https://www.ktvq.com/news/local-news/body-of-missing-red-lodge-hiker-tatum-morell-found
Not a snowmobiler or sledding family (that I know of), but I've been following this story closely ever since news broke of a missing lone hiker/climber. This is an area I'm pretty familiar with: I've camped just over a mile away. When SAR was activated, it was already four days after last contact. By that time, the number of likely scenarios where she could still be alive were precious few. The area she planned to be in was relatively small, and so it was able to be pretty thoroughly covered. Other than her camp site, nothing was found for over a month. Ultimately, her remains were discovered when some hikers found a piece of hiking gear and investigated; she'd been buried in a rock slide, which explains why the intensive search failed to find her.
As with sledders, many back-country hikers and climbers will never go alone. A simple hiking or camping expedition isn't necessarily that risky, but mountain climbing such as this definitely is. Still, some people enjoy the solo experience, perhaps moreso with mountaineers. I made a similar–though not nearly as ambitious–solo trip with a fairly straightforward summit of Silver Run Peak last summer, but even at the time I remember thinking how easily it could turn into a serious survival situation by slipping and breaking a leg or such, miles away from any help. I wouldn't say I'll never do something like that again, but I won't be attempting any challenging summits solo. I also won't sit here and say that people should never go solo, only that they should understand the risks and work within their known abilities. She was experienced, by all accounts, and carrying a satellite communicator. Just as someone caught in an avalanche though, that made no difference in this case. Devices like an Inreach or SPOT are great tools, but I wonder how often they lead to "I've got an [Inreach, air bag, etc.], I don't need to worry" thinking. She was young, and a combination of technical expertise and "I've got a life-line" thinking might have resulted in her pushing too far. On the other hand, I've heard of very few injuries or deaths from rock slides in this area; she may have simply managed to trigger something in an area that seemed safe.
At the end of the day, it's tragic, but at least she was found and the family doesn't have to live with crippling uncertainty any more. This kind of thing doesn't deter me from venturing into the wild, but it's a stern reminder that it's not safe out there. I tend to be fairly cautious, but still at times I'll get myself into situations and take risks I didn't mean to. You can't take things for granted, and sometimes you just have to turn around and try another day. Even at your best, you go out there knowing that no matter how well planned and prepared, you're taking a risk. It's about living life. Some people knowingly and willingly push far beyond what I'm comfortable with, while others would never leave a developed trail, spend a night in the woods, or take a sled out because it's not "safe.' We'll never know if this hiker was pushing her luck, or just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, but I prefer to think it was the latter. Either way, her name is Tatum Morell, and she is forever twenty-three.
Not a snowmobiler or sledding family (that I know of), but I've been following this story closely ever since news broke of a missing lone hiker/climber. This is an area I'm pretty familiar with: I've camped just over a mile away. When SAR was activated, it was already four days after last contact. By that time, the number of likely scenarios where she could still be alive were precious few. The area she planned to be in was relatively small, and so it was able to be pretty thoroughly covered. Other than her camp site, nothing was found for over a month. Ultimately, her remains were discovered when some hikers found a piece of hiking gear and investigated; she'd been buried in a rock slide, which explains why the intensive search failed to find her.
As with sledders, many back-country hikers and climbers will never go alone. A simple hiking or camping expedition isn't necessarily that risky, but mountain climbing such as this definitely is. Still, some people enjoy the solo experience, perhaps moreso with mountaineers. I made a similar–though not nearly as ambitious–solo trip with a fairly straightforward summit of Silver Run Peak last summer, but even at the time I remember thinking how easily it could turn into a serious survival situation by slipping and breaking a leg or such, miles away from any help. I wouldn't say I'll never do something like that again, but I won't be attempting any challenging summits solo. I also won't sit here and say that people should never go solo, only that they should understand the risks and work within their known abilities. She was experienced, by all accounts, and carrying a satellite communicator. Just as someone caught in an avalanche though, that made no difference in this case. Devices like an Inreach or SPOT are great tools, but I wonder how often they lead to "I've got an [Inreach, air bag, etc.], I don't need to worry" thinking. She was young, and a combination of technical expertise and "I've got a life-line" thinking might have resulted in her pushing too far. On the other hand, I've heard of very few injuries or deaths from rock slides in this area; she may have simply managed to trigger something in an area that seemed safe.
At the end of the day, it's tragic, but at least she was found and the family doesn't have to live with crippling uncertainty any more. This kind of thing doesn't deter me from venturing into the wild, but it's a stern reminder that it's not safe out there. I tend to be fairly cautious, but still at times I'll get myself into situations and take risks I didn't mean to. You can't take things for granted, and sometimes you just have to turn around and try another day. Even at your best, you go out there knowing that no matter how well planned and prepared, you're taking a risk. It's about living life. Some people knowingly and willingly push far beyond what I'm comfortable with, while others would never leave a developed trail, spend a night in the woods, or take a sled out because it's not "safe.' We'll never know if this hiker was pushing her luck, or just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, but I prefer to think it was the latter. Either way, her name is Tatum Morell, and she is forever twenty-three.