Taking Communion with Orion
In winter, many of us rise well before dawn (or work the late shift) and take communion with Orion. But I should say that the hunter has not always been a welcome or warm figure in the avalanche world. When I see him, particularly in the eastern sky, there are two people that I often think about.
The first retired some years ago, after a career that spanned five decades in the avalanche game. In one of our last conversations, he looked thin, gaunt. I asked him if – under the stress of keeping others safe (even many people completely unaware that they were being kept safe) for nearly half a century – the very substance that had early on given him such great joy (powder snow!), now only brought fear and trepidation. He didn’t have to answer.
The second was a prodigy. Grew up at the ski area. Talented in the sciences, a phenomenal skier, could fix anything, talked less and listened more. Many of his last days, I saw him slumped over the wheel of the work truck, binoculars around his neck. He too carried the weight.
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Not long ago, I spoke with good friends Terry O’Connor, Laura McGladrey, and Paul Kalanithi* and they had some wonderful insights about resilience and longevity.
Terry is an ER doc by trade but moonlights as the medical director for SAR/Fire/EMS/LE, ski area, etc, etc. in Ketchum, Idaho. Laura is a nurse practitioner in emergency medicine and psychiatry and the founder of Responder Alliance. Paul was a neurosurgeon resident whose memoir When Breath Becomes Air – I have no other way to say this - will take your breath away. He died of cancer while working as chief resident at Stanford.
Those insights about resilience and longevity boiled down to three things:
Commitment. Openness. Spirituality.
Commitment.
Terry talks about public safety folks who refuse to just go through the motions even when they think** the odds are not good. He notes a Feb 2014 deep burial avalanche in Idaho where the victim was buried for 105 minutes and was recovered alive. I thought of Winslow Passey’s heart sinking last winter in the Wasatch as her avalanche probe indicated that the buried skier was beneath six feet of snow. (She saved his life).
Paul, the neurosurgeon, wrote “the pain of failure had led me to understand that technical excellence was a moral requirement. Good intentions were not enough; not when so much depended on my skills and so much was at stake.”
Openness.
Laura told me that honesty, openness, and agency were of great value. That, in many cases, outcomes were better for the providers, friends and family, when the providers were clear, honest, and compassionate with the friends and family and more so when the friends and family could watch and even assist in a medical or SAR event.
Spirituality.
Each of Terry, Laura, and Paul hinted at the word spirituality without actually saying it.
Not long ago, I wandered down to the chapel at Alta, affectionately known as Our Lady of the Snows. The place was empty and quiet....and yet.
La Virgén stood in the corner looking both sad and serene. I was filled with emotion. It’s not that I am religious....and yet.
There is something to be said about The Spirit, The Ritual, The Being Here Now moment.
Tomorrow morning I'll take communion with Orion once again.
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* No, Paul Kalanithi is not a friend.
** The long duration burial odds are not as bad as one might think. A Swiss study by Eidenbenz, Techel, and others last year...
This study focused on survival probability of completely buried avalanche victims with a long burial (≥60 min but <24 h). Based on the estimation of the avalanche survival probability curves described in 1994 and then updated, the survival probabilities of fully buried avalanche victims fall to about 21% at 60 min. This is followed by a plateau, with the curve remaining at about 21% between 60 and 180 min. The important survival rate of 19%, with two survivors with exceptional burial duration of 10 and 17 h, highlights the importance of pursuing search and rescue efforts, even in prolonged burials.
