The Bear and Me; Part 1; Kobayashi Maru;

Hello Real World 

That moment you realize that what you thought was a one hour class is actually a 4 hour class. Great.  It couldn't be helped now, so off I went to a basic first responder lesson that would teach us how to react quickly in different scenarios to give the patient a fighting chance. It started out like I thought it would with a movie explaining what we should learn. (Four hours of this, greeeeat. **rolls eyes**)  But no, our teacher, "the Bear" had something else in mind.  It went from boring movie to story time.  And not just story time, but to be a player in said story, cool.

We were put into groups and all but one were asked to go to the end of the hallway and await instructions. Ten minutes go by, then fifteen, and more. Finally it was my group's time. One person was directed into a side room, me and the 3rd group member were taken back to the classroom and then it dawned on me: it wasn't just story time, it was information for the game we were about to play. A game based on what we had learned so far in the class.

'Story time' had consisted of some basic information. In this case, there was supposed to have been a crew of four guys, but one didn't show up so we were down to a team of three. Company policy says that we must go places in groups of two, so two of us in the control room overseeing the production of snow, and in theory two of us to check the snow guns that would shoot the mix onto the runs.

'We' had sent one of our own guys, alone, to check the gun lines and to keep them operational. I say 'we' because the Bear had told us what 'we' did, even though it was against policy. We were supposed to have radio check-ins every 20 minutes with the guy inspecting the guns. It is 0100 and a storm is coming in shortly. The last check in was 30 minutes ago and the storm is almost on us. The question is: what do we do?

My mentality was to get our buddy back. We had a general idea of his location and we knew he had the proper equipment to weather the elements until Mountain Rescue arrived. But, he was still outside and had not contacted us.  My friend and I agreed that we needed to shut down the snow making machines and call for help, and to call our supervisor and give him an update. Mountain Rescue was an hour away.  The supervisor's phone went to voicemail, so we left a message.

Then came the dilemma: do we go looking for our teammate or do we wait?  I said I wouldn't go, because it could make us part of the problem, and we knew Mountain Rescue was on the way. My partner wanted to go on the grounds that he had a good idea where #3 guy was, and it could be as simple as a radio issue. I asked how much longer it would take to shut the machines down. Bear said that they had already been shut down, so the ball was in my court.  Company policy said that we could leave the operation room if everything was shut down (it was), and my buddy was going out looking. In the end I decided it was better to collaborate with him than let him go out alone.

Off we went to the other room where we 'found' the guys sled next to one of the pits used for snow making. Each pit is about 20 feet deep and square, and in the bottom of each pit are pipes that will sometimes freeze over causing the gun to shut down. The tool to fix this is a propane torch, similar to those used to burn weeds. We find #3 guy laying in the bottom of the pit, unresponsive, but with the torch off.  (The actual 'pit' was two tables stacked on top of each other in a corner.)  Looked safe. So 'down' my friend goes to check him out.

"Ok,"  Bear says to my buddy, "so halfway down you lose consciousness and you too are unresponsive.  Zane?  Now what do you do?"

In the back of my head I say to myself,  'I wanted to stay put.' But on the flip side, had I not gone, the consequences of that choice would have been all the harder. Here I was in complete control of what to do next. A propane torch in a non-ventilated concrete box, and  gas had filled the pit. Stop and think.  Don't make a stupid mistake.  I asked if I could contact Mountain Rescue, which the answer was yes.  Perfect. I 'called' them and told them where I was, and what I knew for sure, and was told to monitor the situation.

Simulation end.


Debrief


"How many of you watch Star Trek?" Bear asked.

I raised my hand, being one of  a few people that did the same.

"Who has heard of the Kobayashi Maru?"

This time it was just my hand that raised. I got bonus points for that, in fact during the exercise I thought what we were doing was very similar to what Captain Kirk had done. My situation was also a no win scenario:  do we deal with the thought that our buddy is in trouble and wait for help?  Or do we go after him in a valiant, yet possibly suicidal, effort?

