By Rraine Jones, Grand County Search and Rescue
Tonight, we got a search and rescue page at about 10:00 pm. Richard and I were already in our pajamas watching a movie. We were told that two others had responded, and it should be a quick and easy rescue. We didn’t need to come to the trailhead, but we should be on standby just in case. We turned on the radio to listen to the rescue unfold.
It was a lost woman who was not dressed to be outside at night and her phone was about to die. Team 1 went in on snowmobiles. They got as far as they could with the snowmobiles, then ditched them to finish on foot. One rule of thumb is to bring snowshoes whenever you go out on snowmobiles. For some reason, team 1 did not. The snow was so deep, they were postholing up to their thighs and struggling to get to the woman, who also did not have snowshoes.
Then we heard team 1 call command and tell them to make sure team 2 brought extra snowshoes. Did they think team 2 was at the trailhead getting ready to go in? Oh, crap, we are team 2. I’m warm and cozy and it’s now midnight. A few seconds later we got the call asking us to respond. We got dressed and headed out.
We arrived at the trailhead, and it was -9 degrees Fahrenheit. I just bought new mittens that looked like they could withstand the temperatures of outer space, but I couldn’t do anything useful wearing them. They were as big as oven mitts. But tonight, I was just going to be a passenger on a snowmobile, so this was a great time to try them out. I bundled up as much as I could. We headed up the trail that team 1 made. The snow was deep and the steep slope wasn’t one you should be taking a trail sled up unless you were a really good snowmobiler. I wasn’t that good a snowmobiler, so I let Richard drive. We tried to follow their tracks for fear of tipping over in the deep snow if we didn’t. We dumped the snowmobile anyway. It pitched to the side in slow motion and so…very…slowly kept pitching. It felt like you should easily have been able to stop it, but there was nothing to be done to stop the momentum. I hadn’t been on the team very long and hadn’t spent much time on snowmobiles. They are heavy vehicles, so I was terrified of tipping over. Poof, I dropped into a deep blanket of snow. Ok, that didn’t hurt. Now I was a little less afraid of the snowmobile. However, the snow was up to my waist and we had to flip the snowmobile back up. That seemed physically impossible. I stood on the snowmobile and tried to use my weight to tip it back up. It was comical how little it moved.
We pushed, we dug, we pulled and we got it back up. By that time, there was not one part of me that was cold. We started back up the hill, but we were both now more wary about flipping it than before. Sure enough, we flipped it again. Fuck! I was no longer afraid of getting hurt, but it was so much work to get it back upright, and to catch my breath after. Now I just wanted to turn around and go home. We headed up again. I started chanting “don’t fall don’t fall” under my breath, over and over. Maybe that would help, like putting a spell on the snowmobile. Richard heard this, but didn’t realize I was attempting magic, so he thought the snowmobile was making a funny sound and had something wrong with it. I had to explain that it was me chanting a mantra to the snowmobile. Strangely enough, “your girlfriend is crazy” was not grounds for breaking up with me.
The chant didn’t work for long. I was tossed very slowly into the deep snow again. I just lay there and laughed. I had no skill. I was not qualified for this and apparently my boyfriend was not qualified for it either. Just standing up and taking the two steps back to the machine was a monumental effort. Why were we team 2?
As we rested to catch our breath, I looked back down the slope toward where we came from. The machine shut off when it tossed us to the side. It was silent and dark in the forest. The snow even muffled my heavy breathing. There was no light except for the stars. There was no moon. I could not see the ground nor the path we came up. I could see the stars and the outline of the tops of the pine trees as the stars peaked out from behind them. So many stars. It looked like a professional nighttime photograph. It might have been a minute, but it was forever that I stood there, just me, the milky way and the outline of treetops. Everything else was swallowed up by the black. I could no longer breathe, not from the physical exertion, but from the perfection of nature’s beauty. I wanted to stand there the rest of the night.
A lifetime later, we got back on the snowmobile and finished the ride up to team 1’s snowmobiles. We gladly parked ours. We put on snowshoes and followed their path until we found them. Even in snowshoes, the walking was slow, but we all made it back to the machines. I cried a little when I took my snowshoes off to get back on the snowmobile. We still had to ride back down. The snow had started to turn icy, which made the way back down slightly less soft and slightly more stable. Still, I chanted “don’t fall don’t fall” the entire way. It worked this time.
