Avalanche Death in the Rubies

 

It could have been worse, but it was bad enough.

A young man is dead, another is badly injured, dozens of rescuers were at risk trying to effect a rescue in remote avalanche terrain, on a day made treacherous by a drought-year snowpack.  The Rubies are not exempt from the dangers of backcountry travel.

It is hard to know what to say.

Three young people were snowmobiling where they had no business being, in the Ruby Mountains Wilderness near Castle Lake. Snowmobilers regularly ignore wilderness regulations around here.  The slide broke above them, according to witnesses, burying one young man, breaking another's femur.  And, according to witnesses... they weren't wearing avalanche beacons.  They had no realistic means of locating their friend quickly enough to save his life. 

Nearby sledders did their best, as did the incredible pros at Ruby Mountain Heliski.  It wasn't to be.

The information is out there.  This has been a deadly year in the winter backcountry all over the western United States, as the dry snow year followed by a significant storm system has layered dense, wind-affected snow over a big pile of facets.  When it goes, it goes all the way to the ground.  Combine those conditions with thousands of backcountry enthusiasts desperate to get out and play in the mountains and, well.... people die.  

As of two days ago, the Washington Post reported that 27 people had died in avalanches so far this year.  That's what we average in an entire season.  Now we are at 28.

The thing that strikes me more than anything is the cavalier attitude about backcountry snowplay that seems rampant among certain groups.  There is a saying that is VERY true... "There are old climbers, and there are bold climbers, but there are no old, bold climbers."  Insert "skiers" or "snowmobilers", same idea.

This has been coming, I'm sad to say.  Modern snowmobiles are incredibly powerful, and high-marking is the game of choice.  The rider guns it straight up a steep slope, a slope that's right at the prime angle for avalanches, trying to get his tracks higher than the last guy.  And again.  And again.  To be honest, I'm very surprised that we haven't had an avalanche fatality sooner.  The sledders have been living on borrowed time.

This young man ran out of time, and far too soon.  A friend who knows him says he was a wonderful young man, with a bright future ahead of him.  

Sled in Terminal Cancer

Corn season is here, and that means crunchy early AM starts, bluebird skies and a very happy dog. His little short legs have him awfully tired when we're enjoying the powder we've seen this year! Corn snow is much more to his liking.

The snowmobiles have been having a field day up there and I bagged on a trip up Full House because of it... the entire east aspect was tracked up and I couldn't see a decent line from the peak. This week's snow combined with sunshine should heal it all up... hopefully the sledders will get excited about yard work sooner rather than later. In the meantime, I think I'm going to need to shift my ski-day goals to less sled-accessible terrain.

Not that there's much of that to be found these days. On Wednesday, a film crew was up recording a snowmobiler who ripped up Terminal Cancer. We always thought that line would be safe from the snowmobiles... not any more. They hired a helicopter to get him off the top, so hopefully that'll discourage the locals from trying it.

I've pretty much written TC off to the out-of-towners, who have it so tracked up these days bumps are likely forming. Still, though, I always thought that beautiful, beautiful line would be safe from the profane sound of jet-fuel-powered sleds. Not any more.