It Could’ve Been Me

I’ll admit, I’ve been worried about my friends in this crazy storm. Especially amid February’s deadliest avalanche in Tahoe’s history as one person remains missing. Of the 15 people who went out to the Frog Lake ski huts on February 15, six people survived (one male and five women) and nine people were found deceased.

Living in Tahoe for 20 years and loving snowboarding, I have quite a few Truckee mom friends who I’ve maybe lost touch with over the years, some of whom are nurses and emergency responders, avalanche-certified snowboarders, skiers, and snowmobilers.

The mountains beckoned us to this place and think we understand the dangers of going into the backcountry. We sometimes take years to prepare for it, taking avalanche safety and CPR courses, always bringing beacons, probes, and shovels.

But even just a year or two ago, on a clear spring day with lots of snow, a backcountry skier went up Castle Peak, fell over a pile of rocks, and broke several bones in his body. Lying in a heap at the bottom of the cliff, a couple of Truckee doctors/backcountry skiers saw the accident, made it over to him, did CPR and stabilized him, called a helicopter. He was airlifted to the hospital and made it out ok.

That didn’t make the major news at the time. The same friend who shared the story with me planned to go to the Frog Lake huts next week. With the limited information that was released at the time of the deadly avalanche, we were all quick to speculate. Who was this backcountry guide outfitter taking people out on Castle Peak in one of the worst storms in history?

From the Bay Area, probably. Didn’t understand or know how to read Tahoe terrain. Had no business being out there, especially with I-80 and all major roadways closed.

But then half a day later, more information was released. The guides were from Truckee with other offices in Mt. Shasta and Washington. They have years of experience and knowledge of Truckee/Tahoe terrain, check the Sierra Avalanche Center conditions pretty much every day. It went from thinking there was an outside group leading inexperienced skiers on a day trip to their deaths, to wondering, these were all local Truckee moms? Who had been up there for a few days? And then, oh my gosh, do I know anyone who died?

And as more information came out, I thought, this could’ve been me.

On February 17, I called and texted my brother, who lived in Olympic Valley and bought two split boards back in November. When I didn’t hear from him, I called my mom to make sure she had heard from him (he’s ok). Then I heard my friend’s coworker didn’t go to work on Wednesday because her sibling had suddenly passed away.

Truckee/Tahoe is a small area. For those of us who’ve been here for a while, we’re all 1-3 degrees of separation around here. Who were the people caught in the avalanche?

I am constantly checking the news for information. I keep thinking about all my badass Truckee women backcountry skier and rider friends with young children at home. Are they ok?

On February 17, one person commented on the Blackbird Mountain Guides Instagram page: “Were you guiding this afternoon at Castle Peak? If so, this post will serve as a cautionary tale and warning. The 🐲🐉 was out there and your guides should have been aware. No words. Condolences to all the families affected by this tragedy.”

How quick we are to judge. People bashing them on Facebook is even worse. Unlike the avalanche that killed a man at Palisades Tahoe a few years ago that I covered, this hit different. This really could’ve been me.

I remember when I wrote that Palisades Tahoe avalanche article, a longtime ski patroller friend at another resort said that skiing or riding steep terrain, whether it’s at a resort or in the backcountry, is inherently dangerous. I mean, that’s why we’re drawn to it, right? For the thrill, the adrenaline rush, the fresh powder?

I went up Castle Peak 15 years ago with a group of friends on a snowy 3-day backcountry hut ski trip. I’ll never forget
how much fun it was having to use a probe to find the Peter Grubb hut and then have a few days off the grid to play in the snow.

I understand the decision to leave the hut, carefully traversing around the avalanche zone. While I wish they would’ve stayed another night, but I’m not going to pretend to know what they were thinking. Maybe they left because they were running out of food and didn’t want to get even more buried considering how much it snowed on Tuesday.

As of the morning of February 19, one skier was still missing. It dumped another 3-6 feet of snow at my house (which is at lake level) that day. Trying to break away from the news and terror of the situation, I hugged my loved ones, started a fire, and shoveled a bit, careful to stay away from roof eaves.

To my Truckee friends, I miss you, I’m thinking of you, and I want to reconnect and celebrate life with you when the snow thaws.