NSW Nordic Ski Club
ONE DAY YER GONNA GET CAUGHT!
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No, I don't mean in your underwear in the snowfields. Rather I mean that you may find yourself in the snow without shelter and be faced with the prospect of having to spend a night out. Couldn't happen to you. eh? Well, let me tell you a little story.
Once, long ago, on a wild and stormy night a party of hardened nordic tourers were ensconced in a snug little hut nestling in the woods. Tall tales and true were being related. Lawson's poetry was being recited and the convivial atmosphere was being lubricated by lashings of tea and a modicum of rum. (Did I say that this was a fairy story?)
Needless to say, in the wee small hours of the night an insistent pressure led to wakefulness and the awesome realisation that "a journey" was required. Reluctantly, the warmth of the sleeping bag was abandoned, and clad only in thermals and a Gore-tex coat an intrepid individual braved the night.
Well, the wind she blew and the snow she fell, but eventually the outhouse was reached. After accomplishing the necessary, the return journey was commenced. Now the snow was falling heavily round about and had inconsiderately filled up the tracks from the hut. This was when the first faint icy twinge of alarm was felt, but no, the hut was only 200 metres away upwind. No problem!
So off he strode into the so dark black night cockily counting paces, there being 120 paces to 100 metres plus some more for the deep snow. . . .170, 171, 172. . . .189, 190, 191. . . .where is that blasted hut?! My God! The wind has shifted!
By this time a certain degree of coolness was being experienced, occasioned possibly by the soft wet snow being driven horizontally by the irritatingly persistent wind. Panic! No, never! This word does not exist in the vocabulary of a langlaufer!
The considered decision was to immediately return to the outhouse. So back along the rapidly filling tracks he followed ... for 30 metres ... whence he stopped, for there were no more tracks to follow. The trusty torch which had served many a year chose this opportune moment to take a holiday. This was when the word panic was rapidly re-invented! Thoughts of a pathetic frozen huddled mass in the snow drifted through a rapidly churning consciousness.
What to do? Indeed that was the question. A solution, swift and simple, came to mind. Establish a base point at a recognisable tree and then conduct a box search to the four corners of the compass. Back and forth he cast, to and fro, searching, searching ... searching everywhere. Where is that blasted hut?
Clunk!! The hut is found by the simple expedient of walking into it. Never was the texture of galvanised iron so sensually gratifying.
Far fetched you say? Well, stranger tales and true have happened in the highlands. The moral of the story? Don't drink rum - well, maybe not, a firm grasp of the practical has to be retained, even in extremis.
But getting back to the point of this article, you can all too easily become separated from your party and your gear - e.g. , skiing off to get water, to take in a view or a slope, etc. The weather closes in and before you realise it you are alone.
Alone, with only with what you stand up in and with what fills your mind. If you cannot return to your party your survival depends on these resources. If the nightwalker had not so fortuitously found the hut with his nose he could have survived. Survived by building a snow shelter, more commonly known as a funk-hole.
This consists of a largely closed-off hole in the snow just big enough to fit a person in the foetal position. I know this sounds about as sensible as climbing into your deepfreeze clothed only in your pyjamas, but it does work.
It works because of a number of factors:
So what you do is to find a steep bank and then burrow into it. Feet are very efficient digging and snow moving tools, as are ski tips, plates and if there is nothing else, hands. Dig a hole just big enough for you to squat in without touching the snow (to avoid heat loss by convection. ) The key is to make the hole just big enough (the less space, the smaller amount of air to heat up. )
- Snow's main component is air - air trapped in very small pockets and, as such, is a very efficient insulator.
- When you are in the hole you are protected from the wind and so don't lose to convection the heat produced by your body.
- Your body produces large amounts of heat which if it can be saved and harnessed will keep the temperature of the hole well above freezing and so save your life.
Then put on all your clothing and pop into the hole. Use something to sit on and to keep your feet off the snow, e.g., day pack, water bottle, branches, etc. Finally pull snow into the entrance until you are left with a small hole to breathe through.
Once you have done this settle down and endure. Keep the mind active: - sing bawdy songs, recite Shakespeare, think of England, whatever, but stay lucid. By this means you will survive to greet the dawn with a fervour shared by few.
So when next you chance to stray and inadvertently lose your way, remember this tale and draw upon your greatest resource your mind.
The Nightwalker.
P.S. Learning how to build an emergency snow shelter at 2 o'clock in the morning in the middle of a blizzard is not advised. Better to try your hand when you next have a spare hour on the slopes.
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