by Ed » Tue Dec 05, 2017 6:38 am
Since I am a great admirer of Ellen's rescue reports, here is mine.
I met Ward two weeks earlier, when he was doing his first Skyline. He found it tough, but no special problems, nothing alarming. He started from Ramon Road about when I started from the museum. We hiked together from a little above Rescue Box 2 to the tram. His speed was not bad by my standards. He is 61, and had not done much hiking, the Lykken Trails and Skyline up to 4700'.
He wanted to join me on Saturday, which I thought was fine. We set out not expecting any problems. Played tag for a while with three muscular young men, very military looking, and certainly first timers, from the way they charged uphill and then took rest breaks at odd spots.
Then Ward began having problems: weakness, dizziness, trouble breathing. They became worse, with a lot of trouble breathing. I encouraged him to exhale forcefully, but it did not seem to do much good. Somewhere between Rescue Box 2 and Florian's (ex-) Water Cache, he was barely moving. We both agreed that he could not make it up to the tram or down to the museum. I made a mental dry run of a bivouac, and rejected it. Like most people on Skyline, Ward did not have what I would consider overnight clothes. Worse, we had no idea what was causing his problems, so it was possible he would be no better in the morning, and even that there was something life-threatening lurking there. So we decided he needed a rescue. I would have much preferred calling from Flat Rock, but even though it was not far away, I had doubts he could make it there in a reasonable amount of time. Decided to call 911 rather than use my SPOT, in order to have a line of communication.
I had problems communicating with the 911 operator, which was not unexpected. It was not her fault, they have training, experience, procedures and check lists which don't match wilderness rescues very well. For example, she kept asking me, over and over again, for the street address or cross-streets for the museum. A lot of back and forth like that. I kept telling her that if I could talk to an SAR person, it would be better, but she said it did not work like that. I explained to her carefully where we were, and I am sure she took notes, but the words meant nothing to her, and I had my doubts about the transmittal of information. Finally, she said she had our coordinates from my cell phone. Since I don't have a smart phone with a GPS chip, I wondered how good they would be, but at some point we had to sign off and start the search, which we did.
To our amazement, a helicopter appeared in the sky about 15 minutes later. Began looping over Flat Rock and then looping down, roughly following the trail. A fire chief called from their base of operations, a parking lot at the lower tram station, so I was able to communicate with the helicopter through him, which helped a lot. Finally they located us, but the helicopter flew away. The fire chief said it was not prepared for a rescue, they needed to 'reconfigure', and another one would be back and carry out the rescue.
At that point, I decided to finish the hike. There was just about enough time to reach the tram before dark, and I had no assurance SAR would be taking me out. There was nothing I could do for Ward, and he seemed fine sitting and resting. With his permision, I took off. As I was approaching Flat Rock, my cell phone rang. It was a woman from the Riverside County Sheriff's Department. When she found out what I was doing, she was horrified. I was a very, very bad boy for leaving Ward, she ordered me to return, and assured me I would be choppered out. I was not sure she had the authority to promise that, but there was no mistaking her attitude and preferences. So I meekly followed orders and turned around.
Not long after I arrived back, another helicopter appeared in the sky. This one was supposed to have our coordinates from the first one, but it had much more difficulty finding us. Spent a lot of time far away, on the other side of Flat Rock and at tram station altitude. The fire chief called again, and we talked it down to us, with some difficulty.
I don't know a thing about flying, but I was impressed by how it maneuvered into position, on the side of a steep ridge. I had a brother-in-law who was a Marine helicopter pilot in Vietnam, and I remembered he and his friends telling me that helicopters were complicated and awkward machines, not easy to operate. The hoist went smoothly, and I was also impressed by our rescuers, who were very competent, professional, and matter-of-fact. But I can't say I enjoyed being the subject of a hoist. Below the helicopter everything is dominated by the noise and wind blast from the rotors. If you are ever in that situation, dress for the occasion, it is much colder and windier below the helicopter than a few yards away. You feel like a child, with someone shouting into your ear, and slipping you into a diaper-like harness. When I arrived at the helicopter, I was inclined to grab the doorway and stand on the struts, but their hand signals, shouts, and head shakes suggested they wanted me to remain passive until they had me in position to sit in the doorway.
They took us down to the parking lot at the lower tram station, where the paramedics whisked me into a van and started asking me questions. Then realized they had the wrong person and switched me for Ward. The diagnosis they gave him was that he was dehydrated and needed electrolytes. We both doubted that he was dehydrated, he had a CamelBak pack, plenty of water, and it was not a hot day. I suspect they are under some pressure to come up with something specific for their report.
This is the second time I have been on Skyline with someone in trouble, and it is an unsettling and disturbing experience. The first time I ran into someone who is well known to many people on this discussion board, has done Skyline scores of times, and led many groups up. But this day he had a real witch's brew of symptoms: weakness, dizziness, nausea, severe muscle cramps, and jaw pain. I don't know how it could be much worse without food poisoning or high altitude sickness. And even a medical ignoramus like myself knows that jaw pain is a scary symptom. We made it to Flat Rock, sat down, and had a serious discussion. He was inclined to descend, but I was very opposed. It was a 90 degree day in Palm Springs, I thought we could handle that, but I could not see descending from Flat Rock to the museum in a dizzy state. Too great a chance of a fall, which could be harmless, but could also result in a fracture or head injury. I was in favor of calling for rescue, and doing it there at Flat Rock, not higher up where it could be more difficult. But after about 20 minutes of discussion and rest, he decided he wanted to try to finish the hike, so up we went. Miraculously, he improved greatly, and we actually had a fairly good time the rest of the way. The next week he talked to his doctor, and they agreed that it was a recent change of medication.
In Ward's case, it is clear in retrospect that he should have turned around much earlier. But we all have the urge to power on through difficulties, and much of the time that turns out ok. I actually think it takes more self-discipline to turn around than continue. Here's to turning around, while you can! An SAR operation is an interesting experience, but I can assure you I don't want to repeat it. And it takes a lot of public-sector resources to correct our private mistakes.