Rideau Ground Search and Rescue

We'll be attending an upcoming helicopter training next month. Acclimating and exposing our horses to a wide variety of SAR sights and sounds is a big part of what we do!

Rideau Ground Search and Rescue is recruiting new members. If you enjoy the outdoors and are interested in supporting your community, consider joining your local volunteer SAR team. Rideau SAR will be putting on a basic search and rescue course in March. New members will learn search techniques, navigation, wilderness survival, communications, and much more. For more information about our team and what we do, please contact us either through this page or send an E-mail to [email protected]

Mountain Rescue Part 6- in which I get rescued I was sliding down, unable to stop myself with my own strength. I felt my legs hit something that stopped my sli...de. I was afraid to move. As I’m thinking back and wanting to retell this accurately, there is a gap in my memory. It puzzles me to think about this because I don’t think I lost consciousness. I don’t think I was dissociating. I think the next thing I remember is being upright and bracing myself against a tree, the same tree I had been braced against for most of this ordeal. I don’t know if this is the tree that stopped me, or if I moved back to this tree. This is where I stayed. I started to think, I need to get lower. Maybe if I can go DOWN (in my mind- down the mountain in front of me) I can stay warmer. I’m glad I didn’t act on that thought or I’m sure this story wouldn’t have ended the way it did. I reached for my light, but it was gone. I just didn’t know what to do, but I stayed put. I kept punching my arms up trying to keep my heart rate up, but I didn’t know how long I could keep it up. Other things I didn’t know: I didn’t know that Kathleen had started driving to the mountain at 4:20 pm, over an hour earlier than when I told her I’d be done, because she had a feeling I might need her. I didn’t know that she was talking to the tram employees and operator before sunset, and they announced my name over speakers at the top of the tram shortly after sunset. I didn’t know that when I didn’t respond up there she called the state police. I didn’t know that Cibola Search and Rescue and Albuquerque Mountain Rescue had organized and deployed a search and rescue operation that was not just for me. I didn’t know that the snowshoers had not made it to the top, and they were trapped in a far more dangerous situation than I. I didn’t know that the snowshoers could see me, and they were trying to communicate with me. (This now amuses me greatly to think of all the flailing and dancing and punching around I was doing. Maybe I provided them with a source of entertainment while they were stuck in their position for hours.) I didn’t know the helicopter HAD seen me!! I didn’t know that not only was I ON TRAIL, I was only a half mile from the top, and at around 9:30 pm a team had started at the summit of the La Luz trail to come down to me. (I’m thinking this was about the same time I finally resolved to just stay put at my tree.) I didn’t know any of these things. I knew I was alone. I knew I was colder than I’d ever been. I also started to KNOW if I could stay put, I could stay alive. I can’t remember if I was still eating any nuts or snow, but I do remember breathing and thinking and getting and staying calm. I had no idea what time it was, but I began to pin my hopes on the idea that if I could make it through the night, I would be able to do *something* in the morning. Maybe when the sun came up I would be warmer and less shaky and able to move back down the trail. Maybe the sun would melt the ice. Maybe search and rescue would come on foot. Or if not them, maybe other hikers would be in the area in the morning. Maybe I’d literally be able to see, and maybe I’d be able to see a way out. I thought, I can do this all night. If I move and rest and move and rest, I can make it through this endurance event. Move and rest now meant punching, bicycling my arms, squatting down with my back braced against the tree, standing back up, sitting down braced against the tree to stretch out my legs. There was also the ever present involuntary movement of my whole body shaking. I knew that things are hardest during the long cold night. Things get so much better when the sun comes up. I’ve done all night events before, cold and exhausted, (thank you Potawatomie 2018), and I just needed to get through the night. I did not have to make it through the whole night. Around 11:00 pm (putting the timeline together in hindsight) I saw a bright light ahead! Then another, like wobbly,slow moving headlights. I yelled, Hello!!! Hello!! I’m over here. My name is Mary!! Two headlights turned into more, and a voice called back, Mary! Stay where you are! Don’t move! We’re coming to you! I yelled, Okay! Thank you! Thank you! Thank You! and I waited. It seemed to take sooo long for them to reach me. It turns out that was an accurate perception. It had taken this team of rescuers- men wearing crampons, equipped with ice axes, shovels, and repelling equipment, people who know this trail and know how to move on it- it took them about an hour and a half to make their way 1/2 mile down the La Luz trail. That’s how impassable the trail was! It was still taking all my energy, focus, and strength to stay braced against the tree doing my movements. When they reached me it felt like an enormous weight had been lifted from me, and it also felt like my body became an enormous weight, heavy and impossible to move. I was still shaking involuntarily, but I didn’t know if I would be able to intentionally move of my own accord from this spot. I told them I wasn’t injured, but I didn’t know if I could move. They told me to not worry about moving, and they explained what they were going to do- check me for injuries and frostbite, get me warmed up with dry socks, gloves, hat, coat, and hand warmers; get me food and water, put a harness on me, see if I could walk, and walk me out. They quickly made a level area on the trail and put down a small tarp so I could sit. I couldn’t move down to it on my own because I was too heavy and shaky, and when I tried the leg cramps started again. They asked permission to assist me and helped move me to the tarp. There were several of them all quickly doing separate jobs- opening packets of Gu, a bottle of water, and hand warmers. They asked about allergies and replaced my frozen mittens with a pair of latex gloves to create a vapor barrier, then hand warmers and ski gloves over the top. They were getting ready to put a hat on me, and I saw a giant hand warmer and asked