East Angle Avi

East Angle Avalanche
East Angle Mt, Togwotee Pass, Absaroka Range
December 8th, 2007

Click on picture to enlarge.

This photo is from a trip a I did a couple of years ago. I don't have pictures of this mountain today because my camera and I got buried on it in an Avalanche. The drawings on the photo indicate what happened to me, today; on this mountain. I've been through some scary stuff in my life so far... this was the closest I think I've been to dying. Not too many words for it. Here's the story...

Chuck hadn't been skiing yet this year and it'd been a couple of weeks for me- so we decided we'd better get out. It snowed pretty heavy in Lander the night before and the roads to Togwotee weren't that good. We decided rather than bring snow machines for this trip, that we'd just take my subaru and go somewhere off the road. Skies were clearing when we went over Togwotee. It was cold, but quickly turning blue bird. We decided we'd better take a stab at East Angle Mountain again.

Last year in January we triggered a good avalanche on East angle, while skinning up. Due to our route selection though, we came out of that one unscathed. Today the snow pack was very different. For one, it really wasn't that deep. Two or three feet in the deep spots- one a foot in some places. There were some skiers ahead of us, folks from Riverton and Jackson, I knew the guys from Riverton. We followed their skin track in for a while. When we reached to bottom of the big slide path, conditions were looking good, so we decided to pursue our own route more directly up the mountain- next to the slidepath. Since we were thinking about skiing it, I thought It'd make more sense to go up next to it, so we could assess it on the way up.

Skinning up went fine. Occasionally in pockets, or where the snow was shallow, we'd get some light woomping and cracking. Some of the skiers ahead of us reported some heavier woomfing on the other side of the gully. We dismissed their warning though, especially after following their skin track to where they crossed the slide path gully in a terrible risky place. We continued up. All along the way I did pole tests and hasty pits. There was a week layer near the ground, but it didn't seem to do much- especially in deeper snow.

Once near the summit we boot packed up the side of the gully/ slide path that was more exposed to the wind. I felt pretty safe on that side, since it really didn't have much snow on it. When we reached the summit, we discussed digging a pit, but really the snow up top wasn't anything like most of what we'd be boarding on. We did notice a smaller recent avi on a similar aspect- just a pocket though. Dismissed it. Why? Dunno. Dumb. I decided to board up and try a some other quick tests on our way down.

Once to the start of big loading zone and what looked like awesome snow, I pulled up. I assessed the slope and bounced it a little. Nothing happened. I figured I'd try a ski cut. I looked for a safe spot on the other side of the gully and then went for it. I hucked off a three or four foot cornice on the slope with thud and then slid across the gully. Nothing. I figured it was pretty solid if my thud didn't bust anything loose. So, after that, I went for it. Carved in a bunch of really nice turns. Things were feeling solid, so I pulled up at the base of top part of wind load zone and told Chuck to go for it. This was probably my biggest mistake. I should have found a safer spot and/or continued down while Chuck could spot me.

Chuck made some great turns down to me, and then threw in a big stop. Seconds later... KAWOOMPF! The the whole mountain was going. Chuck said, "Oh shit!". I thought the same thing. At first we stayed on our boards and had some control. Chuck was slightly below me and both of us were making our way skier's left out of the main slide path. It pick up speed though. I could feel my board suck me under. I thought, "Shit I better get it off." I yelled to Chuck, "Pop your board off!" After that things went faster. I remember things were serious when I let my camera go. I was upside down tumbling and sucking in gobs of snow. I remember spitting out snow balls, thinking, "Hell, I'm gone get buried! Just like in the books." Some how one of my bindings popped open. Both of my gloves were off. I reached down and un-hooked my other binding. Then I got caught in the main flow again and started moving faster. I remember seeing a choke and steep rollover coming and huge debri pile forming at the end of it. Things were slowing, but I thought for sure if I went over the roll over, I'd be buried deep. I started lunging for and grabbing for trees. The moving snow was like concrete though, it just plowed me over and past trees. I remember hitting the rollover. I was upright, but snow was all around me, then I went straight down. As things slowed I punched up the snow with my left hand. I came to a stop. My hand was above the snow. I immediately started wiggling it in a circle trying to create a breathing hole for my face. It worked.

