado alpine areas are above tree line with heavy wind, my work and recreational skiing has often dealt with hard slab formation. Hard slabs become a fact of life. I think that one contributing factor to the incident in East Vail was a feeling of familiarity and therefore comfort with hard slabs. When I went out onto the slab, I was trying to trigger instabilities and make the slope safer for my friends and I to ski. My miscalculation, based on previous experiences with the same slope, was that my ski cut would release a small, shallow hard slab up high and it would flush out below me, leaving me standing on top and ready to ski. That was wrong. A big hard slab with a four-foot crown ended up releasing above me with a lot of energy, propagating in both directions. As I looked to my right and then left, my second mistake was revealed.
I left myself no escape route. The terrain below me was a narrow choke, which caused the sliding snow to accelerate just as a river does when it approaches a narrow point in a canyon. I always thought that if I were involved in a slide, I would just point my skis straight downhill and get myself out of trouble. After this ride, I no longer believe that the mind is capable of processing information fast enough to accomplish what the body needs it to during a high-energy slide with a fast bed surface. I was at the choke almost instantly after the initial fracture, and when that happened the snow got real deep and real pushy real fast and knocked me off my feet. After that happened, I was in front of and under the snow, going for a ride.
It sounds strange, but at that point, I felt a real sense of calm. I felt acceleration and speed, but all I thought to myself was “well, this is what it’s like.” I knew that I had four of my best friends above me, and that they would find me quickly if I wasn’t buried too deeply. I was getting pummeled by hard slab chunks, getting snow packed in my mouth, and then I was swept over the first cliff. It would seem like being swept over a cliff is a bad thing, but I think it saved my life. It gave me a couple seconds to clear my airway, and sort of get it together before the pummeling began again. I hit my head on a couple rocks while going over the first cliff, but didn’t lose consciousness. I think that getting taken off the cliff also “fluffed” me back up to the surface, for lack of a better word. After the second cliff, I had the feeling of my right ski ripping off my boot. Soon thereafter, I felt the slide slowing down and starting “swimming” for the surface. I ended up on the surface, about 800-900 vertical feet below the original fracture, pretty shaken up but with no major trauma to my body. The slide continued below me, but at that point much of the original slab had been deposited on the two benches above the cliffs and it was more of a loose snow slide. I lost one ski, my hat and goggles, both poles, and my backpack had been ripped open and my shovel handle and probe were ripped out of it.
In the past week, I’ve been thinking a lot about the decision-making process that led to the accident. Years ago, I read an article by Ian McCammon about group dynamics and the role they play in avalanche accidents. It is a great read and can be easily found online at http://www.snowpit.com/articles/traps%20reprint.pdf. Our group was five men and two women. The two women split off before our ski run and skied some mellower terrain further skier’s left in Benchmark Bowl. That left us five guys. Skier A had seen a line through the trees lower in the bowl on the previous run, and we were trying to figure out the best way to get there. Skier A skied down to the first bench, but gave us the signal from there that the line he skied involved mandatory air with cliffs over 20 feet. We proceeded to move further to skier’s right, past some old growth spruce that were “safe”, but tracked up, toward the choke that Skier A and I had skied on the previous run. The plan was to ski down to the first bench, cut through the woods over to the left, and then meet back up with Skier A.
There were a couple reasons why I had a false sense of security. On the previous run, Skier A and I had cut in below and to the right of the pillow that would rip out on me, avoiding the “sweet spot” that I hit while cutting. On this run, we planned to ski a choke one over to the left from the one that Skier A and I skied. I had skied this very choke on several occasions in years past, once with my friend Skier M cutting in the same manner that I did when I went for a ride. I think that this is a red flag in terms of avalanche safety, basing a decision on experience from years past rather than making a critical evaluation of the terrain in front of you. It was my most critical mistake, and it’s surprising that I made it considering that I usually approach things in a much more analytical manner. I think that’s where group dynamics come in. I was with such a strong group that I probably had a tendency to let my guard down a little bit, figuring that they were thinking critically about the terrain and snow conditions and so I didn’t have to think quite so much. This illustrates how communication within a group is critical for sound decision making. In reality, Skier B thought that the slab looked very ominous, but we didn’t talk about it before I dropped in. Had we communicated, I may have done some things differently and not almost smoked myself.
In addition to thinking about the slide itself, I've spent the past week reflecting on life and death (of course), because realistically I should be dead right now. Many people have been in much smaller slides and not lived. I think the thing that saved me was being taken off the cliffs, but it still seems unbelievable. Another lucky thing is that while under and being transported I didn't get a hard knock and lose consciousness, even though my head was battered against rocks, stumps, etc. My friends thought I was gone for sure. The whole event still seems surreal. Skier C was the first one to get down to me and he was as freaked out as I was but still managed to give me a big hug. Lots of people seem happy I'm alive and that’s nice. Medically, I just have a huge bruise on my leg that could have just as well been a broken femur, but am able to walk, ski, and breathe in and out.
When I close my eyes, I can still see that sort of weird color of blue that is the color of the snowpack when you are under it looking up. At the end of the slide before Skier C got there, I stood there realizing I was still alive and not badly broken. I just looked around, at the Gore range in the distance, the perfect Colorado blue sky, and just had a moment of perfect awareness or presence in the world. Maybe another way to put it is “clarity”. I don't really have the vocabulary to describe the feeling, maybe the French do.
I'm still not sure what it all means, big picture-wise. If anything I am even more convinced of what Camus called "the benign indifference of the universe". I am overwhelmed by the love shown toward me in the past week by my friends. I realize that I have not spent enough time "in love". If karma exists, then I've just taken a huge withdrawal from whatever karmic account I had accrued, so I should be very nice to people for a while. That should be easy to do since I am genuinely happy just to be alive, which is a great feeling. Since I should be dead, everything from here on out is just a bonus. Life was always all a bonus anyway I guess.
Since I wrote this, two men have died in East Vail, just to the skier’s right of the area that I discuss here. From all reports, their groups sounded experienced and prepared, just as mine was. I feel very sad for these men and their friends and families, realizing that it could have just as well been my friends and family going through such a difficult time. If you are their friends and reading this, my heart goes out to you. Though I wrote this as a personal piece for myself and friends, I’ve decided to edit it a bit and submit it to the CAIC, in case it helps other people think about their decision making process more critically. East Vail is dangerous and easily accessible, but also provides great backcountry skiing. We could all ski on green runs at the ski area and live long and boring lives, but they would be lives without adventure or challenge. I can’t pretend to know how the other two men felt about backcountry skiing and riding, but for me, it’s how I breathe.
CAIC COMMENTS
Party members reported the close call to the CAIC the following day. They included sufficient details, and the Vail Summit Zone forecast for the 19th had this to say:
“On Tuesday a skier triggered a good sized slab on a NE aspect just below treeline near Vail. The gentleman was carried by the slab, which failed about 20 feet above him, for about 800 feet. Escape routes were not present so he had no option but the ride which had him buried for most of the ride, but he popped out just as the slide was coming to a stop. This ride took him over at least one 15 foot cliff, but he ended up with only some impact bruises to his thigh, lost a ski, one pole, hat and goggles. Crown was 4 feet deep at the deepest, and about 60 feet wide. This was a wind slab created from recent moderate to sometimes strong westerly winds.”
DANGER RATING
The danger on 12/18 was “MODERATE with pockets of CONSIDERABLE on north through east through south aspects above treeline. MODERATE on all aspects at treeline.”
Logan 20080116
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