The weather on the way up was wonderful!
Lessons learned from a successful ski-crevasse rescue
I never thought I would be the person who could say “Oh crap! I lost my ski to a crevasse.” Probably not the story I will be telling my grandma anytime soon…
A few weeks ago, Louie, Connor, Kristen and I were skiing on Mount Rainier. The weather was moody that day, with clouds rolling in and out in the afternoon. As we were descending, the clouds rolled in extra thick; we decided to stop to have a snack and wait for them to clear. I was so excited for the full size avocado I had in my pack that I thought I was about to consume with pure joy.
My spring ski setup does not have brakes; I opt for leashes instead. There are a few personal justifications of why I choose to ski without brakes in the spring: It’s easier to attach skis to pack for long ski carries (very common for PNW spring skiing), lighter weight, less to worry about during transitions.
On this particular day, I followed my routine of taking my ski off, then unclipping the leash off my boot as I was holding the ski with my other hand to flip it over to sit on. I am not quite sure what happened this time, but as I removed my leash, the ski got away from me, pivoted and started racing downhill. At first the movement was slow, but I was surprised how quickly it accelerated even on a mostly flat glacier terrain. There was a small crack maybe 20 feet away, which prevented me from attempting the classic “let’s try and dive for the ski to save it.” My ski proceeded to gain speed and disappear into a rather enormous crevasse about 150 feet below us.
At this moment I was feeling pretty stupid. We were still a good 3500 feet above the end of our run. I knew that if the ski couldn’t be retrieved, I’d have to ski on one ski or walk all that elevation. I wasn’t feeling stoked about that, and I knew that the chances of getting my ski back were slim.
The group gave me a few minutes to collect my thoughts as I profusely apologized for the extra adventure I had just introduced. We walked over to the crevasse and set up an anchor to get a look over the edge. We used a deadman and a back up with an ice axe. The clouds continued to stay pretty thick, which was not helping the situation.
The clouds rolled in so quick, we retreated from our original plan to ski down. Louie at the top of the Fuhrer Finger.
Setting up an anchor after the ski fell into a crevasse.
Louie volunteered to be the one to look down into the crevasse. He clipped into the anchor and approached the edge. All I heard when he got to the edge was: “Oh wow, this thing is huuuge!” At a first glance, he thought the crevasse was over 60m deep. I had lost all hope and was ready to start walking downhill. However, since we were a party of four and had two 30 meter ropes on us, we decided that we would drop one rope into the crevasse attached to the anchor and then have someone check to see if that would give a bit more of contrast to gauge how deep the crevasse really was. Thankfully there was a solid bridge just to our right to easily walk over to the other side.
The edge where we had originally set up the anchor was a bit overhung, so we dropped the end of the rope on that side and Louie watched the rope as it dropped from the other side. At this point, Louie thought he could vaguely see the ski. I wasn’t too hopeful though.
After a discussion regarding risks of going down into the crevasse to try and retrieve the ski, our group had a plan. We would lower Louie into the crevasse to find the ski and then haul him out. We bought radios with us (we now do this on almost every tour) which helped the situation greatly. Louie had let us know when he reached the bottom and after a few minutes he HAD MY SKI. I couldn’t believe it, I may have done a happy dance. We were aware that he was pretty much the full rope length down, which meant we were now set to haul him out of a ~30 meter deep crevasse.
Kristen, Connor and myself set up a three to one system to pull Louie out. We weren’t sure how long the hauling would take, as all of us have only practiced hauling someone for maybe 20 feet in our glacier rescue classes or during practice set ups at home (i.e. our deck). Surprisingly, with a 3:1 system and three people, the hauling took less than 10 minutes. With permission from Connor and Kristen, I walked over to the other side of the crevasse to snap a photo for the last two rounds of hauling.
Left: Louie being hauled out by Kristen and Connor. I was permitted to step away to take this fairly epic shot from a safe snow bridge uphill from the crevasse. The weather was obviously still rough. The crevasse is bigger than it looks! Right: The view from the inside the crevasse.
We inspected my ski, which fell about 100 feet, and thankfully it was in perfect shape. I still couldn’t believe that I would get to descend with both skis; I was fully prepared to have a forever slog out. The clouds never did clear, but we were able to descend with no other shenanigans and enjoy some pretty fun skiing.
At first, I was really embarrassed to tell this story. I consider myself to be a person who is dialed in a mountain setting, so admitting that I let my ski get away from me seemed like I could basically label myself a “hot-mess”. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that these sorts of things could happen to anyone, no matter how dialed you may think you are. Sharing experiences like these is important and could teach others some valuable lessons.
Here are the lessons I have taken away from this. I hope you can find them useful if something like this ever happens to you or someone in your group.
— Do not try to jump and catch the object that may be getting away from you. You doing that may cause more harm to you then simply losing an object.
— Be careful not to rush to explore what has happened to the fallen object once it gets out of sight. Since you are focused on getting it back, you may not notice other hazards around you.
— In our case, we didn’t hurry to see if we could get the ski, we slowly approached the area, set up an anchor, and double checked everything
— Have a back up plan. What happens if you can’t get the object back? Are you capable of getting down safely?
— Travel with a group who has appropriate training that you trust to be able to help in a rescue situation.
— Carry radios, they are very helpful during skiing as well as for incidents like this.
If you ski on glaciated terrain, I hope you never have to watch your ski (or anything or anyone else) fall into a crevasse, but no matter what you should make sure you are ready to perform a rescue. For us this ended up being a great practice day, and I am thankful I have capable partners to recreate in the mountain with.
