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Tony Scott's avatar

I've been aware of that halo effect, specifically, quite a few times while backcountry skiing. I can think I'm the less knowledgeable one or just a frightened little rabbit about the "perfectly safe" 35 degree angled slope with fresh snow, but then I have to consciously force myself to make my own evaluations and listen to my own risk tolerance and fears.

It's way to easy to blindly follow the seemingly smart leaders.

Bill Drinkward's avatar

Very, very insightful and educational writing and particularly relevant to me. Thank you!

I just returned from a very high mountain in South America actually guided by the legendary mountaineer you name in this article. My lower gut alarms started firing when conditions got severe, and within a few minutes his did too. He immediately turned our team around. Disappointing to not summit that mountain...yes. Worth every penny to me to have him as our guide in the inclement circumstances making the correct call for all of us...absolutely yes! No injuries to any of us as a result. And I learned what it actually feels like to "trust my gut" when real mountain conditions go bad and to seek safety.

Jamie Wheal's avatar

amazing and so glad he followed through with his own advice. The sketchiest situations I've ever been in have been deferring to highly credentialed AMGA guides on pro trainings, and multi day alpine traverses where they seemed to be ignoring a bunch of environmental and human factors. Took longer than it should have for me to speak up. But really no diff from those experiences and this Tahoe accident. We just got lucky

Tanner Janesky's avatar

Practical advice for living and sending.

Another Dave's avatar

Very much enjoyed your post!

Have asked myself these same questions and was with a buddy that was caught in an avalanche inbounds at Donner Summit and have mountain biked on that area (another close call.) It was his turn to go first, otherwise it would have been me. Have had friends killed skiing, rock climbing and flying jets for the Navy in my prior life. The guy next to me was attacked by a Great White Shark north of Santa Cruz while windsurfing in 1995. I was the first person to go back out and let the others know once I figured it was a fluke (bad pun). The wind picked back up and the surf was juicy.

In my search I came across a book called Deep Survival, by Lawrence Gonzales. It’s about why we take chances, who lives, who dies and why. Ultimately it comes down to the emotional rush we get from doing these things, and yes it’s a drug as far as the mind is concerned. Those that get hooked push it further and sometimes the edge isn’t exactly where you think it is. Add financial incentive to the equation and all bets are off. Mix in a little PTSD and you have a toxic brew.

I was one of the lucky ones - I’ve damaged my knee so badly while training with the National Ski Patrol in 2003 that I can’t safely ski anymore. I’m lucky I can still walk.

Jamie Wheal's avatar

teach chapter 4 of that book when were on our canyon courses--"Bending the Map". try to save it until the day after folks get a little lost. ;)

Daymon Pascual's avatar

This is an excellent take on this subject. I've had many arguments with fellow BC sking partners over route choice & overall taking unnecessary risks. Now, I try to get consensus with my group so that we are all in agreement when getting into more dangerous terrain. I also follow certain rules of thumb, no matter how good the avi report, like stay high & out of terrain traps whenever possible. In business too. Good work.

John Raisor's avatar

You're under social pressures and time constraints and can't collect enough data to make the best decision.

Daniel Fernandezcano's avatar

Very interesting article! Thanks Jamie!