From: Sequoia and Kings Canyon News Releases

Quite a story. In addition to her own heroic self rescue effort, Her first responders must have done a truly fine job. Any recovery from that level of hypothermia is not easy in the field.

A real and all too common challenge for SAR/EMS crews: The patient who is incoherent to the point of obviously needing assistance but just coherent enough to be able to refuse.

Thanks for posting, Steve: you know I am looking closely at beta on my HST itinerary, especially at creek crossings west of Kaweah Gap. SEKI has been warning of treacherous snow bridge crossings. Wonder if there are any creeks this size in the Whitney area that might pose similar conditions? Wallace, Tyndall?

Yes, there are quite a few all around. Just look for conditions.

Several years ago I was descending the Whitney Trail about this time of year, solo. After passing Trailside Meadow, there is an opportunity to glissade the steep slope down to Mirror Lake. I have done that quite a few times, and decided to this time in spite of the snow being soft and melting fast. There was a good sized stream under the snow now.

About halfway down there is a rimaye (similar to a crevasse or bergschrund, but with snow on only one side and rock on the other) a few inches wide. Gravity pulls you toward it, and I was using my ice ax to try to steer around it. Unfortunately, I got too close and the snow collapsed, and I fell into the rimaye. My first thought was of injury to my back and head striking the rocks, and then of being swept along like the Squaw Valley woman.

Well, after a vertical fall of about 10 feet, I did bounce down in the stream about 40 feet and stopped, miraculously unhurt. But I was very worried about being able to get out. The "cave" was big enough to stand up, so reaching up to dig out wasn't an option. And the thought of descending into the dark abyss was abhorrent.

So I looked at climbing back up. But the slope seemed to exceed 45 degrees (it probably didn't), rocky, and there was a vertical wall at the end where I had fallen through. All with this stream rushing through, and I was somewhat drenched by now.

Long story short, I was able to climb back up and negotiated the wall to get out into the light again. The only casualty was loss of my Tilley hat; it had gotten swept down by the stream. I went back after the snow had melted, hoping to find it on the shore of Mirror Lake, but no luck.

Another time I was descending the North Fork below Lower Boy Scout Lake, south of the stream since that was still the preferred route. Here there was no stream below me, and I was with others. I stopped about 8 feet down, and with the help of friends, was able to get back up.

-----

By the way, the streams are flowing very full now. I took this picture on June 7:



I didn't have a camera yesterday--8 days later--but the water extended to the bottom of the picture, and the stream covered the lower several inches of the main log. More than in this picture from June 18, 2009:



EDIT: By the way 2, the mosquitoes are out, at Whitney Portal and above.

SPOILER ALERT FOR BOOK The Last Season by Eric Blehm. It has been a while since I read the book BUT:


As I posted on the WPSMB this reminds me alot of what happened to Randy Morgenson. But unlike this lucky lady, there was no one around to help him after his plunge through snow and ice into the creek.

I think my friend Ranger Bob R used one of his 9 lives on the account of his lst drop of 10' and then the 40' drop down the creek.

The Last Season was EXACTLY my first thought when I read that report that Steve posted. It can happen to anyone, even the most seasoned backcountry veteran like Randy Morgenson.

GREAT book, by the way. One of my favorites. I probably read it once or twice a year.

I thought about this last year when about this time when I was contemplating some of the snow bridges in my area (Sierra North) Is there some sort of protocol when evaluating snow bridge integrity?

(this is sort of like the seasonal opposite of Tree Wells)

please see
http://postholer.com/journal/viewJournal.php?sid=f90d28e7f9841d23fc2382948e9e46af&entry_id=23540

Bee, send a volunteer heavier than you, otherwise we will have another frozen Bee cartoon picture.

In the eastside, all creeks are running fast and furious. I've checked Bishop Creek, Convict Creek, Piute Creek, Pine Creek and McGee Creek; all high and dangerous. Snow bridges above 10,000 in those drainages.

Road to Mosquito Flat in Rock Creek is still closed, but the good news is the Pie in the Sky Cafe is open!

'Twas our Sierra Club Tehipite Chapter's fearless Outings Chair.

"Some of you may have figured out who this was from the article in the Bee. Yes, it was Marcia with another death-defying tale to tell. She does say that it was only two feet of snow she dug through though and not five feet. She is doing fine and wanting to go back and get her hat. She does have some minor frostbite and lots of bruises."

Yes, it's called common sense. Kind of like crossing a crevice on a glacier, you don't do it unless you are roped off. Come on Bee

Well, um, thanks for the advice -- I feel so much better, now.

Perhaps I was a bit vague; my query was in regard to any visual cues that a bridge may be weakening. I am not that experienced, thus, trial & error is very unappealing at this point.

