OLD GLORY - by Steve Eastwood

Something’s up, I can feel it. It’s like a sound almost, and whatever it is I’m well aware of it now. I peer over the rim of my iced up sunnies and under the brim of my helmet to scope the gully ahead. What’s that? A fracture? Heart pumping I feel that the slope isn’t moving and realise it’s Cam’s boot-packed trail. Partially filled in with snowdrift. Cursing my lack of vision I feel and urge to clear out here – Now!

I charge along the filled in steps to gain my exit, when “boom” a wall of airborne snow comes flying over the cliff at the top of the gully. I hug the slope as snow brushes over my head and right shoulder. I get moving again thinking to myself for no more than a second that I wouldn’t have wanted to be in that.

I need to top out of here and let Cam know that it missed me, he must’ve set it off for sure. As I clamber out of the gully and look up the slope towards the top I can’t see Cam or the summit. He must be up there. As I start to move off again I glance down under my arm and notice Cam standing upright in the debris at the bottom of the gully. Shit!

He’s standing; that’s good.

I dump my pack on the snow; I need to get into downhill mode. Digging a platform takes me forever and changing my sunnies for goggles just as long. Finally I’m clipped in and ready to move, my descent begins not quite as planned. Solid jump turns lead me down rimmed up rocks. I don’t need to set anything else off and stay well clear of the gully.

Upon reaching Cam he’s already got one skin on his remaining ski. I ask if he wants to sit down to which he replies, “I’ve already tried that, the winds too much, lets just get out of here, get some shelter”. I locate his other ski on the surface up hill of us, ripped clean from his pack. He puts it on without a skin and we get out of there.

On the same day another slope with a record of sliding did just that, giving three people a real “ride”, washing them up on a debris pile over eight metres deep. With not one of them wearing a transceiver, they were lucky to say the least!. The whole event was witnessed from the nearby resort, from where they had seen their chosen line and left the resort boundary. A quick rescue was arranged with the victims picking up the bill.

As for us it was self rescue. Cam made it out under his own steam after we hooked up with  two other members of our party.

This wasn’t the only avalanche run-in of my season. A few days later at the Kicking Horse Resort in the Selkirk Range, while touring with friends including Juliane Bray and Nick, we experienced a classic slab release. With a high avalanche warning in the area, we’d picked a tree run on the left flank of the resort. Our group of riders numbered eight, so we’d broken into two and spaced our descent.

Coming across a light glade of trees I stopped to scope it. I called my mate J.B. over and as he rocked up, I felt the slope settle and release. This is an eerie feeling to say the least; it’s a few more moments before you’ll see it fracture, break up and then head off down the fall line. The slope released under JB’s heel side edge. I was standing half a step below the fracture and tensed for a moment as snow broke away around me leaving JB and myself still standing thankfully at the top, - it sure was a real eye opener to watch  as it peeled out around the trees and funnelled  down and the fall line. A 40cm slab had slid on a layer of hoar frost left by a five day fine spell after the last snow fall.

During the past 14 months in Canada I’ve had a total of 6 avalanche run-ins. Even with high hazard warnings more people are heading backcountry than ever before. Most are geared up with shovels, transceivers, probes and first-aid kits. But some still push it by hiking outside the boundaries with only a transceiver or nothing at all, and who apparently think that cotton hoodies are wind and water repellent. In Canada its not the locals doing this, it’s the tourists – and mostly Kiwis and Aussies at that! Most are inexperienced snowboarders.

If you have made the cash for a ticket to get on a mission overseas, and have any intentions of riding backcountry, then save a little bit more and deck yourself out in touring gear and learn how to use it. In this day and age, heading out into the backcountry without the right gear or knowledge just isn’t on.

Take this recent accident at Fortress Mountain, Alberta, Canada – one of ten avalanche that left people dead in the past two winters: A class 2 avalanche left two people dead after being set off by a group of snowboarders hitting a kicker just out of the areas boundary. The avalanche swept down onto a second party from above and was witnessed by staff at the ski resort. Both victims were males in their late teens. This occurred less than 24 hours after the last storm cycle – not the best time to be touring, even if it looks sweet and you’ve been there before.

The best way to understand what can and does happen within a snow pack is to sit an avalanche awareness course.

If you are a backcountry user and don’t already own or have access to a transceiver, shovel and probe, then you need to do so right away. You’ll also need to learn how to use your equipment, and practice with friends regularly. You don’t get many chances to learn from actually being in an avalanche, so stack the odds in your favor from the start.

You only get one lifetime to learn in, so play it safe.