VOLUNTEERS

There’s a saying in Vermont that if you are ever lost in the woods, just follow water and you will come to a town. That may be true: technically, the even the highest mountain rivulets eventually end up in Lake Champlain or the Connecticut River. Chances are that before they do, they pass by some form of civilization, ideally one with a warm fire, cold beer and cell service.

However, said rivulets can also lead to hollows or bogs, down steep ravines or over cliff faces — places where a slip can have sudden consequences. And if you are cold and wet and darkness is setting in, an afternoon hike can turn into something unforeseeably frightening.

I’ve been lost in the Vermont woods –on skis and on foot – but never in a situation where I’ve had to call for help.

But I have known of people, even some of the most experienced outdoors people, who have. These include former ski racers who got caught in a blinding snowstorm atop Mt. Mansfield, hikers who were borderline hypothermic, and a mountain biker who broke his neck riding alone, offtrail, in an empty section of state forest.

Vermont search and rescue teams have a well-deserved reputation as some of the best in the country. While some, such as the members of the Vermont State Police or EMTs, take on search and rescue as an extension of (and in addition to) their regular jobs, many others work strictly as volunteers. Vermont also has a paid position, mandated by the legislature in 2012 and now filled by Drew Clymer, that can pull together statewide resources when a search is called for.

But even for volunteers, being a part of a technical or backcountry search and rescue team, (as Stowe Mountain Rescue team member John Wehse explains in his interview with Phyl Newbeck on page 25) demands time, responsibility and sacrifice. To join a team takes serious fitness, strong skills, hours of training and a willingess to go whenever a call comes in.

The town of Killington recently moved its fire department, EMS and search and rescue teams under a new paid municipal fire chief. The new fire chief was right to raise the issue of certifications and standards.

Yet for him to mandate that search and rescue personnel and their gear and record-keeping meet National Fire Protection Association and other standards, without first understanding the culture and history behind Vermont’s mountain rescue teams, seems absurd.

By definition, technical search and rescue teams have to travel into the backcountry, sometimes for miles, on foot. They need to carry climbing, not fire safety, ropes and often must travel light and fast. There’s no fire truck to carry gear or to back them up.

The Killington Selectboard supported their new fire chief, as our story explains on page 23. Yet in the process, they lost one of the best-trained teams in the state: By March 20, 17 of the 18 former Killington Search and Rescue (KSAR) volunteers either were let go or had resigned.

Teams like that don’t come together overnight. “We’re like a family,” said former KSAR member Joel Blumenthal, a volunteer from Rutland. Even after the KSAR team resigned, they kept on training on their own. “We’re just about people trying to help other people,” Blumenthal said.

I’m not going to give away the end of this story (see page 22) but there is good news.

That’s a huge relief for the growing numbers of us who hike, bike and ski in Vermont’s backcountry.

—Lisa Lynn, Editor