Ski patroller wouldn't give up, despite deep snow and darkness

By RICHARD HANNERS - Whitefish Pilot

A Missoula woman who skied out-of-bounds at White-fish Mountain Resort on Christmas Eve spent about five hours lost in deep snow before initial help arrived.

Kasey Joyce, a reporter for KECI-TV, was located by ski patrolman David Stephens about 8:30 p.m. She had left her two Whitefish friends about 3:15 p.m. while skiing down the Gray Wolf run on Big Mountain's back side and accidentally continued on downhill further and further out-of-bounds.

"I've been skiing in Colo-rado since I was three," she said. "I'm comfortable skiing most stuff on the mountain, but this was our first run of the day, and I didn't really want to start out in the trees. But the people I was with took off in the trees off Gray Wolf and I didn't know where else to go, so I followed. They skied ahead and I lost them. Apparently they turned back for the run, but I kept following the tracks that went down the mountain."

At one point, she crossed the Canyon Creek snowmobile trail and continued downhill into a steep ravine with deep snow, ski resort spokesman Donnie Clapp said.

"I kept looking for a clearing to see how to get back to the run, but I couldn't see anything, so I thought I should just head down the mountain," Joyce said. "The only problem with that logic was that there was a huge gully in the way."

Joyce soon found herself in chest-deep powder near a creek.

"The powder was so deep I wasn't getting anywhere, so I took off my skis and tried to go on foot," she said. "That was worthless. I just sunk. I put my skis back on but didn't get anywhere, so I decided to ditch the skis again and try to climb tree limbs to get high enough on the gully that I could get cell phone reception and call 911."

With no cell service and the sun setting behind Big Mountain, Joyce decided to hunker down in one area and hope rescuers would eventually find her.

"I burrowed into a little spot under a tree in some snow and started screaming for help," she said. "I probably started yelling at 3:45 and yelled every minute or so. Somewhere during that time, I started throwing up and got a pounding headache — probably from the fear, stress and yelling."

Joyce's friends had notified the ski patrol right away, and eight patrollers looked for her while they conducted their normal sweep about 3:30-4 p.m. The patrollers also searched part of the Canyon Creek area but found no signs of the missing skier.

Stephens, however, went back for a snowmobile and began cruising the Canyon Creek snowmobile trail. He found a set of ski tracks heading north about 5 p.m. The snow was too deep for him to break trail, but he located a snowmobile track paralleling the ski tracks and headed into the area of the steep ravine.

Around 6 p.m., Stephens heard Joyce's calls for help, but they were faint as he was on the opposite side of the ravine, Clapp said. Realizing he couldn't get the snowmobile across the ravine, Stephens returned to the patrol shack at the summit and made a rescue plan with patrol director Tary King.

Stephens returned to the area with skis and a backpack containing a sleeping bag, hot packs and food. He skied along Joyce's tracks, which were getting covered by snow and obscured by darkness, and reached her by 8:30 p.m. He started a fire to warm her up and contacted other rescuers by radio.

"He immediately took care of me and tried to get me warm," Joyce said. "He was absolutely great. He made me feel safe and as comfortable as you can be stuck on a mountain for several hours."

"She was cold, wet and hoarse and pretty shaken up," Clapp said, "but by the time two members of the Nordic Ski Patrol arrived, she was warm, dry and in good shape."

Getting Joyce out of there proved to be difficult because of the steep terrain, thick brush and deep snow. Whitefish Mountain Resort brought a groomer down to break a trail, but it had to operate on the opposite side of the ravine from Joyce.

Joyce was able to ski and snowshoe across the ravine, where she was loaded onto the groomer and taken to the resort's clinic shortly after midnight.

"I kept apologizing for dragging them all out on Christmas Eve and ruining their holiday, but they were all so wonderful," Joyce said. "They told me to stop saying sorry, that this is what they do. While we were waiting, someone asked me what I was getting for Christmas. I turned to him and said, 'Rescued.'"

Clapp reminds skiers and snowboarders who ski off groomed runs to remain in sight of their friends and, if traveling out-of-bounds, carry appropriate avalanche gear. Joyce echoes that reminder.

"I was stupid to go skiing out-of-bounds in an area I didn't really know," she said. "My friends shouldn't have skied off ahead of me, but once I lost sight of them, I should have just headed back the way I came."

She also said she should have been better prepared.

"I have since put a whistle on my ski jacket and studied the trail map," she said. "I tell all my friends to ski with a whistle now."

Joyce said one of the friends she was skiing with apologized the next day.

"He said this really changed the way he thinks," she said. "He's a local and said he always goes up and takes people up on the mountain and skis all over, without thinking twice. He never thought about the obligation he had as a local to make sure he wasn't leading me astray. I agree with him to an extent, but in the end, I was the one who skied into the gully. Most of the responsibility is mine."

Joyce also has something to say about the Big Mountain Ski Patrol and the Nordic Ski Patrol.

"They are extremely professional and do an outstanding job," she said. "If you are ever unfortunate enough to get lost on the mountain, I can honestly say you will have the best of the best out there looking for you — and they won't give up."