August 2008

The call came in at 9 p.m. Tuesday night: “Calaveras Search and Rescue calling. There is a call out for a lost hiker. Tuolumne County is requesting mutual aid. Please report to TCSAR cache (Tuolumne County Search and Rescue meeting location) in Columbia tomorrow morning at 6:30 a.m.”

I quickly finish up what I am doing and start the multitasking of preparing for a search. I check Google Earth to familiarize myself with the probable search area, open topographic mapping software and print maps of the probable search area, pack gear, pack food and water, complete odds and ends and re-check the checklist. Having an evening's worth of lead-time is a nice respite, as the usual call is an immediate response-grab and go. This was a mutual aid call to assist a neighboring county. Other folks are in the field this evening and our job is to supplement their search tomorrow.

My wife, Robyn, jumps in to help me with many of the things I was suppose to do this evening so I can concentrate on preparing for the search. With “must-do” tasks complete, I attend to some unfinished business to clear my schedule for the following day. I am not sure this will last just one day, so I take extra time to prepare for multiple days in the field. Search operations are always unpredictable. I am finally in bed at midnight.

Alarm rings at 5 a.m.! Wake up dazed: “What? Urg! Oh yeah, search.” I jump in the shower, grab breakfast, pour the coffee Robyn set to auto last night and off I go. Somewhere between grabbing breakfast and kissing my wife goodbye, Evan, my 7-year-old son, awoke and climbed in bed with Robyn and was now snuggled in her arms. It looks very cozy and I depart envious.

I arrive at the TCSAR cache at 6:20 a.m. and receive the search brief and a team assignment. Team One, a mixed Calaveras County Search and Rescue (CCSAR) and TCSAR team of four including myself, is assigned to search a rocky drainage in the Emigrant Wilderness for a missing 85-year-old fly fisherman. William, our subject (SAR term for the lost person), was camped with his family near a mountain lake in the high Sierra for several days before going missing. He departed camp for a few hours of fishing after dinner Monday evening and was not seen since. TCSAR had searched the immediate area on Tuesday but had not located the subject. Wilderness searches are extremely difficult, and this area is exceptionally rugged terrain. It is no surprise the subject was not located on the first search day and this was exactly why mutual aid was called in.

We are then notified we will be transported by helicopter to the search area direct from Columbia Airport. As a searcher, I always enjoy the helicopter rides. The sound of helo blades winding up reminds me of the importance of our mission. I also appreciate obtaining a bird's-eye view of our search area, which provides much needed perspective, especially in an unfamiliar location. The punctuation is that we'll be flying an SA-135 Lama-a high-altitude rescue helicopter-complete with a large Plexiglas bubble-type cockpit with outrageous views from every seat. I had seen one operating on Denali while climbing at 14,000 and 17,000 feet, plucking severely ill and injured climbers off the mountain. Lamas are legendary for their high-mountain rescues and I am looking forward to experiencing a ride before it's written into the history books.

Our flight is spectacular as our pilot follows the terrain rising gently toward the crest of the Sierra Nevada. We fly up the canyons to their start and then rise, blades “whoomping,” barely over the top of the ridge and into the next rugged mountain canyon.

Immersed in the Emigrant Wilderness in the central Sierra, famous for passage to American pioneers along the Emigrant Trail, we now decelerate and drop into a mountain meadow, touching down on the soft grass blowing in the rotor wash. What would those California settlers have thought if they could see us now? Later that day, one of our teammates would find an old wagon wheel in our search area. Perhaps future wanderers in 2208 will discover helicopter rotors in remote wilderness settings and wonder what we would have thought of their technology if we were there to see it.

We quickly unload, blades whirling above our heads as the turbo-charged engine roars. We watch the Lama depart, circle and then fly overhead on its way back to pick up Team Two at the Columbia Airport. We start walking downhill toward the drainage leading to a steep and narrow granite-choked canyon. Calling William's name and whistling frequently, we spread laterally and search along the boulder-strewn creek. Two on each side, we constantly weave in and out of rocks, bushes, nooks and crannies, looking for any sign of William. The ultimate sign, of course, is William himself, but we are trained to look for anything suspicious, such as tracks, clothing, personal items, bent vegetation, food, wrappers, etc. We constantly scan in all directions.

We then take turns sweeping, following alongside a parallel hiking trail that roughly follows the drainage while the other three teammates continue to search along the creek. The scenery is majestic and I ask myself how long it would take me to otherwise get to this point on my own: driving, hiking and scrambling, probably a good day at least. Today I arrive in 25 minutes from Columbia. We continue this pattern of searching and exit the narrow canyon into a broad semidry wetland filled with scrub brush.

Spreading out a bit more on the flats, we continue to search and call out for a responsive subject, but we all expect the worst. An 85-year-old, two nights out, no food or water (although available in the creek) and not prepared for the night-the odds are certainly stacked against him. Fresh tracks are recorded on the trail moving north, but most likely belonging to another through hiker. We mark the tracks on GPS, sketch out the print and continue-calling, whistling and searching.

A few minutes later, Ted, one of our team members comes on over the radio with a report of a possible find! After some back-and-forth radio traffic, William is positively identified and found alive! The rest of Team One arrives at William's location shortly after. He is conscious and in stable condition. Cuts and scratches to his arms and legs reveal a tough two nights out, but William is a stoic outdoorsman and did not give up. This is the most important quality in survival-the will to live. He is, however, quite disoriented and disheveled after his long ordeal.

Ted later explained that while searching he saw a small piece of blue duct tape on the trail and stopped to examine it. He found it noteworthy and recorded it. After examination, he turned partially around, looked up and saw William quietly leaning against a rock in a depression. Ted's training and discipline of examining the smallest of signs had saved William's life. Had he not stopped to check out the small piece of “trash,” he would have walked on by and the story would probably have taken a different ending. We learned later that William had been using blue duct tape to “Band-Aid” his splitting fingers over the past few days. Chance, circumstance and luck-our lives all hang by a thread.

The Lama, on its way in to drop off a K-9 search team, detours and lands in a small open patch of grass very close to our location. After a quick medical assessment, we carry William to the helicopter, load him and our packs and off we go. William, stoic by nature, quietly watches the wilderness roll by below him from the passenger seat beside me. I have no idea what his thoughts are, but I can imagine relief and reflection are mixed in with the confusion brought on by the last two days in his struggle for survival. Watching William impresses upon me again how fleeting our lives really are-both in time and in uncertainty.

Arriving at the U.S. Forest Service helitack base on the ridge near Long Barn, we unload William and our gear. William is transferred to an ambulance and taken to a hospital for a full medical assessment. We are met by Bruce, our CCSAR teammate, who drives us back to the TCSAR cache in Columbia. We are then officially released at 2:30 p.m. from the search operation and drive across the North Fork of the Stanislaus back home to Calaveras County.

Sitting in front of a well-earned hamburger in Murphys, I think about the day's events: William, his story of survival, the incredible scenery and the remarkable helicopter insertion and extraction-an almost unbelievable story. This one a success, but we know in search and rescue that they all don't have a happy ending. Ultimately, I am the fortunate one who has been provided the rare opportunity, privilege and responsibility of participating in activities that directly affect the lives of my fellow citizens-perspective and introspection always the outcome.

If you are interested in joining or supporting Search and Rescue, please contact the following:

Calaveras County Residence:

Contact Ted, CCSAR vice president, at ted@calaverassar.org, 728-0222 or calaverassar.org.

Tuolumne County Residence:

Call 533-5815, e-mail info@tuolumnesar.org or visit tuolumnesar.org/

Should you become lost:

Stay put: Find a nearby comfortable location and don't move.