I will keep your advice close at hand should I decide to wander over any glaciers/crevasses.

You ask for advice and you will probably get it! Glad you feel better. As for a visual clue, there aren't any, fresh snow can cover up a weak bridge or one with holes in it. I didn't realize you weren't an experienced hiker, sorry if I came off like you were.

I am your typical trail walker who rarely encounters anything technical, other than a few log crossings, etc -- rarely any snow. (however, this year, it seems unavoidable)

The avatar is actually a lift of an image that appeared in the Jan/Feb 2011 issue of Sierra magazine. They did an illustration of a 30-year-old story of a ski accident that I had.

It is sobering to think how impossible it is to evaluate the safety of a snow bridge. Since they melt out from bottom up, there is sometimes NO way to judge. There could be 3-4 feet of snow supporting the bridge, or just a foot--not enough to support much of anything.

Randy Morgensen, an experienced backcountry ranger died. Now here, a Sierra Club hike leader was fortunate to be rescued. With just a couple of different twists, the outcome could have been disastrous! Bob R's experience could have, too!

Here are some ideas:

• Check how close you are to where the stream exits (or goes underneath) the snow. Closer to the that point, the thinner it would be. But due to unseen undulations in the terrain, there could be thin spots far from the point.
• Maybe it would be possible to use a hiking pole to probe the snow to determine how thick it is.
• When hiking alone, best policy would be to avoid them completely. Of course that may be impossible to do.

Thinking back, I once tried to collapse a snow bridge over a small stream. This was a small stream, so no danger to me. I thought by stomping near the edge I could get it to collapse without my going in, and it would leave the crossing open so other hikers could see and cross more safely. Unfortunately I went in with the snow, and ended up with a wet boot.

Thats actually why I moved to Phoenix, got real tired of the snow and like hiking year around on clear trails. Now this year I am taking my son and have to buy two pairs of crampons and two ice axes, ouch!

Steve:

Thanks for posting. I had just logged on to do exactly that.

Everyone: take this stuff very seriously. There have been assorted discussion of trips where I don't think people recognize the real dangers right now, in spite of repeated warnings from very experienced people. But for skill and pure luck, this person would have died.

The same danger exists when crossing snow on the margins of lakes. Huge slabs break off into lakes well into the summer. Stay well away (100 feet) of anything sloping into and overhanging a lake.

Everybody stay safe. Rangers aren't going in until late next week.

George

Bee's question was very reasonable. To add to Steve C's advice, I don't believe common sense or being roped covers a real solution. There's no good way to tell and very few hikers carry ropes that would hold a belay.

I usually pound on snow bridges with both ski poles and, at the edge, with my foot. Best is to continue upstream where it's not just a snow bridge, but an entire field of snow (though that appears to be the case in this incident). I step very cautiously and softly. The woman here carried a long stick, on the theory that if it gave way, the stick would catch her on either side. Not bad, but it didn't work. But that shows she was worried. Not to second guess, but if you're that worried, an extended search for a better crossing might well be in order.

Finally, try to cross only in the morning -- to about 10 AM. Hard to follow that advice, but afternoons are going to be the most dangerous as the snow melts and sags.

g.

Thank you very much George.

One more thought which I just posted on another thread, but will repeat. Make sure your waist belt is unbuckled and shoulder straps semi-loose if you go in and have to dump your pack quickly. This is for anything over water -- log crossings, wading, snow bridges. Have a Plan II, know what your run out is and, if it's rapids, white water or cascade, maybe you don't want to be there... .

thanks,

g.

Good point George, I sometimes go one step further and just take my pack off all together and clutch it to my chest unless I am using poles, then I will usually just let hang on my shoulders like you suggest.

And here is the LA Times write-up -- An amazing story!

From latimes.com

Woman describes harrowing rescue from icy tunnel

Passersby rescue hiker who plunged through snowpack into icy waters in Sequoia National Park. Recovering from frostbite, she says she feels 'very, very lucky to be alive.'

The hard-packed snow atop Franklin Creek in Sequoia National Park appeared safe, but when Marcia Rasmussen, 51, walked across, it collapsed, plunging her into an icy tunnel with frigid water. For three hours, in freezing temperatures, she clawed at the frozen ceiling, her bare hands going numb and her body giving out before passersby found her.

Click here for article:  Woman describes harrowing rescue from icy tunnel


From the article:

Marcia Rasmussen runs in Sequoia National Park. She was training for an ultra-marathon when the accident occurred.

So. Now I take on the task of correcting the story and trying to explain the details that were omitted. Even the best of news reporters manage to misunderstand a few things in a short interview. In the end, I know I cannot answer ALL the questions. Especially not in a short forum post. But I would like to make a few comments.

