Avalanche

Sunday was a day you always hear about but think it'll never happen to you. My number has been up multiple times this year, but this was as bad as it could have gotten minus the fact that I was as lucky as I could have been. It was a crazy day but here I am.

Tom and I went to ski Mt. Blackmore just south of Bozeman. We made the six mile skin in and summited the peak in clear conditions. It was an absolutely amazing day. Very calm wind and an amazing wintry setting. It just felt absolutely amazing to be out again and in the environment I've missed the last couple months. Well, we sat at the summit for a few minutes and took in all of the amazing terrain.

After a few minutes on the summit we took our skins off and started inching our way down the ridge we had just skinned up. It was hard windblown snow. Going down we both made ski cuts to check the stability and couldn't even get a very unstable wind slab on top to break. Although there were some unstable layers underneath we had a hard time getting them to break. When we dropped off the ridge we made our way down into a bowl and made another ski cut. We still didn't get anything to break. Just to be sure we dug a pit and checked stability. It was a little bit of an isolated area and we got different results than what we skied directly to the left of the pit. It was amazing how much variability each area had. Looking back this should have been our stopping point. Although, at the moment we were able to ski these slopes and weren't getting any ski cuts to break. Hindsight is 20/20.

After skiing the bowl we went up and over the ridge back into the main bowl we came up. The chute we skied was just over this ridge and led into a huge open bowl. After getting a hard ski cut at the top of the chute we still weren't getting any instability. Tom skied down the chute without any problems. I sat up top and waited for him to get to a safe zone so I could ski down. After he was behind a rock outcropping I dropped in, made a few turns and heard a "whoompf" behind me. At this point I wasn't totally panicked but was a little scared something large was breaking behind me. I made it a few more turns into the chute and then my feet were swept from underneath me. I was on my back sliding down the hill and trying to keep swimming towards the surface. I was hit by something and was turned around so I was still on my back going head first downhill. Time was so slow and I honestly can't believe how far I had gone. After I started to slow down at the bottom of the hill a larger second wave of snow came down and completely buried me. I was down about three feet. At this point my right lung had been compressed and I was trying to control my breath but couldn't do it. Staying calm was the first thing I was thinking but I just couldn't do it. After about 10 quick breaths, since my entire body was compressed from hundreds of pounds of snow, I lost consciousness.

My partner had turned his beacon to search and luckily quickly found me. I can't imagine what he was thinking seeing a huge area of white and no person. When he dug me out it was about 6 minutes from when I was buried. He said when he first saw my face he thought I was dead. I wasn't responding and had snow in my mouth but he quickly noticed I was just barely breathing. He cleared my airway while yelling my name at me and I finally came around only to mumble something uncomprehensive. I then pass out again and wake up again when he almost has me entirely dug out. The first thing I tell him is: "that would have been a peaceful way to go." I vaguely remember saying this but was utterly shocked that's what I say first.

After he gets me fully dug out we both sit there in shock and note that we're some of the luckiest unlucky guys. But once I stand up I start coughing blood and basically litter the pit of which I was buried in blood. My partner starts to get worried at this point but we've only found one of my skis and would therefore have to hike the six miles out. Not an ideal situation but doable. I insist that we probe a little bit longer to look for the ski and we eventually find it and are able to ski out. It was the greatest feeling.

The ski out was the most unnerving scenario I could imagine. I was exhausted, stressed out, and my emotions were all over the place. I was happy to be alive but depressed I had to deal with my own possible death. Helpless but in control.

We made it out by 7pm. I had just about stopped coughing up blood at this point but still felt on edge since I wasn't at my house. I knew I wouldn't feel safe until I made it home and sat down in a comfortable environment. And this was the other high point of this scenario. First finding the ski and now making it back to my house.

I'm still trying to sort through the details and I haven't been able to quit thinking about this scenario constantly. There was so much going on at that moment, but this gives the big picture. Anyone who wants to know more can call me and I'll give the last of the details.

The point is: I'm out alive.