if I could put it on my head, so it went between my buff and the hat. They put a big warm coat on my. They told me they were going to take off my wet socks, and I told them how my feet felt fine even though they were wet. They still got them warmer yet by taking off my socks and putting bread bags on my bare feet, then dry socks over those, then more bread bags over the socks, then my shoes and microspikes. I was still trembling too much to hold a Gu packet or a bottle of water, so they helped me with those. I apologized profusely for everything and told them how stupid I felt. They said they were doing what they love- helping a fellow hiker finish her hike, that they LOVE being out here on this beautiful trailand they said it with such enthusiasm and conviction I believed them. They told me I did everything right by staying on the trail and staying put. I told them I hadn’t known if I was still on the trail and told them I had tried moving some in different directions including UP, directly above me. They looked up and all started shaking their heads no, no, no, no, no- that would have been impossible, that’s not a place you can go up. It looks like you stayed pretty much right where the helicopter spotted you, and you did really good. I was shocked the helicopter had spotted me and told them I hadn’t known that, that I was under tree cover and dressed in snow-colored clothes. They explained that the helicopter search uses infrared and a bunch of other technology and had spotted me pretty quickly, but they had kept making passes around this area looking for two men who had been snowshoeing and had gotten lost and stuck. I followed them! I followed their snowshoe tracks! I told them about following them most of the afternoon until it looked like their tracks had gone off trail. They said it was good I stopped following them because it sounded like they were trapped in a deep ravine. They had a phone still and had called for help. The rescue team thought they knew their location, but around the same time my team got to me, another team arrived at the other location, but couldn’t find the snowshoers. We decided to start trying to walk out. They explained we were not going to go up to the rest of the La Luz trail because it was impassable. We were going to go back down the La Luz trail a bit, the way I had come, then cut up to the ridge as soon as that was possible. Moving was extremely slow going at first. I was wearing a harness with a handle at my lower back for someone to hold me from behind. They gave me trekking poles to help support my weight. A couple people walked in front of me breaking up the ice, packing down the snow, and making a trail. When I first began walking it took me about 30 seconds per step because I was so shaky and weak. I was feeling warmer now, so it seemed like the trembling was due to muscle fatigue more than cold. The rescuers were patient and encouraging, telling me to take all the time I needed. At the same time I could hear their radio conversations about the status of the other search for the snowshoers and the status of the tram. The tram usually closes at 10:00 pm, but had agreed to stay operating until midnight for us. It was now approaching midnight and it was clear neither my rescue team nor the snowshoers’ would make it by then. The head of the rescue operation was trying to persuade the tram operator to stay longer, but if that didn’t happen, we could stay in a heated building at the summit for the rest of the night. I asked if I could use a phone to call Kathleen and Lee and was told no, but if Kathleen had been the one to call for help, then she would have been told I had been found. With a few more Gus and having gotten some movement going, I was slowly able to move better. The rescuers nearest me engaged me in conversation, asking if I had enjoyed the lower parts of the trail, telling me I could still say I completed the La Luz trail (in my head I disagreed of course), telling me how much they love the trail, and telling me they do this (rescue people) ALL THE TIME. I heard another rescuer radio in that my condition was greatly improving. It was, and I was able to move faster now and would only start trembling again when we had to stop. Part of the frequent stopping was due to the person in front of me needing to turn around and shine a light for me to see where to step after the steps had been made. I asked if they had another headlamp, and they did. Once I had my own headlamp we seemed to make better time, and we got to where we could cut up to the ridge. They radioed to a team at top who started making snow stairs coming down while we crawled up. They told me it would be a hard climb and told me to use the poles to help. I told them I preferred to bear crawl it without the poles, and they encouraged me to give it a try. We made good time working towards the top, and they complimented me on being a good rescue-ee by telling them what I needed and doing what I knew worked for me. We met up with a couple women at the top who had been making stair coming down. It felt exhilarating to finally be up on the ridge!! There was a clear, defined, good trail up there leading back to the tram. We learned that the tram operator had agreed to run it until 1:00. It was 12:30, and they told me to tell them if the pace was too fast, but we were going to try to make good time to get there. I asked for the poles back, and we started a fast hike toward the tram. Shortly before we got to it, we saw the other team cutting up the mountain with the snowshoers. We reunited on the crest trail and got to the tram just in time! The snowshoers and I didn’t talk much. One said, I’m so happy to see you, in a sort of flat, barely-able-to speak way, and I shared the same. They looked despondent. There was talk of some of the rescuers still being below retrieving their gear, and not knowing if they’d make it to the tram. I later learned that the snowshoers had been at the bottom of some sort of 60 foot ice cliff, and they were retrieved with ropes, but just them, not their packs. We all made our way into the tram, and on the ride down I saw one of the snowshoers looking at his phone. I asked to borrow it and called Lee. Kathleen was waiting with EMTs when we arrived at the bottom. I want to wrap this up and get to work. Kathleen is writing her story as well. I will link to it in the comments. I’m including a couple of pictures with my guess as to where I was stuck, but I will ask SAR to see if I’m right. I plan to write another post about my recovery and learning process and more about these rescue organizations. Thank you all for reading and for so much support you are sharing.