We walked back toward the classroom for the rest of the debrief. I asked what really was the best way to handle the situation. It was to call Mountain Rescue, and stay put. I then asked should I have stayed at base?  Or should I have gone  with my friend like I did?  Bear said the choice was up to me.  The machines were shut off, and he was going to go, so me going with him was also okay.  As it turned out, it was a good thing that I had gone. If I had decided to stay behind, things could have gotten worse.  Much worse.

"So Zane," Bear says, rehashing as we walked back into the room, "you received a check in on the radio 15 minutes ago saying that the sled had been found but that was all the info you were given. Now you have two lost guys and the weather is here.  What do you do?"  I inform Mountain Rescue of the recent events and tell them that my guess was that the two team members were together somewhere but both unable to communicate. Next would be an update to my supervisor (who wouldn't pick up) and I would remain where I was so that I don't make things worse.  It could have played out like that. It would have gone from bad, to worse, to nightmarish... had this not been a class. But it was a valuable class. The biggest thing that we learned was to CYA.  And the A's of your team.  Always.

My peers looked at me differently at the end of class.  They had been sitting in the room, knew what had 'happened' and watched how my and my buddy reacted to the whole thing. Bear created a healthy amount of stress that made it hard to think rationally.  It felt like I had been triple sat at the restaurant in the waiting table days.  I reminded my self that it was "just" a game.  A game that had I not learned valuable lessons for future usage could have dire consequences.

I am looking forward to these classes now.  If this is what college is like then I am really going to like it.

Z

Waddington Trip Report; Part 3; Into the Movies

A New Pace

There are three rules of the mountains: things are always farther than they appear; things are always steeper than they appear; and things are always harder than they appear. It was time to go from the forest to the mountains, and the only way to do that was up. After getting into rope teams, we set out to climb the pass. Traveling in a rope team is therapeutic.  You're still connected to your teammates and yet you are totally absorbed in your own thoughts. Just the crunch of the snow beneath your boots.

The hands of my watch spun onward.  The next time I checked, the little hand had circled three times. During those three hours we kicked up toward the clouds, and the view when we crested was unbelievable. Mountains in front of us formed a majestic wall of numerous assent possibilities.  The clouds hid the valley floor from us.  The WHY all came rushing back to me. I had spent so many hours laboring away to get to THIS point.  It all culminated in THIS moment. It was so much better than I had ever dreamed. It was... simply amazing.

The climber in me started thinking that traveling on snow was more safe than rock climbing. 'Safety' is an interesting notion because nothing is absolutely safe in the mountains.  Like life, there are no guarantees. At first I was concerned that moving on snow would be less protected than climbing on rock. That's simply not the case. When tied into a rope team, each team member creates protection for the others in the event of a fall.  Unlike climbing protection (helmet, rope, etc) each 'piece' of protection - each person - is moving in tandem and always looking for ways to keep the team safe.


Blinding Clarity 

As we worked to master the art of trudging, my mind wandered to what we had done up to that point. It was then that a startling realization set in. When we traveled in rope teams there were times where one MUST NOT FALL. I began to understand exactly how dangerous a hobby I had chosen. Anything in the mountains has the potential to be very dangerous. There were many times on this trip where my only thought was 'this is a no fall zone'.  Just that simple.  Fate stepped in to underline the point.

I received a text from my climbing partner back home saying that she was pretty shaken.  Having only seen her rattled once, I was very concerned and 'protect mode' kicked in. After numerous texts and a phone call, enough of the pieces were in place for me to understand. While taking a few friends climbing the previous weekend, the unthinkable happened.  A rope slid through the system, dropping the climber the remaining 60 or so feet to the ground. His pelvis was broken, but no spinal injury to my partner's knowledge. The climber landed 10 feet from where my friend was standing, and she was understandably traumatized.

No one person was at fault; however both sides should have claimed responsibility for the accident. The leader for not knowing how much rope was needed for the route, and the belayer for not being aware of how much rope he had left.

After coming back from the trip where we had one evacuation and a couple of very close calls, I now have new clarity on just how dangerous the mountains can be. You have to be on your A game the entire time, from parking lot to parking lot. And a  more scary thought than that is you could do everything right and it could still all go wrong. When you take someone out with whom to share your passion, you are also their protection, the resident expert. Be prepared as best you can.

Be safe out there.


Z