"One thing you can say about this job; it is never the same two days in a row."
"Not again. Another lost snowshoer? Why can't they stay on the trail?"
"Great day for it huh? We're going to have a blizzard soon."
Those were some of the grumblings coming from the eight rangers suiting up to go on a rescue. This was the third time in the last week that someone wandered off a trail. Even good snowshoers or cross-country skiers had enough difficulty on some on the tougher trails but many of them are neophytes who decide they will strike out on their own and that makes it especially perilous, not just for the hiker but for the crew as well. Cell-phone service is pretty good so normally someone lost can call the ranger office and give the location but people end up losing phones or the batteries go dead and then it becomes a treasure hunt, sometimes with few clues. This time, the couple and their young daughter were supposed to be back to the checkpoint at 11 and it was now two so everyone prepared to go out and hopefully find them in the next three hours or so, before it got dark.
The team was led by Mike Christopher, a fifteen year veteran of the park service. He'd been at the same park for the entire period and had gone on hundreds of similar searches. He was a throwback. Most other rangers had either moved to other jobs, left the service, gotten killed or disabled or simply wore themselves out with the physical and emotional demands of the job. Early in his career, Mike was seen as a rising star and, with a law degree and quiet leadership skills, everyone figured he would either become the first African-American to lead the service or get a job as an executive somewhere. Nine years after joining the service, the director, after years of persistence, persuaded him to move into a management role, creating a job of setting up training programs and doing research on improving mountain rescue efforts.
Two years into that job his wife and two kids were killed in an auto accident. Once that happened, he left the service for a long period. Once he did come back, he insisted on being a forest ranger, in the same job he'd had before his promotion. During his free time from the service, he worked on a contract basis in maintenance for a ski resort. And in the summer, he took "vacation" time and worked with the forestry service in aviation fire management, flying helicopters to transport firefighters.
At 46, he was still young but many questioned how long he could keep up with this very grueling work. They may be out for 10 hours at the time in the winter and 12-14 in the summer - as long as there was any daylight and even sometimes during darkness. Besides the incredible bravery, one's stamina had to be Herculean and the work requires alertness and sometimes very quick reactions. It was a young person's game, not someone middle-aged. But, no one could ever quarrel with the way Mike kept in shape. He could outlast everyone that worked for him and his long hours never seemed to make him anything less than fresh and alert. Also his leadership skills were legendary. He would only work with the best and once they survived the screening, testing and rigorous training he put them through, they would follow him anywhere and do anything; that was probably because he was always out-front and never put them in a position that he didn't lead them into.
The only way Mike betrayed his 46 years was his face. It looked like it was chiseled out of black granite and was the kind of face you'd expect of someone that spent most of his life outdoors. He could have been considered handsome except for his nose that was twisted and knobby from having it broken twice. His body, though, could be that of a man in his early 20s. That is, of course, if you didn't see how he moved when he first got up in the morning. You certainly wouldn't see any limps or creaky moves when anyone else was around.
"Okay, soon time to go. Everyone check a buddy's pack and then I will check them all. Remember, we have a youngster so we need to take extra blankets and a harness that can fit someone around around three years old. We have no idea what shape these people will be in so pay particular attention to the medical kit. I want five of everything...three for them if needed and a couple for us if one of you clowns get hurt."
"How about you, Big M, you may get hurt. It is possible you know," one of the crew said laughingly.
"No it's not," Mike replied, "because if I do, I know the rest of you will wander around the mountain until someone will have to rescue you. Now, let's get moving. We're burning daylight soon. We'll go as far as we can on the Cats and then we'll split up into Able and Baker teams to off-trail. Hurry and check the gear, get it packed and then gather round for detail prep."
They were off in another ten minutes. There were three people missing - a couple and a child of about three. They were supposed to be gone for three hours, with the father carrying the kid on a back rack. These mountains are treacherous and one misstep can be calamitous. Mike had been trying unsuccessfully to get the rules changed to keep kids that young off the snowshoeing trails. So, the best they could do is try to rescue them when something bad happened. He was particularly concerned about this one because of the kid and also because the temperature had dropped precipitously and he felt they may not be able to survive a night with no protection. He had no idea how well equipped they were as well.
They went as far as they could on the snowmobiles but after 45 minutes realized that they would probably have to search some of the side trails that winter hikers weren't supposed to use. The problem was that there were a number of them and it was snowing so there were no discernible tracks. They were just going to go one by one. Mike figured that they would probably have gone only a few hundred yard up any trail so they would only search a certain distance out and then move on to the next trail. He wanted four people on each team because there were three people lost and because many of these trails were very dangerous and they may end up having to rescue their own.
It was almost dusk dark and Mike was ten minutes away from calling the search off for the evening. The weather was much worse; the wind was howling and the snow was heavier than ever. Due to the noise of the storm, they didn't have a chance to hear anything through the heavy coverings around their heads. So if any recovery were going to be done, it would have to result from seeing something rather that being able to detect it otherwise.
Mike radioed the other team and told them they were heading back to the station and would give it another try tomorrow at daylight. It was already dark enough that they had to turn on their lamps to light the way. Just as they were leaving, one of the men shouted, "hang on a second. Look at this, where the branches are broken. They may have slipped off here."
The trail at that point was only a few feet wide. The bushes in this section were dense but it looked like something had leaned or crashed into it, but it could have been an animal. If it were humans the drop-off from the trail was pretty steep and the chances of surviving such a fall would be pretty small.
Mike directed one of the crew to blow the air horn to see if there was any reaction. He wasn't sure how much anyone could hear in with the roar of the wind but it might have been worth a try. The lights were also bright and could be seen for miles for a long way in open terrain in fair weather but it was doubtful that it penetrated the driving snow and encroaching darkness.
Mike was about to give it up, figuring that it was unlikely that three people would have fallen down a ravine; it must have been an animal or maybe there were all just seeing things.
