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Read https://strava.app.link/fQuCXmlktFb to see what happened after this.

"The prerequisite to misadventure is the belief that you are invincible or that the wilderness cares about you." 

Before delving into the details, I want to make it clear that I hold no blame towards any of my companions for the events that unfolded. In the backcountry, we share equal responsibility for every decision made. This story is a part of a two-day trip marked by mistakes, lessons learned, and near-death experiences. Please refer to Ski pt. 8 for the aspects of this story that consisted of genuine survival. 

This expedition was my first experience with winter camping, a venture I had been eagerly anticipating for weeks. Through the generosity of friends and mentors, I managed to gather all the necessary gear.

Gus Shuster and I had extensively discussed the epic lines we intended to ski in Oakes Gulf: Double Barrel, Robinson Neighborhood. To us, the Gulf was our oyster.

I carried two bags, each one packed thoughtfully. While it may seem like I overpacked, this decision likely turned out to be a lifesaver. The bags contained essential winter sleeping equipment, ample food, and several changes of dry clothing.

On Saturday, December 9th, at 7:00 am, 
Nick Tucker, Dillon Pollio, and I embarked on our journey to explore the Dry River Wilderness via the Dry River Trail. Our plan was to set up camp at a Lean-To approximately seven miles from our starting point and about two miles from the base of Oakes Gulf.

The initial part of our trek was deceivingly simple, following a flat, well-maintained hiking trail. However, as we progressed, the terrain became increasingly challenging and eventually brutal. Gus and I were on skis, Nick on snowshoes, and Dillon in snow boots.

At the one mile mark, we hit a bramble that was difficult to pass. Irene devastated the area, and this bramble was one of many obstacles we had to cross. In the video below you can see Gus trying to cross it on skis. 

As the trail conditions deteriorated, it became evident that Nick and Dillon were moving faster. The trail had multiple sections undercut by the river. Despite the cold, we weren't concerned about cliff failures or landslides at this time. At each undercut, Gus and I had to remove our skis to bootpack up, which added at least 10 minutes to our journey. Due to our slower pace, we agreed to let Nick and Dillon move ahead and planned to regroup at a suspension bridge further along.

By around 9:00 am, we reached a suspension bridge 1.8 miles from our starting point. Nick and Dillon had been waiting there for some time. After a brief rest and catch-up, we decided it would be best for them to continue ahead to the Lean-To without waiting for us, as we were not making the time we had anticipated. Despite our delay, we remained hopeful that the ascent might ease our journey (a recurring theme throughout the trip).

Gus and I faced numerous challenges: gullies, undercuts, hills, and rocks, all of which were impassable on skis. Frequent removal of our skis added to our frustration, fatigue, and time.

Around 12:30 pm - 1:00 pm, we stopped for water and a meal. I found a seemingly safe spot by the Dry River. The snow appeared firm after several pole tests. However, as I reached down to fill up, I fell in. My feet and a portion of my pants were soaked, but fortunately, my upper body and head remained dry. I immediately changed my socks and lower body base layers, grateful for the extra clothing I had brought.

By this point, we had traversed 3.3 miles and ascended 1100 feet in five hours, lagging far behind our expected pace. Nick and Dillon were ahead, waiting at the Lean-To. Turning back wasn't an option, so we persevered.

Gus and I encountered multiple dangerous crossings and made several mistakes. On a few occasions, one of us would fall out of our ski bindings, resulting in either a flat face fall or a tumble at an awkward angle.

Despite these challenges, we continued, navigating over rocks, ice, riverbed, and snow. The option to turn back was not on the table; our only choice was to move forward.

The sunset through the trees was breathtaking, with the rime on the bark and leaves sparkling beautifully. It was a magical yet stark reminder of nature's indifference. As the light faded, we turned on our headlamps.

Around 4:00 pm, we faced another section where we had to "bite the bullet" and remove our skis. Gus encountered trouble clicking back into his skis due to ice in his bindings. We spent 30 minutes thawing them with our breath.

The final 0.3 miles to the Lean-To were arduous, taking an additional 45 minutes of skiing on a challenging trail. At some point during this final push, we observed a helicopter flying directly overhead.

Gus and I pondered for a moment if people would be searching for us, but that made no sense. We were not expected back yet. Since returning home, we learned there was a medical evacuation on Airplane Gulley due to an avalanche. Someone got seriously hurt and needed to be rescued. 

I won’t link the article describing what happened, but I read the accident report. That person did everything RIGHT and by the book. Someone had even skied down airplane before them. 

Sometimes you do everything right and get unlucky. Sometimes you do everything wrong (like what we were doing) and get lucky. 

Anyways…. Gus and I anticipated the joy of seeing Nick and Dillon, expecting a warm fire, water, and light. I could even smell wood smoke as we approached. 

After about 10 hours of trekking, 7 miles and 2k in vertical feet, at around 5:00pm, we reached the camp, only to find no fire, just a smoldering pile of half wet, rotten branches, and twigs. Nick and Dillon had arrived only 2 hours before us and were already resting in their sleeping arrangements. Gus and I quickly set up our space. I contemplated starting a fire, but seeing my companions' exhaustion, I decided against it. Gus fell asleep almost immediately, so I used the camp stove to make dinner.

The food I ate that evening, in proper Jewish eating tradition, was plentiful but not excessive. It included boil-in-bag meals, peanut butter M&Ms, and dried mango. It may have been life-saving.

My companions were exhausted, and while I tried making conversation, they preferred to rest. I couldn't help but wonder:
- Why did I still have plenty of energy after such a journey?
- How could we have misjudged the timelines and expected arrivals so 
  badly?
- How bad were the avalanche conditions going to be tomorrow?
- How many mistakes were we making without knowing the consequences?

Confident in our collective skills and experience, I melted some snow for drinking and to make a heat pack. After putting on every dry and warm layer I had, I settled in for sleep, unaware of the dire situation that awaited us the next day and how close we would come to death.

Principais desportos

Spencer Belsky

Ski pt. 7 - Mistakes Were Made...

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