Man left behind
By Dave Ezell
We had just
pulled off an extensive all night evacuation of
Lloyd Allen in the wilderness near Powder Box
Spring. The troops were arriving home when we got
another callout. The story was a man missing on
the North Face. Having just come off the mountain
we knew he was to await his ordeal through the
pending storm that had seized the mountain the
previous evening. Little did we know that we were
about engage ourselves in only Part I of
"the Missing Person Syndrome." (See
other article - North Face Search).
As the tired
troops moved their way back toward the mountain
late in the day, Landells Aviation was being
dispatched to the summit to take a glance through
the storm blanket to locate the missing person
Winfred Blevins. A team comprised of RMRU members
and Hemet Search and Rescue Team members were
deployed to the mountain tramway station to begin
their search at first light. Because of heavy
cloud cover, strong winds and darkness Don
Landells had to call off his search. The
remaining available members met at 5:30 A.M. the
following morning at the Snow Creek helispot for
airlift to the peak. By this time the weather had
cleared and I felt it would be the typical
helicopter search and recover operation.
The search and
recovery was as expected but the circumstances of
the search turned out to be atypical. As it turns
out our lost person was left by his climbing team
to trek the last 1,000 feet to the summit solo.
(He was traveling at a slower rate than his
companions, Hooman Aprin and Vickie Mayfield.)
There were
some forcing circumstances that added up to a
near miss tragedy though. Blevins claimed later
that during his approach he became very fatigued
and extremely sleepy; a storm was approaching;
his climbing partners left him behind; and the
wind speed was estimated to be well over 40
m.p.h. To add device to misery Blevins sleeping
bag was swept away in a strong gust just as he
was preparing to bivouac in the wake of the
approaching twilight holocaust - this began his
first night without a bag.
In the
meantime his climbing partners atop the mountain
climbed into their bags out of the wind and fell
fast asleep. Upon awakening early in the morning
and discovering that Blevins wasn't there they
concluded that he must have passed them and
blitzed to the tramway ahead of them. So, being
cold, they decided to be on the first "down
car," but to their "astonishment"
Blevins was not to be found at the parking lot.
Thus they began a day long wait for his imminent
return. As the day lengthened the couple began to
wonder if indeed their lone partner was to be
imminent prior to dusk. A call to the Long Valley
Ranger Station was all that was necessary to
activate a rescue call through the Banning
Sheriff's Station. What, you left who behind? How
many hours ago?
The next
morning six RMRU members were air lifted to the
peak. Jim Fairchild, Pete Carlson, Walt Walker
and Kevin Walker were on top and Brian Hixson and
myself were the last team to board. Hal Fulkman
rode as observer. As Don Landells moved us slowly
up the desert ridges we all hoped that Blevins
had indeed reached the summit before the storm
had peaked because the fresh flocking showed
those portentous signs of that incessant
phenomena that snow crystals relinquish to
gravity.
Don flew this
flight in slower as we scanned the slopes. As we
reached the top the bird was getting hit with
severe blasts of wind. Snow crystals blown off
the peak in large plumes were striking against
the cleared blue sky. Because of the strong winds
near the peak Don decided to swing out further
than before and we banked out over Little Round
Valley. As we passed over I caught a glimpse of
fresh tracks crossing the meadow and exclaimed,
"There's his tracks - down there in the
meadow." Hixson and I were dropped off on
the peak and Don and Hal flew back for a closer
look. Sure enough, Blevins hobbled out of a grove
of trees and waved to the ship.
The conditions
by this time (approx. 7 A.M.) were extreme in
exposed areas. The temperature was exactly 9°F. and the wind was as high as 60
m.p.h. It was time to draw the storm hoods closed
and peep through glacier goggles for the
remainder of our stay - wind chill being nearly
40 below.
Don landed the ship in eloquent
fashion in the squirrelly winds on a nearby knoll
and Hal motioned Blevins to the bird, got him in,
and they flew back to base. Hal began an
immediate verbal survey and detected a lot of
ambiguity in Blevins responses. Blevins felt
extremely confident about his condition, his
abilities as a mountaineer, and expressed
disconcern about the need for rescue. He claimed
that he knew right where he was and that he was
headed for the Tramway. He was confident that he
was nearing Long Valley because of the increased
number of footprints he was crossing. Fulkman
quickly pointed out that the prints he was
crossing were indeed his own and that he had been
walking in circles and in addition he was walking
away from the Tram (180° west). Blevins admitted later that
he firmly believed in following his own sense of
direction without the aid of map or compass.
Hal began
having doubts about the true condition that
Blevins was in even though Blevins kept assuring
him that he was fine. Hal began probing deeper
and when he asked Blevins about his fingers and
toes the response came back "I can wiggle my
toes fine." After arriving at base camp Hal
insisted that Blevins toes be examined. Blevins
consented with, "OK, if itll ease your
mind." After a lengthy struggle to remove a
boot with the help of Captain Canova's biceps it
was a Medivac to the hospital Code 3. Blevins had
solidly frozen feet as well as frozen finger
tips.
This was another excellent example
of intuitive examining demonstrated by a
conscientious member. If Hal had only listened to
Blevins' constant assurance, definitive treatment
and prevention of true tissue loss would not have
been realized. More importantly from all of this
was a great lesson for me as an observer. As the
saying goes, "Believe the signs and the
symptoms, not the person," cannot be
overemphasized. How often do we read of accounts
of mountaineering tragedies where the apologetic
person becomes the victim because of masquerading
symptoms. In the words of Jim Fairchild,
"Blevins is a classic example of the victim
who claims he's OK and then dies an hour after
you've turned your back!" It was speculated
by some of the veteran members that Blevins
indeed was a lucky man and that he probably did
not have much life left in him at the time of his
rescue even though he appeared to be alert.
Blevins was admitted to the Desert Hospital in
Palm Springs for treatment of frostbite by 9:00
A.M. that morning and released nearly two weeks
later. According to Hal Fulkman the miraculous
saving of tissue in Blevins recovery was due to a
fast and effective rescue and immediate
transportation to the hospital without delay or
subsequent trauma to the frozen feet.
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