I wish avalanches waiting to happen looked like cliffs. When we see a cliff we can easily assess what will happen if we jump off. For example a 3 foot cliff we know will result in us feeling a little spring in our legs. We also know that a 200 foot cliff will result in certain death. However, sometimes the hardest thing to do is to leave that beautifully snow covered hill untouched on a bright blue sky day, especially after having looked forward to that day for several weeks. Think about how excited we get when we know the big dump is going to be followed by that awesome sunny day, and it's a Saturday with everyone signed up to go.
Ok, so the avy forecast is moderate everywhere but above treeline, where it is considerable. The main problem is a persistent weak layer. How big is that cliff and where the heck is it? Well if it looked like a 200 ft cliff none of us would even think of going on it. But it is incredibly hard to look at that perfect hill and say "that thing is going to slide if we ride it" or "that thing might slide if we ride it" and get any buy in. So you say it and you get buy in from the group (trust me, this is rare unless there are slides all around you). As you and the group decide not to ride it you cant help but notice that it hasn't slid. It still looks just like we have been picturing in our dreams. So the next hill we decide to test a little rather than just abstain. One at a time, everyone out of the way watching. All good. Run after run. Ten times. No problem. You see the next hill over where guys just left. You go over there. They had been up and down twelve times. Now tell me, how many of us would look at that and see a 200 ft cliff? How many of us would have said - that thing has the potential to slide with one more run - let's be really safe? Well that next run triggered a 700ft wide avalanche on a persistent weak layer 3ft down.
As snowmobilers none of us run around digging snow pits to assess the layers. You can't tell for certain that a hill will slide until after it has slid. After it has slid you can clearly assess the cliff. Yes, there are days when you have more obvious signs and the cliff is more recognizable. But most days that we look forward to riding because the snow conditions are good also happen to be higher risk days.
So what is my point? Read avalanche accident reports and talk about them with your group. Learn from other's mistakes but never let yourself think that it won't happen to you. None of us take our mountain sleds to the mountains to ride trails. Yes, carry your avalanche gear and know how to use it. But always assess what and who is around you and tell yourself in advance what you will and will not ride and under what conditions. Know that you have a safe run-out and make sure you have people spotting you from a safe place. If there are trees in the run-out your beacon, shovel, probe and airbag will not help you. Nor will your friends. Of the seven that died in Washington avalanches this year, at least 4 of them died from trauma.
Is that perfect untouched hill paradise or a 200 ft cliff? It's not always easy to tell but it is worth trying hard to.
Definitely a great take on the subject. Reading through avalanche reports, you find a pretty good mix of "obvious poor choice" cases, and ones where you wonder if you might have done the same thing. On some level, we are always accepting a risk when we go riding, even doing our homework and making good decisions. I can't understand someone who'd say "the risk is elevated, but I'm willing to chance it;" by the same token, however, there are people who'd view even relatively conservative riding like my own as too risky. Ultimately, the message isn't "don't take any risks," but more along the lines of "educate yourself, think through the consequences, and don't let the 'perfect day' suck you in."
It's easy to see how people get sucked in. It's a couple hours drive (best case) for me to get to good riding; I can't just go riding on a whim when conditions are perfect. So even for me it's tempting to push things harder when there's great snow. I think about someone who has to plan weeks in advance, perhaps traveling over a thousand miles, hoping the weather will be good, there'll be fresh snow, and so on. In that circumstance, if you have a beautiful sunny day and fresh powder, it's real easy to talk yourself into just going for it. "Next time" might be next season for that guy. Still, extreme hazards call for a measured, disciplined approach.
As mentioned, it would be nice if the risks were always obvious and easily calculated – unfortunately, nature is seldom that predictable. Still, I think preparation and good decision-making could eliminate the majority of these deaths. There's an often-repeated quote on flying:
"Aviation in itself is not inherently dangerous. But to an even greater degree than the sea, it is terribly unforgiving of any carelessness, incapacity or neglect."
Although the risks aren't exactly the same, there are a lot of similarities. I think you'd find experienced pilots and snowmobilers share a similar mentality – one that doesn't entirely avoid risk, but is always actively assessing and uncompromising when the warning signs begin to appear.
