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Mountain Rescue Dogs

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Women Do Whiskey

Women Do Whiskey

written by Amy Korst

photography by Bradley Lanphear

MAC, A 10-MONTH-OLD CHOCOLATE LAB, IS LEARNING TO BE AN AVALANCHE DOG ON MOUNT BACHELOR. HIS HANDLER IS BURIED IN A SHALLOW SNOW CAVE ALONGSIDE ONE OF BACHELOR’S POPULAR PINE MARTEN RUNS, WHILE MAC WAITS UP AT THE LOOKOUT TOWER THAT SERVES AS A MOUNTAINTOP SKI PATROL HEADQUARTERS.

As soon as his handler is safely sealed inside the snow cave, Mac gets the go-ahead. Wearing a red vest adorned with a white cross, he races out of the lookout tower and bolts down the mountain ski run alongside a roaring snowmobile. The snowmobile stops, and Mac knows exactly what to do.

Mt. Bachelor’s Mac and Banyan survey their domain.

His job is to sniff out his trapped handler and unbury him as quickly as possible. He dives into a snowbank, tail wagging, paws furiously digging, snow flying. On Mac’s first drill of the day, it takes him just one minute to punch a hole into the snow cave. As soon as Mac catches sight of his handler, he dives into the hole and starts to pull his handler out.

Cheers, whistles and shouts of “Good boy, Mackie!” ring through the air.

Training an avalanche dog takes care, patience and persistence. The foundational training work takes several years to complete, and avalanche rescue dogs will continue to participate in training drills several times a week for the duration of their career. In Oregon, for both Mt. Bachelor and Mt. Hood Meadows ski resorts, teams of handlers and their “avy” dogs attend annual training sessions around the country specifically designed to hone their skills.

Before Mac’s training is complete, he will learn to safely ride in chairlifts and helicopters, on snow cats and snowmobiles. He will learn to run down the mountain between the skis of his handler while safely avoiding the sharp edges, sit still in a toboggan and tolerate being carried on his handler’s shoulders. He will undergo intense socialization and obedience training. He will learn to dig multiple victims out of the snow in drills that simulate emergency scenarios as closely as possible.

And, as careful deployment of explosives and gun shots is part of avalanche prevention, these dogs even learn to take loud sounds like explosions and fireworks in stride.

Banyan, a golden retriever, is one of the old pros at Mt. Bachelor.

“We consider dogs to be our backup insurance policy,” said Matt Baldwin, ski patrol training supervisor at Mt. Bachelor. “The dogs are their worst-case scenario. If an avalanche were to happen in-bounds at a ski area, the dogs are the first line of defense. They are specifically trained to find someone buried in an avalanche, buried in snow, using their nose. Using scent. That is their sole job up here at the hill. Now that’s not the end-all, be-all if the worst were to happen. If the dogs didn’t turn up a scent, we are still going to continue our rescue efforts, but it definitely gives you that first big sigh of relief.”

Avalanche dog rescue programs have existed since the 1930s, when the Swiss Army started deploying dogs for avalanche search and rescue. Researchers have found a single dog is as efficient as twenty people, and that the dog can clear an area in an eighth of the time it takes human search-and-rescue teams. Today, the Swiss continue to be leaders in avalanche dog training, having developed a four-phase training program known as the Swiss Method.

Both of Oregon’s avalanche dog programs use aspects of the Swiss Method. Dave Baker with Mt. Hood’s ski patrol program said after the avy dogs-in-training complete their initial obedience courses, they enter the four phases of the Swiss Method.

Each phase involves the dog, the dog’s handler, another partner and a shallow hole in the snow.

Training for avalanche recovery at Mt. Bachelor.

After the dogs pull people from the snow cave, they are rewarded.

Stella rides on a rescue toboggan behind Dave Baker.

