Avalanche: Prepare for surprise

One of the most distinguished climbing careers in Northwest history almost came to an early end on a winter morning in the early 1990s.

Eric Simonson, the Tacoma climbing guide famous for leading the 1999 Mount Everest expedition that discovered the body of George Mallory, was trudging toward the summit of Mount Rainier above Cowlitz Cleaver thinking conditions couldn't get much better.

"I was fooled," Simonson said.

He heard a crack and watched a long fissure open on the slope. He dove over the fracture and wrapped his arms around a rock just as the slope started to slide. The next climber in the roped-up group of five had no place to run. Simonson tried to hold on to keep himself and his partner from being swept down the mountainside, but the force of the avalanche ripped him free. Simonson and the other climber likely would have been swept 800 vertical feet and buried under tons of snow if the other three climbers hadn't been able to dig in with their ice axes and stop them from falling.

"It all happened in about two seconds," Simonson said. "We were very fortunate."

Fortunate, because the only sure way to survive an avalanche is to avoid it all together. Even the most cautious and experienced climbers can find themselves in trouble. Simonson drove this point home recently as he told this story during an avalanche clinic he did for the Mount Tahoma Trails Association.

As a warm winter keeps ski resorts and snow play areas closed, people are heading to the backcountry for their snow fun. And in the backcountry there is no ski patrol to dynamite unstable slopes or post avalanche hazard signs.

Approximately 85 percent of avalanche fatalities happen in the backcountry, according to a paper written by Northwest Avalanche Institute director Paul Baugher. Skiers and climbers make up the majority of the fatalities, but snowmobilers and snowboarders are gaining fast, Baugher writes.

If you head for the backcountry, you should know how to recognize the potential for avalanches and be prepared to be surprised.

Simonson's training program illustrates just how hard it can be to survive an avalanche.

On a snow field just above Paradise, Simonson dropped an avalanche beacon into a glove, buried it in the snow and hollered "There's been a terrible accident."

Pam Painter of Eatonville was among the new MTTA ski patrol members searching for the beacon. Even though she had a pretty good idea where it was, it took her about 10 minutes to locate and dig up the beacon.

"He probably didn't make it," Simonson said told the group.

Painter proved to be a quick learner. On her next try, she honed in on the beacon and dug it up in less than two minutes.

But in an avalanche, there likely won't be time to wait for help from somebody like Painter.

"If you have to go for help, you're probably going to be searching for a body," Simonson said.

The chance of surviving an avalanche if you are totally buried is about 33 percent and that percentage is cut in half after 20 minutes, Baugher writes.

Simonson suggests anybody heading to the backcountry carry a shovel, avalanche beacon and a probe in addition to the "10 essentials" - a map, compass, flashlight, extra food, extra clothing, sunglasses, first-aid supplies, pocket knife, matches and fire starter.

These items aren't much help without training in how to use them. Experts like Simonson and Baugher say backcountry adventurers should seek training from an avalanche professional.

One frequently taught experiment to gauge the risk of avalanche on slopes of 25 degrees or more is called the Rutschblock Technique, a test developed in Switzerland in the 1970s.

Using a ski or cord to cut out and isolate a column of snow, you step on to the top of the column to see how easily it slides.

If it slides before you step on it, the area is unstable. The stability also is suspect if it fails on the first or second jump. If it doesn't slide after two jumps, the risk of an avalanche is likely low in that area.

Simonson says to form an opinion about avalanche conditions before your backcountry journey, then regularly adjust that opinion based on observations and tests.

And never let yourself get too confident.

"I call this the 'lemming effect,' " Simonson said. "If you make the wrong decision and nothing happens, that's positive reinforcement that you made the right decision even though it might have been the worst decision in the world.

"If you see ski tracks in an area, don't assume it's safe. The other person might have been lucky. Don't fall into that trap."

What should you do if you can't convince yourself a slope is safe?

Simonson says do what he does.

"Turn around and go home," Simonson said. "Sometimes you forget you have that option.

"Turning around is always perfectly acceptable."

(Published Feb. 10, 2005)