Respect for mountain rescue teams now even greater
The group of rescuers walk in to the 'avalanche site' with rescue gear in and on their rucksacks.
The massive amount of snow we have enjoyed (or endured) this winter has been a real bonus for outdoor enthusiasts like myself.
It has meant the chance to test out winter skills in the mountains, try out new routes and see the Highlands in a whole new light.
But the extra snowfall has also brought an increased risk of avalanches in the mountains.
The Scottish Avalanche Information Service (SAIS) confirmed to me that it has witnessed more avalanche activity than in any recent year.
“There’s no doubt there have been more avalanches reported this year,” said Mark Diggins, co-ordinator for SAIS.
“It has been a very unusual winter. The type of snow has created a snowpack which is more unstable than we usually get in this country. Over the Christmas period it was really quite strange – more like Canada or the Alps than Scotland.
“We have people who have worked in this field for over 20 years and they haven’t seen snow crystals like the ones we’ve had this winter.”
When this unstable snow does avalanche, its power is immense. You just need to ask the volunteers from the country’s mountain rescue teams (MRTs).
I got the chance to do just that recently when I spent a day in the hills with three volunteer rescuers as part of the annual Glen Affric walking festival, WinterFest.
As we tested the snowpack on our walk in towards Toll Creagach, we felt the weight of just a small slab of compacted snow. Checking the condition of the snow is the first test on the way to any winter rescue, and we tried cutting a block with our ice axes and pulling it to see how easily it would slide.
I cut a chest-sized block and was amazed at how heavy this relatively tiny block of snow and ice was. I wouldn’t fancy a hillside of this speeding towards me.
John with half the mountain rescue stretcher attached to his rucksack, ready for the walk back out.
We were on our way to an avalanche rescue exercise, and were ready to learn the basics of what the MRT members must be prepared to do at the drop of a hat whenever they get a call that somebody is in trouble in the mountains.
The first thing I noticed as we prepared for our trip into the unknown was the amount of gear you need – or, I should say, you might need, and therefore you take anyway.
I’m not a light packer at the best of times – I was in the Scouts as a youngster so have it ingrained into me to “Be Prepared” – but this is something else.
Not only do the MRT members need all the usual winter mountain gear to keep themselves warm, fed and watered, they also carry group emergency shelters, blizzard bags, flares, avalanche probes, climbing gear, shovels and, of course, a stretcher.
In our group of 15 eager rescuers-for-the-day, we spread all this gear between us and headed for the hills.
The three experts leading us and sharing their knowledge were all MRT volunteers. Chris Wilson is a Torridon MRT member, while Jonah Jones and Tony Hanly both volunteer for the Skye team. Tony is also a mountain rescue dog handler for the Search and Rescue Dog Association (SARDA) and he brought along his lovely border collie, the aptly named Cuillin.
It’s the dog who goes into the area first, searching around the avalanche debris trying to pick up any scent of human life. Tony sent her into our exercise area, where the team had buried rucksacks and tracker devices under the snow the previous night.
She came up trumps, finding the first rucksack quickly. SARDA has 26 dogs to cover the whole of Scotland from Peebles up to the Highlands. The dogs are trained specifically for the purpose from pups and are rigorously tested before qualifying as a rescue dog. They are used in all kinds of emergencies, not just in mountain rescue.
Once the dog handler is happy that they have found all they can, it’s up to the MRT members to continue the search. There are procedures which must be followed in the chaos of any rescue when time is of the essence, and the next step is to probe the site. We stand in a line, each with an avalanche probe – a metal rod – which we push deep into the snow to check if there is anything, or anyone, trapped below the surface. A group of people with shovels wait behind, ready to dig if anyone calls a “strike” to say they have hit something unusual.
The thought of doing this for real in terrible weather conditions is incredible. The chances of survival if you do get buried in avalanche debris are fairly minimal. Chris tells us that 80 to 90 per cent of those found within the first seven minutes survive, while 80 per cent of those who die in an avalanche are found after many hours being trapped under the snow, when the rescue teams arrive.
Johan Jones is uncovered by our group of rescuers after 'volunteering' to act as our casualty buried under the snow.
As he recalls the stats, it’s a sobering thought for us all. By the time the MRT arrive, it can be just a matter of “bagging and tagging” as the members soberly put it.
We get plenty of avalanches in Scotland every year. The unusual snow we have had this year is one thing, but windslab avalanches are a common occurrence. Last year SAIS recorded 112, 22 of which were either triggered by or involved people. This year has been more extreme, but they are by no means a rare occurrence in the Scottish mountains.
Chris strongly suggests to our group that anyone who goes out walking in the winter should get a tracker device. This gadget attaches to your body with a strap (rucksacks can easily be torn off in an avalanche) and emits a signal which can be received by other similar devices. They are common in the Alps but not on our shores.
The advantage is that if you do get caught in an avalanche, other climbers in your group or nearby have a chance of locating you under the snow within that vital seven-minute period.
Our newly-learnt skills were soon put to the test as Jonah kindly “volunteered” to be buried under the snow, out of site of our group. We went on the search, using Cuillin to sniff out his scent, which she managed in no time at all.
Then it was all hands on deck – digging down into the snow, first checking that airways were clear then digging out our stand-in casualty. Meanwhile, my job was to help dig out a level-ish platform to bring in the rescue stretcher alongside Jonah. It then took around 10 of us to lift him onto the stretcher and we wrapped him in an emergency blanket.
The next task was a real eye-opener. We took hold of the stretcher and carried him around 100metres down the uneven hillside. Even with eight of us taking the weight, this was no easy task and it reminded me of John Allen’s book, Cairngorm John, in which the former Cairngorm MRT leader talks about having teams of eight people carrying casualties off the mountains for miles in 100mph winds.
Thankfully, not all rescues are that dramatic and it strikes me that there’s a real sense of humour among the MRT volunteers. I imagine they need it with some of the work they do.
