There Is No Fine Line

Back in the days when we were backcountry skiing ("skimo" in modern parlance) 80 days per season, Doug and I had a saying "what would Karl do?" in reference to one of Canada's pre-eminent avalanche professionals. The thing about Karl was, as an older dude, he had survived a decades long career mountain guiding and forecasting and knew that a lifetime spent hard charging was likely to be a very short lifetime indeed.

Houston, we have a problem

I don't follow the Canadian avalanche scene any more, or, not at least in any serious degree. News of a fatality avalanche on Mount Hector in the Canadian Rockies in early January 2020 however, did reach me via the long, fibrillated and ubiquitous tendrils of social media which have made the concept of six degrees of separation more of a reality than ever before.

From CAA website showing burial location of LK

To my knowledge, there is no concise, objective or comprehensive review of this avalanche published, and it is questionable whether such a review would make much difference in any event¹. As I have written previously, I think most avalanche accidents are predominantly caused by a complex interplay of personalities, egos, and ambitions and not by misdiagnosing any particular weak layer or snowpack feature.

Unknown climber hanging it out over a huge cornice

There are incidents where people are spectacularly unaware of the hazard into which they have blithely skied, climbed, or even kayaked. A case in point is a recent kayak fatality in the bay where I live where a fisherman went out on a sit on top kayak in a gale and drowned literally five minutes from the marine rescue base having posted a video to his Facebook feed in the half hour leading to his death. I have paddled in gale warnings, and it can be done safely but this dude was clearly unaware of both the hazard and the risk of paddling out onto the ocean that day.

Kilo, the avi dog, working debris in the Nelson Range

At the other extreme, are the professional athletes who have a high degree of skill, training and knowledge and, most would agree, get caught simply because they are pushing the boundaries and spend an extraordinary amount of time in uncontrolled environments.

Old CAA photo showing location of "test pit" dug by recreational skier 

which caused the entire slope to release. Note the avi dog working in the foreground

But, by far, most accidents befall the middle range, the average person with the average skill, education and training, the weekend warrior and/or semi-professional (recognising that professional these days merely implies a healthy social media following and not a solid skill or expertise base). As Will Gadd writes, "it is the marginal situations that bite people;" the times when conditions are not completely shit, but not completely great either and deciding is difficult.

Avalanche in the Selkirk Mountains that caught one of my friends

This morning CBC radio aired a clip with AC, one of the survivors of the January 2020 avalanche on Mount Hector. This is the second time I have heard AC speak about the accident (the first time was on the Billy Yang podcast, you can listen yourself). Both audio segments make for harrowing listening. AC's despair is palpable, deep, almost unbearable as the victim in the avalanche was his wife. Not only was he in the invidious position of digging her out from beneath four metres of avalanche debris, but, the avalanche was triggered when he stepped forward a metre or so to watch his friend ski the slope.

CAA Photo of Jan 10, 2020 avalanche site

There are all sorts of factors involved in this avalanche. Skiing a big arse slope in early January when there are multiple buried persistent weak layers (PWL) is ballsy and no amount of mitigation, such as wearing avalanche air bags, skiing one at a time, or digging snow pits reduces the ballsy nature of skiing such a line. In fact, the avalanche bulletin for the day begins "Problems within the snowpack are complex and will likely persist for some time. There is great skiing, but now is the time for conservative decision making."

Another friend triggers a slab, watch the video here

Armchair commentating on this accident is all too easy. The statistics on PWL are well known, as is the preponderance of avalanche accidents that occur on days of "considerable hazard," and, it was probably the Karl Klassen himself who first coined the expression "when the question is stability, the answer is terrain."

Investigating a big crown on Whalesback in the Kootenays

I think, however, what I find most distressing about listening to AC revisit the avalanche is his repeated statements which imply that stepping forward one metre signals a hard and fast line between safety and sorrow. There is no such divider. If your line of safety is so fine that moving one ski stride forward to watch your friend ski the slope triggers what AC himself describes as "catastrophic" failure of the snowpack, there simply is no way to ski that slope safely. The fact that you plan to ski the slope one at a time and have identified "creek hazards" and a "nice exit onto the lower slopes" is all irrelevant. PWL's are unpredictable beasts who slumber long before suddenly awakening with a roar. Believing you can dance a fine line between safety and danger on such a slope in those conditions is simply folly.

1There is a brief report with images here.