Since I couldn't attend Saturday's mtn. bike race, I opted to brave the rain and wet streets, to compete in the Dare to Race GP #1, in Ontario, on Sunday. I probably would have skipped the race, due to the rain, but after the mishaps and complications occuring over the past month, I still needed two more starts as a Cat V to earn my Cat IV upgrade. I assumed, correctly as it turned out, that the weather would scare away enough pre-registered racers, that I could nab a spot in the already full Mens Cat IV/V field, in addition to the Mens 30+ Cat IV/V field, thereby knocking out my last two Cat V starts in one day.
My race performance was not really worthy of too much elaboration. Suffice it to say I spent too much time on the front, so I wasn't anywhere near the front, when it counted. In an unexpected twist of fate, the race that occured in the rain, the Men's 30+ IV/Vs was the safer of the two. No crashes in that one, but inexplicably there were 4 crashes in the Open Men's IV/V field, which started after the rain had cleared off and took place on dry streets. I managed to avoid the crashes, but -- yet again -- was nowhere near the front at the finish. I had a relatively good position, about 10th wheel, going into the last set of corners. That was before I got caught up in the traffic jam that occurred after one of the many crashes. I found myself off the back, and figured there wasn't much point in chasing back on to sprint for a mid-pack finish, so I sat up and rolled through the line, off the back.
I wonder where Mark Foist was?
So, all in all a pretty unremarkable weekend. The real excitement came on Monday night. I returned home from work, with plans to attend to various household chores that had been neglected over the weekend, when the following message came through on my cell phone:
FRM: Paul Franklin
SUBJ: Rescue
MSG: Need 4 people, ice-axe crampons, on San G summit.
Call Paul
(909) xxx-xxxx
It seems two day-hikers found themselves running out of daylight, at the summit, and opted for a shorter route than the one they had taken up. They headed down the southwest face of the peak, and soon found themselves in a bit of a bind. Under equipped (One of the hikers had no crampons, only snowshoes.), exhausted, and having taken a scary, though fortunately non-injury-causing fall, on the steep and icy terrain, the lesser prepared one of the party determined he was unable to go on. At this point they called for help on their cell phone, and shortly thereafter the team was summoned.
My initial reaction was, "Oh, hell yeah!", as I interpreted "on San G summit", to mean we were getting an e-ticket ride to the top, that being a Sheriff's Dept. helicopter.
Shortly thereafter, reality set in, and I was thinking something more along the lines of "Oh shit.", as this would by my first winter SAR mission. I've had practice and training on snow and ice, and feel reasonably comfortable with the basic skills, but this wasn't training. This was the real deal. Fortunately, I have enough confidence in the experience and skills of my teammates, to know I'd not be required to do anything I wasn't completely comfortable with, or capable of. With this knowledge, I pushed my fears to the back of my mind and got to work changing and gathering my gear.
A little less than an hour later, I was at the SAR Barn at Mill Creek, organizing my pack and preparing to board a helicopter to the summit of San Gorgonio.
The initial plan was to make our way down to the hikers' position, from the summit, with an extra set of crampons. Whereupon they would be escorted to the summit and airlifted off the mountain. Easy in, easy out.
Upon surveying the scene, however, plans changed. It was determined by the ranking team members, that because the hikers' condition and experience level were unknown, and the slope was treacherous, that ropes should be utilized and the hikers belayed to the summit on rope.
This required more personnel and more gear, so after a couple more helicopter flights, to ferry additional team members and gear, the work of fixing ropes, and belaying the rescuers and the rescued, to the summit, began. The use of ropes made it a long night, but a minor mishap, featuring a loose crampon and a short fall, reinforced the decision to err on the side of caution.
Both hikers were flown off the mountain and later returned safely to their car. Myself, and the team member in charge of the night's operation, were the last to be flown off the mountain. We touched down at the ranger station shortly after midnight. Not a bad night's work. It certainly beats staying home, and washing dishes (Which are still sitting in the sink.).
I've been on several calls since joining the team, some more exciting/interesting than others, but this was definitely a highlight of my SAR service thus far.
