February 09, 2021

The day in 2002 when Skip said “there has been an avalanche, but we are okay.”


 

A friend from Alaska contacted Skip today requesting photos from Skip’s and John’s 2002 Avalanche, in order to update the accident page on Friends of The Chugach Avalanche Center Accidents Page.  This request - on top of approx.16 avalanche deaths - in the last 10 days here in the U.S, meant the topic of Avalanches was constant this afternoon in our home and it carried some extra emotional weight.

The words that follow are my account of that day in 2002. Anyone can ask Skip about his avalanche. He has always believed that retelling this experience, as challenging as it may be, will help everyone learn, including himself.

The challenge for him I believe and understand is sometimes how to put words to such a life experience. It easily could have been an experience with death and that is where we went today as we pulled out the fading ADN article from his file cabinet. The image is so real-the experience is so real-it lives in his cells. It lives in mine.





You can always read about this 2002 Avalanche in Jill Fredston’s book Snowstruck and Snowy Torrents 1996-2004

 

In the late afternoon of March 28th, 2002, I received a bunch of missed calls on my work cell. It was from an unknown number and I just assumed it was one of my parents from school. It later rang again and I was driving. I picked it up. It was Skip.

“Hello?” I said with a post school day flatness and fatigue.

“Ummm there has been an avalanche, but we are okay.” Skip said - also with a flatness  and fatigue in his voice.

I had been in Alaska for just over a year.  I had been backcountry skiing for just one winter. My avalanche awareness was not what it is today, but the word “Avalanche” got my attention.  Oh...and Skip and I had been dating for about a year and  my parents had just arrived in Anchorage the day before, to come meet this “boy” Skip that they sensed I was wild about. 

What transpired on that phone call was a conversation that assured me, they (John and Skip), were safe - at Kip Melling’s house-an Alaska Avalanche School instructor, Mtn Rescue volunteer and local who luckily saw the slide from his living room, across the valley. He was first on seen. The fact that the dogs were missing was a detail that later created a permanent knot in one’s chest-for many years to follow.


There were so many reasons they went out on that post-storm, bluebird day. There were so many reasons why this huge avalanche was triggered. There were so many reasons why they are both alive today. There are so many reasons why Skip still gets a bit silent when recounting that day- especially reviewing the images. That day - that avalanche - it changed their lives.


The Accidents reports give the best account of the details of the slide but those close to Skip know it was so humbling to awake the next morning with the front page image being of the slide and the talk of the dogs missing. But what Skip will not speak of and avoided even today, was what he did right.When a ski partner can locate and dig out another from a multiple feet burial, after being buried for a significant amount of time, it is a fact that this wife (and ski partner) doesn’t forget. Skip will never credit himself because the avalanche was triggered due to mistakes and that is where his energies lie. 

He was trained, he knew what to do- he had the gear- he knew had to use it and he had to use it. The hole below where he located and dug John out was eye opening to return to the next day. We had returned to search for the dogs along with many community members. I remember taking this picture and it all sinking in a bit deeper-no pun intended.


Fast forward to today-2021, and the voices being heard in ski communities today across the U.S. have offered everything from sadness, judgement, regret and fear in relation to the many deaths. This is a familiar and unfortunate trend during backcountry ski seasons. But what we all need to know is-those voices don’t matter most. What mattes is what our own voice says inside ourselves. What words do we tell ourselves on a powder day in the backcountry? We need to listen real close and we need to be the judge of our knowledge, our choices and our actions. We need to ask the right questions. We need to listen. We need to look. Not listening to our instincts and our gut, can be devastating.  This is easier said than done.

Practice it with your ski partners. Challenge each other by asking what voices are going on in each other’s heads? Our brains hold a lot of info-use it. If we don’t hear a voice of knowledge, reason, or experience, then might we consider not taking the risk and dropping in for that line, or taking that last run on a different slope?

My words above are quite jumbled but I thank you for reading. May you and your loved ones be safe in the backcountry tomorrow and all days forward. Thanks also to the amazing folks at all the Avalanche Forecast Centers and Avalanche Education venues through the U.S. Their work and your support of their work is crucial to success in the backcountry. 


AAA has a fabulous account of many of the avalanche accidents back to 2010 and as unfortunate as these accidents are, it is our responsibility to learn from them.
















1 comment:

Homer Mama said...

Powerful and important story telling Liz, it is hard and necessary to be reminded of that day.

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