WE CONSIDER DOGS TO BE OUR BACKUP INSURANCE POLICY. THE DOGS ARE THEIR WORST-CASE SCENARIO. IF AN AVALANCHE WERE TO HAPPEN IN-BOUNDS AT A SKI AREA, THE DOGS ARE THE FIRST LINE OF DEFENSE.

Phase one is basically a game of hide-and seek for the dog. The handler teases and excites the dog while the dog is being held by the partner, then runs and jumps in the hole. The dog chases after his handler, and upon jumping into the hole, earns “big loves,” as Baker said.

Phase two repeats the same game, but before the dog is released to chase after her handler, the entrance to the hole is covered in soft snow blocks, which encourages the dog to start digging at the strongest scent.

In phase three, a third person is added to the mix to teach the dog to search for people other than her handler. The handler and the “stranger” enter the snow cave together. The stranger, rather than the handler, rewards the dog with a favorite toy or treat when she digs into the cave.

In phase four, the dog’s handler is eliminated and the dog searches instead for the stranger.

At this point, Baker said, the dog is working to learn what is called “victim loyalty,” or to keep digging without cues or direction from the handler. In the event of an actual avalanche, it’s imperative that the dog keeps searching for people buried in the snow while the handler works elsewhere.

Mt. Hood’s avalanche dog program currently has seven handlers and six dogs, including Baker’s own yellow lab, two black labs, a border collie/black lab mix, a golden retriever and a Nova Scotia duck-hauling retriever. The dogs range in age from 1-year-old to Baker’s pup, which is 9½ years old and nearing retirement. Baker and a second handler work together to train Enzo, one of Mt. Hood’s black labs.

Like Mt. Hood, Mt. Bachelor’s avalanche dog program also employs retriever breeds. There are four dogs on staff at Bachelor: Mango and Banyan, both golden retrievers, a black lab named Riggins and Mac.

Avy dog Enzo practices rappelling from the chairlift.

Baker, center, and members of Mt. Hood’s ski patrol.

“There are tons of breeds that you can choose from when you’re choosing an avalanche dog. There’s no exact guideline,” Baldwin said. “The dog either has it or they don’t.”

Retriever breeds are popular because of their disposition. “They are great, friendly dogs,” Baldwin said. “A lot of the work we do up here is PR work, so we use them as educational tools for ski school groups and in the community, going to schools, giving seminars, and everybody loves a big goofy lab. And they are incredible working dogs, they are great athletes, they are durable, they’re just great dogs.”

Plus, Baker said, retrievers are built for the work avalanche dogs do.

The dogs have distinct personalities and skill sets they bring to the job. Take Riggins and Banyan at Mt. Bachelor, for example.

Banyan, a 5-year-old golden retriever, loves to play. During training breaks, he finds a stick and settles in for a nice chew, but as soon as it’s time to work, he knows he has a job to do. Banyan pulls people he rescues from the snow cave with a gentle mouth and a soft touch.

Riggins, on the other hand, is possibly the most hyper-focused dog on the planet. He is made for this work, is intensely disciplined and during training breaks, doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. He doesn’t have Banyan’s gentle tug, but rather yanks victims from the jaws of a snow cave.

At the end of the day, these remarkable dogs return home with their humans, who seem in awe of having the privilege to work with them.

“You get to train your dog to be one of the coolest dogs out there,” Baker said. “The bond between the handler and the dog is absolutely awesome.”

Baldwin’s veteran avalanche dog, Wyatt, retired from duty last year, though Baldwin said Wyatt misses the slopes and gets to visit from time to time.

“Truly, it’s been one of the more incredible partnerships I’ve had. He was by my side constantly,” he said. “We were able to key into each other immediately. He was my buddy for ten years up here. The biggest thing is being able to have your dog right there, by your side, its entire career. From skiing around with him as a puppy in my backpack to this whole last season.”

Today, Wyatt rests at home, secure after years of service knowing the elite few he helped train will watch over the mountain in his stead, keeping us all safe.

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