You always think it will never happen to you despite knowing the high probability that it most certainly eventually will. It is every skiers’ worst nightmare, even worse than the threat of Non-Crystaline Precipitation or a drought of powder. In a long enough time line, the odds eventually catch up to us all and sideline us mid-season with a skiing related injury. It is the risk we take by participating in the sport, especially those of us that push our limits beyond the relatively safe and open slopes of most ski areas. A risk I have always considered worth while to obtain epic powder turns found on fantastically challenging terrain. And I still do.
Jay Peak had been slammed with early season snow that had been mostly deposited in the woods. I found myself with two skiing partners skiing roped off tree runs on the fateful afternoon of Saturday December 10, 2005. Despite being roped, the allure of a foot and a half of fresh powder covering a decent base had many skiers breaking the rules for fresh turns, myself and my companions included. We scored epic turns in Timbuktu, Kitz Woods, and finally in the Beaver Pond area, where tragedy was to strike.
A companion and I were staying skiers right in Beaver Pond Glades where we suddenly found ourselves on an exit route towards the main trail. Wanting more powder turns in the glades, we scoped out a pair of slots through the trees. Our other partner had managed to stay more left and was already well below our location. My partner made it through his slot without problem but my attempt would not be as fortunate. I made two quick turns on packed snow before my skis sunk down in unexpected deep powder. The binding of my right ski released and my weight was thrown forward. My weight carried me through the air where I lost complete control, my trajectory was straight down the fall line into a waiting tree two feet in diameter and appearing mighty solid. My last thoughts included “get the head out of the way” and “this is going to hurt.” Both thoughts were well warranted.
I slammed hard into the tree which did not give an inch. Leading with my elbow on my right side, I avoided trauma to my head and nervous system. The accident could have been much worse, especially with my partners already below me and most likely out of yelling range. My wind had been knocked out of me, so I worked on slow deep breathing for a minute while I silently assessed the situation without moving. My elbow was in pain, but it did not feel severe. I had certainly expected more pain based on the velocity of my crash. But I quickly realized I could not bend the elbow very much and certainly could not put pressure or weight on my right elbow. I was certainly done skiing for the day if not a longer period of time!
After careful assessment and getting myself onto my feet again, I realized that without my right arm I would be hard pressed to make it through the glade without falling and making things worse. I spied the open slope through the trees and began making my way to the opening. Ducking under a snow pipe, I quickly found myself thigh deep in frozen man made snow sludge that had frozen up. The top of the snow cover would not support my weight and I post holed easily, but the snow underneath the surface would not budge. It had frozen up much like an avalanche might as it comes to a stop. All my effort was produced just to move an inch or two forward. Knowing time was of the essence, I climbed onto my skis to spread my weight out over the snow pack and eliminate the post holing. I finally extracted myself onto the trail without use of my left arm and made haste down the slope.
I found my companions at the exit of Beaver Pond Glade with their equipment off and getting ready to start hiking up to my last known location. Glad I was to have two companions ready to charge up hill to my rescue, but glad also to have not needed a rescue in the first place. We made our way back to the base area where Jay Peak Ski Patrol inspected the wound, put my arm in a sling, and sent me to the nearest hospital for treatment. I received a minor scolding for poaching a closed trail which was well warranted despite my forthrightness of where the accident happened and willingness to accept any repercussions for my actions. The patrollers felt my injury was sufficient enough repercussion and sent me on my way without further punishment. Before leaving for the hospital, one of the ski instructors did an inspection on my bindings and delivered some extremely ironic news: the toe piece of my front right binding was at DIN 7 whereas the rest of my bindings were at DIN 8. The accident had been caused by equipment not adjusted correctly. The irony goes deeper in that I had suffered three other pre-releases that day but the thought never occurred to me to inspect my bindings.
The Emergency Room at the hospital was getting ready for the “rush” as they called it. I was one of the first of many ski related injuries to appear that evening. X-rays revealed a shattered elbow which would require surgery. My arm was splinted and I was given a reference for an Orthopedic Surgeon in my area. Later in the week, I was brought into an Operating Room, knocked unconscious, and had two pins and a wire inserted into my right elbow to correct the break. A complete and full recovery with 100% range of motion is not certain, but I am expected to have mostly recovered from the injury within two to three months.
After surgery and three weeks of Physical Therapy, I have regained a large degree of motion with my elbow. I have recovered a little more than half of my extension and flexion with the most difficulty coming with the ends of the range of motion. Despite the two to three month recovery time, it could be a long while before I have (if I ever have) complete and full range of motion as I did before the accident. My return to skiing towards the end of the season will be slow given that I will not be able to fully weight a pole plant for some time or make aggressive arm motions required of more difficult and strenuous runs.
I am left to contemplate the accident and its ramifications. My first thought, one that weighs heavily on my mind whenever I think about missing three months of skiing, is that things could have been worse. I could have had a nervous system accident that sidelined me permanently from skiing. Worse yet, I could be dead. While breaking part of my elbow has been no picnic, it certainly could have been much worse.
I commented to one of the Ski Patrollers that maybe the accident was a good thing. Perhaps it was a moment or harsh reality for a 27 year old male pushing his physical limits in sport. Despite knowing my age and gender puts me in the prime demographic for injury and premature death, I still push boundaries and do things not altogether wise such as solo backcountry trips (even if the tour is an easy one) and thin cover skiing side country adventures. Will the accident cause second thoughts and perhaps a bit more caution? Absolutely. Will I stop seeking adrenaline rushes and challenging skiing adventures? Not a chance.
Of most concern and cause for introspection is the reason the accident occurred: an equipment failure. While the binding release could have been prevented by a pre-season inspection, the fact remains that the accident was not caused by a lack of skills, challenging terrain, or poor snow conditions but rather by something completely out of my control in that moment. Certainly not the way I had expected my first ever skiing injury to have occurred. The accident was not caused by sliding out of control in Tuckerman Ravine or running into a Lift Tower due to an uncontrollable slide on ice or getting in over my head in tight and steep trees. I was in my element skiing terrain I had mastery over in ideal conditions. A time and place I would never have expected an accident to occur especially for reasons out of my control in that moment. That observation is room for concern because it suggests that these accidents can occur at any time, not just where one would most expect them and for reasons no one would likely suspect. These thoughts and concerns are certainly reason to approach future skiing outings and back country trips with more caution and increased preparation for such accidents, most especially where I think they are least likely to occur. Certainly, my caution and respect for random accidents has substantially increased. Not that I ever believed I was risk free of injury while skiing, but you certainly don’t expect to receive a serious injury in certain situations, especially those conditions and terrain in which you have mastery over and are not extremely challenging.