Where to begin? The reality is that it already has begun. One down, and if the stats hold true, more than 30 to go.
That’s the national average, anyway, more than 30 deaths a year attributed to avalanches in the United States. And no state averages more than Colorado.
It’s a poignant and sobering reminder on this first week of winter, just like the news of the potentially avoidable avalanche death that occurred Nov. 6 on Berthoud Pass should have been. Sam Teetzen’s tragic demise might have served as a wake-up call among those of us who frequent the wild snow of the Colorado backcountry. Although, I confess, for me it did not.
I never met Teetzen, and though I’m sure he was so much more to many others, to me he is most of all an example. I’ve spent hours thinking about him today, about the way he died, what he left behind. But first I thought about M. John Fayhee.
Fayhee, who lives in Frisco, has achieved some local acclaim as a traveler within the Colorado backcountry, although these days he’s primarily known as the editor-at-large of Mountain Gazette magazine. I’m not certain what the “at large” portion of his title pertains to exactly, but I assume it grants him a variety of journalistic liberties, such as the ability to “review” The Denver Post’s Outdoor Extremes section, which he did in November’s MG118. Specifically, the analysis dealt with an edition of our section dedicated to the theme of wilderness safety and survival.
At the risk of an over-redundant review of his review, I found the point he made resonating in my mind not only today as I thought of Teetzen, but at least twice in the past week after skiing out backcountry gates to research today’s cover story. To my chagrin, you’ve probably already noticed the word “after.”
The disappointment of self stems directly from Fayhee’s commentary. For while he’s an apparent fan of most of our work, on this particular topic he felt like less stress might have been placed on carrying ample quantities of appropriate equipment and more on the actual practice of backcountry survival skills. Between a lengthy discussion of the finer points of magnetic declination and a reluctant endorsement of GPS units, Fayhee makes a valid point: You not only need to carry them, you also need to be able to use your map, compass and/or GPS properly, and that takes frequent practice.
The philosophy obviously holds true for avalanche transceivers as well, which might be your only hope for survival should an avalanche bury you. It was widely reported that Teetzen left his in the car, an apparent oversight in the chase to ride an untracked line. Not that it should have even mattered.
There are plenty of ways to enhance your luck in the backcountry, and a healthy dose of respect, even fear, for your environment and what you are ultimately attempting to achieve may be foremost among them. But first it has to be considered. It wasn’t until I found myself hiking a backcountry ridge armed with an almost idiot-proof Backcountry Tracker, probe poles and shovel that the layers of preparedness – mental and physical – began to reveal themselves to me. Only then did I realize how truly ill-equipped I was.
Not only was I out of practice with my beacon, I was mentally unprepared for the task at hand, lulled into a false sense of familiarity on a notoriously fickle medium. Although we skied without incident, a post-run evaluation forced me to admit my mental game was lacking. In the rush of adventure, I failed to consider the consequence of every action. I can’t help feeling like I got away with something.
A later junket with Aspen Expeditions founder Dick Jackson reiterated my self-assessment, but casual time spent observing conditions, evaluating snowpack, even digging a pit to the ground to search for weak bonding points where slabs of snow are most inclined to break free enabled my mind to enter the appropriate place for an unfamiliar environment. Something Jackson calls “the Zen of backcountry” took hold as we slowly skinned up the ridge and took time to consider all the elements of wilderness skiing and survival.
Preparing for the uncertainties of backcountry skiing is an inexact science, difficult to practice in the absence of a genuine tragedy.
But seeing that we’ve already had one this year should serve as a catalyst to sign up for that avalanche safety class (even if it’s a refresher), have a buddy bury his beacon for you to find, get accustomed to skiing with a loaded backpack.
Most important, take time to think about where you are and what you are doing, before you do it. It’s time to wake up.
Staff writer Scott Willoughby can be reached at 303-820-1993 or swilloughby@denverpost.com.