My next thought was about getting unburried before a hang-fire slide or more debri came down. It wouldn't take much at all to completely cover my air hole and bury me now. All of my limbs were stuck and frozen- like they were set up in concrete- except for my one free hand. Thank god! With one free bare hand I started digging our my other arm. When I finally got it dug out, both of my hands were freezing- couldn't feel them. Something felt wrong with my ribs- I kept digging. When it became more apparent that I might get myself out, my thought turned to Chuck. The last time I saw him he was below me. I thought for sure he was buried deep in the debri pile below me. I worked harder to free myslef. It felt like it was taking for ever- the only thing I could think about was Chuck. How could I ever go skiing or boarding again if he died. My judgement might have killed him. How could I even ride a bike if Chuck died because I couldn't find him or get him out of this avi. Jesus! It'd be tough to live with that on my shoulders.

I had to use my shovel to dig my legs out. One of them was pretty sore- but it worked. I was free. I climbed out of my hole and yanked off my tranciever. I switched it to search, something I'd never ever wanted to do for real. I got my probe out, grabbed my shovel and started stubbling down, zig-zag fashion over the debri pile. Then I realized I needed my pack. The debri zone was huge, if I did find Chuck, I might need stuff in my pack. Everything I needed to survive was in my pack. I climbed back up and got it.

Then I held my tranciever close to the snow and started work my way down again. Nothing. Terrible images and thoughts crossed my mind. Things seemed like they were taking forever. I shoved the terrible thoughts aside and focused on the search. Then I heard someone yelling above me. I looked up and I immediately recognized the coat. It was Chuck! We was alive and moving and above me, looking for me. A weight much heavier than the snow that burried me was lifted. I sat down. Tears came to my eyes. My wife, my kids... yikes! I might see them again. Chuck might see his wife again. Overwhelming.

When Chuck reached me, his head was all bloodied up. Though Chuck rarely uses his, both of us were wearing our helmets. Damned good thing too. They took a beating. Chuck had a gash above his eye that was bleeding and needed stitches, but he could see. Can't imagine what he might have endured without his helmet. My left thigh hurt and my left ribs didn't feel right. It wasn't too easy for me to get around, and it was getting worse. I needed to get back to the car. We were a ways from it still.

A couple of snowmachiners came wandering up to the base of the slide. We flagged them down and they were kind enough to give us a ride back to our my car. I was so thankful for a that- it probably save us near two hours or more. Reason # 100 they should keep the pass open to snow machines.

Once at the car, we loaded up and headed back towards Lander. I finally stopped shaking from shock, adrenaline etc about halfway back. We went to my house first then to the emergency room at the hospital. Chuck needed stitches and I needed to get my ribs and innards x-rayed. They hurt and didn't feel right. I was worried about internal damage. Turns out I was fine though. No breaks, or ruptured spleens. Just a lot aches pains and bruises. Chuck came out of it worse than I. He looked like he'd been in a boxing match. They sewed up his gash. Other than that a sprained ankle and alot of bumps and bruises. He lived. We both lived. We're both damned lucky!

I feel stupid. I've had tons (level 3) of avi training, yet I assumed some risks without really gathering as many facts as I could. Why? Why? Because the run looked awesome? Maybe. I got powder fever. I skied other similar runs this a year already without thinking much. How could this be different? Then, two of us in a run out zone at the same time? Why did I make that mistake. So I could get a photo? Something I've done before and got away with. Dumb. I know better.

It's late, I'm sore, I still haven't cleaned up. I'm afraid to go to sleep tonight. The thoughts that raced through my head were scary. Yesterday we just found out our second kiddo will be a boy. Today I was burried over my head in snow, struggling like mad man to create a breathing hole for myself- and praying like hell that no more snow would slide and cover it. I was thinking how fair is it for Chuck to have to bring news like this to my wife. Then I was thinking- cripes what if I make it, what if I can't find Chuck though- can I live with that? How can I ever do the things I love again? I'm so thankful we both made it.

I will ski again. No doubt. Might be a spell before I try East Angle, but I'll ski again. I'll ride another day- it's in my bones. I'm not sure how fair it is we survived today, but I'm thankful. I will learn from this experience. I doubt I can ever afford to make these kinds of mistakes again. A guy can't live through that too many times. I'm lucky, damned lucky.