Avalanche

A letter to the Pebble Creek Community.

Written December 29, 2024

The crown of the avalanche that carried me today.

Today I was in an avalanche. I was caught and carried. Actually, it happened twice.

For the past 16 years I have volunteered as a ski patroller at Pebble Creek Ski Area, and for ten of those years I have been a member of the snow safety team. When you read “snow safety team” I am not sure what comes to your mind, maybe something like a school crossing guard. What it really means is that I, and a tight knit group of patrollers, put ourselves in the most dangerous avalanche conditions and we use various methods to attempt to reduce the avalanche hazard. We often use explosives, which is as exciting as you imagine. We also quite literally put our physical body into the avalanche path using a technique called ski cutting.

Ski cutting is probably the most dangerous thing that I do. The goal with ski cutting is to ski in to the area that is expected to avalanche and use your body as the trigger to set off the slide. Typically the slopes and areas that we consider for ski cutting are smaller and for one reason or another have lower consequences. We also primarily use this technique for soft slab, storm slabs or shallow slab conditions. These techniques, refined over years of observation, trial and error, generally help us know what areas are the best spots to ski into or over to trigger an avalanche in a way that doesn’t put us in significant danger of being caught and carried. In my mind the ideal ski cut happens when, as you cross the slope, the avalanche is triggered just below your skis with the slab (body of the avalanche) sliding away from your relatively safe spot. Momentum is also a useful tool, and what might save you from getting caught, carried and or buried, if you can carry enough speed to ski off the edge of the slide before it gets moving too fast. Sometimes we refer to these skills as the dark arts. We don’t talk about how we do it openly in public very often, better to protect the secrets of the craft from those not committed to a life of mitigating risk for others or for those unaware of the very real and serious consequences of avalanches. And while we do not speak in public about the dark arts, we are faithful practitioners of them. We discuss them amongst ourselves as we try to improve our skills while simultaneously try to reduce our risk.

The slide that carried my partner today.

Back to today. After our typical avalanche control routes (a multiple stop ski tour of the upper mountain that involves placing several explosives to create avalanches), and after ski cutting one of the most prominent in bound avalanche hazards at Pebble Creek (The Rock), myself and one of my snow safety team colleagues set out to check for other isolated pockets of hazard. Our intention was to ski cut those smaller pockets and reduce the risk to the unknowing skier. On the north side of the ski area, after discussion the plan with my partner, I skied into a pocket that seemed primed to move. My partner had eyes on me, ready to respond as needed to rescue me, and I skied into the pocket. In the first few feet nothing happened, I adjusted my trajectory, gave a little hop to weight the slope, and the whole slope around me fractured like a broken pane of glass. I yelled “avalanche” as the fractured slope started to move downhill. Fortunately I stayed on my feet and was able to ski at a 45 degree angle to the edge of the siding slope and out of the avalanche as it continued on down the hill another 150 yards or so. All said and done the avalanche carried me downhill about 10 feet or so in the time it took me to cover about 50 feet to get out of it. Wide eyed, I looked at Mike, muttered a “holy shit”, and then called in to the hill captain that there had been an avalanche and that we were clear and there was no public involvement. We then traversed along the same slope aspect continuing to trigger small slabs as we descended back to the base area. With less than a few moments to shake off the adrenaline from the ride, we went straight back to work at reducing the hazard for the guests on the mountain.

We took another lap in that same area to make sure we had effectively reduced the hazard, during which we also showed several other patrollers the results of the ski cutting and shared what we were learning about the current conditions with them before we set off for another area of the mountain to mitigate more terrain. The next area that we worked is still closed to public, and we entered it on high alert. Almost immediately we were getting results that were bigger than expected. The first area we cut broke away with a 3 foot crown, and slid as far as we had ever seen it go. The second area I cut first with nothing moving, then observing from a safe spot I watched my partner ski into and trigger a large slide, with him in the very center of it. As the slab gathered momentum I yelled “avalanche” and he carried his speed off to the flank of this slide. He was carried about 25 feet before getting off of the slab, which covered a total distance of about 150 feet. Overall, a relatively small avalanche, but enough to seriously hurt a skier. We had two more areas to cut, them most hazardous of the route still remaining. We were shaken, but also calm and focused. The next one slid as expected, but our nerves were high with the largest hazard still in play. Fortunately, the last zone had gone naturally before we arrived and only required a small amount of clean up.

Under most circumstances I wouldn’t be writing about this event or sharing much about it other than sharing the risk we perceived for the day and conditions. The reason I am sharing is because of a cultural problem we have at Pebble Creek. For as long as I can remember the public has blatantly ignored closed areas and regularly duck ropes. We see parents taking kids into closed terrain, and closed areas will get heavily trafficked despite considerable risk. A fellow patroller was berated by a guest for trying to enforce the closure. We hear retorts of “we’ve always ducked ropes” or “we don’t have avalanches at Pebble Creek”. This behavior has to stop. As member of the snow safety team, I see, and do the work to try and make the ski area as safe as possible for guests. When we close terrain it is because it is not safe. Not safe, for the skiers and not safe for patrollers to perform a rescue without significant risk. It is closed because it is not safe for all. An individual rider could get lucky and ski through the closed terrain without an incident, but it isn’t about one person. It isn’t about you, it’s about us. We are committed to providing a safe experience, so committed that we are putting our own lives on the line to reduce risk. This year decision has been made to revoke skiing privileges for skiers that duck ropes in to closed areas, something that is the standard action at every ski area around us and across the country. We are not doing this to be assholes. We are doing it to try and keep people safe.

I am writing this after a very long day on the mountain. I am very tired. I and can hear the snow and rain pelting my window and the wind ripping through the trees. I sigh, knowing that I’ll be driving to the mountain in the dark at 5:00 am again in the morning. I’ll again be stepping into dangerous conditions and tonight the thought of that has me on edge. The idea of risking my life in the dark hours of the morning and then to get berated by a guest for not opening the mountain fast enough or not having their favorite run open yet doesn’t sit well with me. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the work. I love being able to serve my community of snow loving humans. I find profound joy in constantly trying to improve my knowledge and skills that can be used to protect and serve my community, my friends and my family on the mountain. I am pleading with you, the Pebble Creek Community, to take a moment and consider your behavior regarding the terrain, both open and especially the closed, at Pebble Creek. Please look at yourself and your actions, think about how those actions impact the whole mountain community and sincerely ask you to do better.

Sincerely,

Luke

ps thank a ski patroller next time you see one, they need to hear it.

Pebble Creek Ski Patrollers, today just before closing sweep.