First, snow bridges are indeed dangerous. I knew it before. I approached with extreme caution, but I guessed wrong this time. I could see a profile of the place where I crossed. It appeared to be about four feet thick. I probed. It was packed hard, frozen solid. I carried a safety pole because I routinely do that, not because I was especially nervous about this bridge. Several other people assessed the bridge that day, and they all crossed. We all crossed it again on the way out. By all appearances, this was about as bombproof a bridge as you ever see out there. Except that it wasn't.

It's a perplexing question when you ask how to judge the safety of any feature. In the end, we make judgment calls every time we go into the mountains. We weigh the risks and give it our best shot. Sometimes we ALL guess wrong. We just hope that we don't make too many mistakes in crucial places like this.

I have had many comments about items I should have had along or things I should have done differently. Which of the "ten essentials" would have helped me? People comment that I shouldn't have been alone. What would YOU do if your buddy disappeared into a stream tunnel? Could you save him? And if you ran for help, the help would do what, exactly?

We could spend eternity batting various questions around. It's a good thing to have these discussions. We learn from each other. But we like to think that if we do all the right things, we can keep ourselves safe. Life itself is risky. In the end, we make our choices. Either we sit on the couch in bubble wrap, or we go out there armed with wits and knowledge, and give life our best shot.

Happy trails,

Marcia

Thanks, Marcia. There is no end to second guessing. Thanks for your post. If you feel up to it, could you tell us your experience after the bridge collapse?

I've crossed crevasse bridges a number of times. Thankfully, none collapsed, but I did have the experience of stepping through a bridge over a seemingly bottomless crevasse. A pretty scary experience, but here I am writing about it. Many climbers had walked over the bridge, and many walked after my leg-plunge through the bridge. Things happen, as you well know.

Welcome, Marcia; and thanks for posting.

CaT

After the bridge collapsed...

Well, there wasn't much I could do as I was swept away except gasp a lungful of air and fight to get myself out of the water. I was swept over a small waterfall and at the bottom saw a little bush growing out over the stream. I grabbed it and dragged myself out of the water. I climbed up into a small air space above the water, just big enough to squeeze my whole body into in a fetal position.

Once in a "safe" pace, I took a moment to assess my options. There was no going back the way I came. Downstream was even worse. I contemplated sitting tight in that location, but no one would have been able to find me. Even if someone had seen me fall, there was no way to see where I was in this very long stream tunnel. I could have been washed a mile downstream very quickly.

I examined the ceiling of the tunnel, and found that the snow directly overhead had a faint blue glow, like the inside of a glacier crevasse. I knew from that this marked the thinnest point in the snowpack, so it was my best chance to tunnel my way out.

For the next three hours (yes, I looked at the time on my gps) I concentrated on digging. Snow was dense-packed. Used pencil-sized sticks from the bush to chip away at the snow at first, but very soon my hands were too numb to hold a tool.

As hypothermia set in, I broke the surface of the snow overhead and enlarged the hole to about 6 inches in diameter. I suspected that I might not have the strength to enlarge the hole enough before I lost consciousness. Clear thinking was becoming very difficult. So I wiggled out of my hydration pack and stuffed it up through the hole onto the surface of the snow. I hadn't seen another hiker all day, but I hoped that if anyone did come along, they would investigate the pack. That is exactly what happened.

Two hikers had passed over the bridge while I was hidden. They came back after I put my pack on the surface. The only reason they came back was because they had left their beer in the car. I am one EXTREMELY lucky woman.

THANK GOODNESS FOR BEER!!!

( Can't believe I wrote that, since I only drink one or two a month. )

Amazing, Marcia. Thanks for sharing.

Seriously, folks. Use EXTREME care around the streams this year. They're running high and cold and LATE. That little "slip and dip" could be much more serious than in most years, even where snow is not involved.

Be safe out there!

Marcia

In the Fresno Bee today.

"Three Visalia men were honored Wednesday by the National Park Service for their rescue of a Squaw Valley woman who fell through a snow bridge earlier this month at Sequoia National Park."

Marcia gave a very frank and generous interview, with photos of the scene. Quite a lady.

...and here a year later, the story continues:

Remember Marcia's Snow Bridge Adventure?

Note: this is an old thread, the ice bridge cave-in occurred June, 2011.

Marcia's mis-adventure is now described in Backpacker Magazine -- March 2013:

Out Alive: Trapped in an Ice Tunnel <-(click for the article)
A solo hiker tries to claw her way out of a frozen cave after a winter pathway collapses.
by: Joshua Prestin


On the third page of the article, there is a video taken from her ice-cave shelf that one of her rescuers was able to record.