It all started with a bum shoulder. Ironically the shoulder was injured during a grueling litter carry in January when a hiker fell and injured his ankle above the Sierra Hut on Baldy. My injured shoulder, and the voice of my physical therapist telling me to lay off carrying a pack for a while, kept me out of the field on Saturday and in the command post. My compatriots in West Valley SAR are excellent search managers, so I don't mind command post duty with them, but I do prefer to be in the field. If you've ever worked in the command post, and I mean work, not just sitting around drinking coffee and jawing about whatever, then you know that the work load is completely out of phase with work in the field. The operational period begins with a frantic assembly of team assignments and filling out the appropriate paperwork all while coordinating team transportation with the intent of getting people in the field quickly. For those going into the field, the wait can be maddening, but it does provide a bit of time to sort gear and prepare for the assignment at hand.
Once the teams get into the field, the pace in the command post slows a bit and the anxiety begins to chip away at whatever shred of confidence that previously existed. Have you correctly deployed the teams given the information available? Will the teams complete their assignment as directed? Given more resources, where should they be deployed? Slowly information begins to trickle in as some searchers find clues and others find nothing. For those of you who have been on searches and never been in the area where the missing person was found, please take heart. The fact that you did not find anything is just as useful as those who do find clues. After all, finding nothing allows search managers to exclude areas and more efficiently deploy resources.
This past Saturday while serving in the planning section on the Travesio search I had the opportunity to interact with the family on several occasions. During this time I witnessed their emotions and found them to be nearly identical to those of searchers. There is the initial anxiety while the search is organized and work begins, followed by a bit of relief as the plan is set into motion, followed by the heightened apprehension that grows every second that their loved one remains missing. Sitting in a command post is a maddening experience. You are completely dependent upon your teams in the field for information, and whether they complete their mission as assigned. After a few hours the suspense begins to take its toll, and the planning for the next operational period begins if, for nothing else, to just keep busy. Meanwhile, the family waits.
Suddenly, in the middle of planning the nighttime operation, a voice comes over the radio saying that Mr. Travesio's pants were found, followed immediately by the helicopter reporting that they have located our guy. There is no greater joy in search and rescue, and to see the unfettered relief on the faces of loved ones is beyond compare. A few tense minutes pass as our hiker is assessed and finally transported to a local hospital where he is tearfully reunited with his family.
As the command post revs up to full speed again to begin the extraction of searchers and the demobilization of resources, I am suddenly struck with intense pride. There I was serving with the best of the best. The fact that these people were all volunteers was amazing enough, but these people were more than just volunteers. These searchers were those who have taken it upon themselves to maintain their physical fitness and their mountaineering skills in such a manner that they could complete their mission in any environment. These were not just members of a social club who wear orange uniforms and host pancake breakfasts, but trained professionals. Their sunburned cheeks, dirty uniforms, and scratched skin were testaments to their dedication and tenacity. Where do we get such people?
So, while I have been frustrated with my shoulder, I am thankful for the opportunity to see the whole picture from the command post. Plotting locations on the map, and sorting assignments is interesting, but there is nothing better than tramping through the wilderness in a driving snowstorm with like-minded colleagues toward a common goal.
West Valley SAR would like to thank Rim of the World SAR, SB Mountain SAR, Bear Valley SAR, Wrightwood/Phelan SAR, San Gorgonio SAR, the Cave & Technical Rescue Team, and Sheriff's Aviation for assisting in the search for Daniel Travesio.