Writing for Fun
January 2017
Ice Cold - Jan Osborne
The plan went wrong at the fork in the trail. It was to have been a relatively easy going day of hiking and climbing starting from our base camp a mile below the ravine.
It had been an hour since Colin and I had seen Tony and Dick through the blur of white that had whipped up just before we had started descending the south trail of Mt. Washington. We had split up into two groups so that each pair could go at its own pace. Colin and I had taken the most precipitous route whilst the other two took the gentler climb to our right. We planned to wait for each other at the junction of the trail near the ravine on the lower slopes.
We were all experienced climbers but either we had descended at a faster pace than we had anticipated or they were moving slower. Maybe both for we had reached the rendezvous first. It was now almost blizzard conditions and we strained our eyes staring bleakly upwards in the vain hopes of seeing the others.
In a few moments sweat on our skin had turned ice cold. If we stayed still it would not be long before frostbite set in. We waited as long as we could, fifteen minutes or more but no figures appeared through the snow storm. So we turned to the trail and being more certain of our shivering than our direction, went right at the fork and hurried to warm up.
Then I felt the ground flatten beneath my feet.
It was one of those seismic shifts of consciousness that drives your stomach up into your throat and triggers something primal in your brain. I knew suddenly and very clearly that I had walked onto the edge of a dangerously loaded snow bank and now we were in an avalanche. I tried to spike my ice pick into the mountain side to anchor myself but found no purchase; it was much too late for that.
Through the thunderous roaring the avalanche slammed into me like an express train. Then I was in the air being tossed about like a discarded rag doll. All I could see was a beautiful, cool, whiteness no matter which way I was turned in this strange third dimension but soon reality savagely insinuated itself as ice, rocks and mountainside tore at me.
Then the white went black along with the rest of the world . . .
Dreamscapes of my life floated past until memories of today insinuated their way to the forefront of my consciousness.
We had set out from our camp in high spirits. Four lads on an adventure, a straightforward hike along a well trodden trail to where it forked to give two different ascent routes up the snow covered mountain. I remembered snapping a picture of the Forest Service’s warning about avalanches. One more shot to remember the trip by, but not relevant to us. Our ascent was an easier route and the posted avalanche danger for our way was low for the day.
Colin and I had travelled quickly over the well trodden snow. Our packs were light with just clothing, food and water but Tony and Dick were loaded down with overnight gear as they planned to stay a few days on the mountain, so their progress was slower.
By about one o’ clock Colin and I had reached the summit but stayed only long enough to take a few snaps. As it had already started to snow on our way up we knew it would be suicide to be on the mountain in these conditions once night had begun to fall so we began our descent without delay.
On the way back down we crossed paths with Tony and Dick and because of the deterioration in the weather we had all decided to descend, agreeing to meet at the fork in the trail near base camp . . .
I woke up on top of the snow. I could see. I was alive! My last thoughts before losing consciousness were that I would die or be entombed in the snow. As some feeling returned to my frozen body I knew I had broken my left arm as I could not move it and it lay at a strange angle. The rest of my body hurt but I still could not tell how badly, the adrenaline was pumping hard. I tried to sit up and blood started oozing down my face. I decided it was better to lie back down.
It was surreal; it was like lying in a huge kiddie’s snow globe but not warm and cosy. Peering frantically I could see no sign of Colin. I could see my boot sticking out of the snow, knocked clean off by the force of the impact.
I lay there for maybe fifteen minutes weighing my options and trying to stay calm, then the crunch of snow under boots brought me back. There was Colin, well enough to walk, climbing down to me. Later I found out his leg had caught on a rock and he had landed on a higher ledge.
As he came closer I could see his face, a cluster of purple bruises. He considered me for a moment, blood dripping from his forehead down to his jacket.
‘Who are you?’ he asked.
My hopes of a quick rescue were dashed. As a paramedic I guessed he must be suffering from concussion. I calmly told him we were good friends who had been climbing the mountain all day and had been caught in an avalanche. I also knew that as long as he did not fall asleep out here in the snow any time soon he was likely to be fine if a little frustrating to deal with.
As for my own condition between the arm that I was sure was broken and not being able to feel or move my legs I knew I was badly injured but not beyond repair.
However, there was a voice, very soft, in the back of my brain telling me that I really could not tell how badly I had been hurt, that perhaps no one would find us and that if I had not been so cock sure about the ‘low avalanche risk’ I would not have been in this predicament with Colin in the first place. I sighed and we did the only thing we could do, consolidate our food and water and wait.
It was not long before I could hear Tony’s voice cutting through the wind. It was the best sound I had ever heard in my life.
‘We’re getting help,’ he promised from somewhere up in the white. ‘Hang on there.’
As I yelled back I smiled. We did not have any choice in the matter.
Five long cold hours later I saw the lights of a snow cat. I cannot remember now if I was laughing as they slid me onto a backboard but if I was not it seems to me as if I should have been.