24 comments
Thank you for the “situation” and the results. Yes, we all have a similar “situation” but few ever discuss the story. 😉
I lost a ski at Washington Pass due to improperly cleared pin holes in my boot. I went back in the spring and spent a day unsuccessfully looking for it. A few years later on a B.C. hut trip a friend mentioned that a local had found one single ski at the same spot the same spring that I had lost mine. Skis to sometimes come back-even years later. Great story, thanks for sharing your experience. I am always so careful with my brakeless skiis in the spring. This story reinforces that habit.
Beg to differ about the ‘do not try to jump and catch’ conclusion..i once jumped and caught a rapidly absconding ski, and i got a hand on the tail and held it..and thanks be to Jesus, or whoever, i did.. there were no crevasses about, and no major risk of me sliding..but several hundred meters of fairly steep and uniform slope with fairly hard snow below me would have meant almost certainly losing the ski had i not reacted
Sounds like a good adventure, thanks for sharing
Wonderful! And now you have extra crevasse-rescure practice in a relatively low-stress situation (better a an unroped ski down there than an unroped person!).
BnD leashes are long enough to leave
them attached for lunch or putting on skins or whatever , but really I found i liked brakes
+1 for the BnD leashes – makes it easy to secure your ski completely before you take the leash off. And you can put your leash on before you pull your tails out of the snow.
Funny there’s no lesson about brakes on skis.
Even with brakes, this can still happen:
Brakes might be locked up for skinning, and I have seen plenty of skis fly down the hill even with brakes
My ski partner this spring lost a ski when transitioning as the skis breaks were locked. It disappeared into the fog and by chance someone below us snagged it.
I’ve found brakes are pretty much useless in stopping a ski if the terrain is even a bit steep or the surface is powder.
A few years ago a friend lost a ski with brakes, we watched it speed down a couloir, across a flatter runout zone, and then disappear into another couloir, the brakes doing nothing more than kicking up a spray of powder! Luckily i managed to find it and then had to skin back up ~500m vert to bring him back the ski.
Leave no ski behind! We have all done embarrassing things Julia, sounds like you and your party handled this situation well and with a good attitude.
Also, I’m a bit envious of Louie. I’ve only been over my head in one crevasse, and let’s just say it wasn’t “planned” 🙂
It was pretty cool going down in that big crevasse! It was impressive!
I’m basically sure this is going to happen sooner or later to me. I really like those B&D leashes and they totally make sense. Too bad I can’t really get them in Europe. Might have to rig something up.
Brakes aren’t really the answer – besides the weight, the potential for breakage and all that – you either lose your crap in powder, (not that I ever lose my crap. Ever.) or the ski goes skidding off on top of its brake.
Next item: a way to keep your backpack from getting loose. Never happend to me – but I’ve actually chased more of those than skis.
Wookie, you CAN get them in Europe, Jon at the Piste Office in the UK has them!
https://www.thepisteoffice.com/index.php/the-piste-office-store/ski-leashes-traces-ties/b-d-ski-leash_55684bf72b3c5-detail.html
I have Marker Alpinists with brakes on my Skis. For resort, just the brakes. In remote or steep and/or deep, plus leashes. The brakes are a small weight penalty only, so I decided to keep them. The entire setup is within good ski touring weight even with the brakes. Flimsy and not super grabby, but still.
I used the B&D leashes for years and liked them, except for their weight, price, and the clips they come with. It seems you can get leashes of all lengths and weights cheap if you go on line and look for leashes that people fishing off boats use to keep from losing stuff overboard. The ones I’m using are less than half the weight, five feet long (not six), and their clips use a spring-loaded gate, not a lobster-claw. The loop at one end is screwed onto the back of a boot up top, and the other clips onto a split ring attached to the toe piece. This setup is super convenient, and the split ring will fail in an avalanche, I hope.
If a ski comes off while skiing, you will not get thrashed, but you will not lose the ski. You have a stretchy cord going from you to the ski. Typically, I attach and detach the leashes only at trailheads. Even field waxing is done with leashes on. Actually, I only wax in the field and only when needed. Crayon technique. This keeps skin adhesive cleaner.
My skis and bindings are very light; so the light leashes are enough. If your gear is much heavier, the B&D leashes or their equivalents may be better. But maybe not. It depends how much weight you like to lug uphill.
I lost a BnD leash (snagged during gnarly bushwhack decent) so did the same as Jim and ordered a six pack of cheaper coiled fishing gear leashes from Amazon. Certainly not as tough, but the US/Canadian exchange rate makes boutique cross border shopping tough.
Not nearly as embarrassing as showing your buddy “how stable my canoe is”, dumping it, losing two fishing rods, fly box, sunglasses, and other assorted items to a cold yet very calm lake. At least I saved a PBR and the boat from sinking to the bottom.
Or, dumping your canoe (in the same lake) thereby killing your wife’s I-phone.
Thanks, Julia, for sharing that account. There’s a lot of good lessons there for all of us who aspire to spend lots of time in the backcountry and do so safely. I really like one key takeaway (my paraphrasing): “don’t make it worse.” Be deliberate about evaluating the situation and risks and developing a deliberate plan to handle both.
Yikes! Glad you got it back. DId you still end up skiing the finger? How goes it in late July? Rainier ski season is really sticking around this year 🙂
Happend to me, too. On the heavily crevassed Glacier du Milieu in the Mont Blanc Massive. Since I was solo the rescue of my ski cost me a lot of nerves. Just to get to the crack that swallowed my ski took me an hour of roped walking through the labyrinth – including two falls when the snow bridges under me collapsed. When I was back at the car I first needed to just sit there for half an hour as I was feeling too shaky to drive… That particular ski now has a prominent place on the wall just over my sofa – to remind me not to do stupid things in the mountains again (which of course I still do from time to time (-; ).
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