LAKE LOUISE, Alberta — The TransCanada Highway through Banff National Park now has six overpasses created specifically to allow safe passage by wildlife. But until last November, no wolverine had ever used one. They had used the smaller, narrower underpasses. But not those with the more scenic views.
How do they know, and why does it matter?
Both overpasses and underpasses are monitored by cameras, which record the passage of wildlife big enough to trigger the cameras. More than 200,000 crossings of grizzly and black bears, elk and other animals have been recorded.
It matters because, according to conservation biologists, wildlife species — like humans — fare best when they can roam a bit. Too much isolation weakens the genetic pool and makes those isolated populations more vulnerable to disease. Think of an inter-related family in a small town.
But the overpasses have been around for more than a decade. Why did it take one so long to use it?
"We don't know a lot about wolverines, but we do know there's a learning curve, which we've seen for grizzly bears and black bears as well," explains Tony Clevenger, a wildlife research biologist with the Western Transportation Institute. He notes that half of the 10 documented crossings — all but one in underpasses — have occurred in the last two years.
By whatever means, these crossings are good news, Clevenger told the Rocky Mountain Outlook. "Any time a wolverine crosses a highway is cause for celebration. Highways are fragmenters of habitat, and any time you can get across is good for the species."
Tree-well death still sparks questions
REVELSTOKE, B.C. — Exceptional snow poses an exceptional snow-riding danger: falling headfirst into a tree well or, for that matter, into a deep pile of snow.
Both happened last winter as nine people died in the United States and at least two more in British Columbia, among them Evan Donald.
In a lengthy article, The Revelstoke Times Review explains that Donald, who was 23 when he died, had grown up in New Brunswick and dreamed of moving to British Columbia and enjoying the backcountry. He succeeded, and worked at an inn that provided lodging for helicopter skiers. When a spare seat on a helicopter opened up, he jumped.
What exactly happened has never been publicly divulged. Canadian Mountain Holidays many years ago adopted a buddy system because of the danger of tree-well inversions. For some reason, the system failed that day. Customers didn't all have radios, either, although they do now. When his body was finally found, Donald was still alive but unconscious. He later died at a hospital.
The Times Review spoke with the victim's brother, Trevor Donald, who points to a largely self-regulated heli-skiing industry needing government regulation. He also shared frustrations with trying to find out what went wrong.
Police have been of little or no help. The Revelstoke RCMP didn't respond to a request for an interview, and because the investigation is still ongoing after almost a year, no coroner's report has been issued.
The Times Review spoke with Rob Rohn, director of mountain operations for CMH and also president of an industry association called Helicat Canada. Rohn, reports the Times Review, sees no value in government oversight. Although risk is inherent, prevention is the first order of business.
"The worst thing possible for our business is accidents," Rohn said. In addition to a buddy system, all customers get education about the dangers of tree-well immersions, he said.
Paul Baugher, ski patrol director at Washington State's Crystal Mountain, has become the chief advocate for education. He says he thought it a fluke when the first tree-well death happened at Crystal Mountain in the early 1990s, but when a second occurred a decade later; he set out to collect statistics, sketchy from 1970 but strong since 1990.
In most cases, the individual gets hung up in a tree well. But somewhat contrary to what you might think, it can be virtually impossible to get out, and the person most commonly suffocates in very short order, perhaps 20 minutes.
"It's really not about their feet," Baugher told Mountain Town News. "It's that their feet are up in the air and they can't get to them. They're compromised no matter what they have on their feet and can't get out."
About 70 per cent of what he calls "non-avalanche related snow-immersion deaths" occurs from people falling headfirst into tree wells. But about 30 per cent of the time — such as occurred last year at Howelsen Hill, a small ski area at Steamboat Springs — people simply auger down into deep snow.
Statistics show that snowboarders are no more vulnerable than skiers, despite the absence of releasable bindings.
In most cases, victims have been skiing with partners. But they become detached. "It's difficult to do pitches that are short enough (to stay in eye contact). But that is the key to anybody skiing in powder in a ski area, in the trees especially," sys Baugher.
All immersion deaths occur in the snowier west. British Columbia leads all states and provinces, followed by California, Colorado and Washington.
Last year, five people died in California, two in Montana, and one each in Colorado and Washington as a result of these two types of immersions. Baugher says he no longer is able to keep track of immersion deaths in British Columbia except in an anecdotal fashion.
For more about immersion deaths, see: www.treewelldeepsnowsafety.com.
Bag aids rider, but steep snow is scary
DILLON, Colo. — After virtually no snow, Colorado last week got dumped on. Naturally, the backcountry beckoned.
The Summit County News reports the case of a snowboarder who skirted death. The rider, a professional snowboarder, was caught in a Class 2 avalanche on a slope near Loveland Pass. The Colorado Avalanche Information Center rated the avalanche a 2 on a scale of 5. Even this smaller-intensity avalanche produces many fatalities, according to Ben Slivka, of the local rescue group. A level 5 means almost certain death.
Despite warnings of the considerable danger of avalanches that day, the professional snow rider set down the slope. What may have saved her was an air bag manufactured by Backcountry Access that inflated. "I felt like (I) was riding a mattress down the stairs," said the rider, Meesh Hytner. She also managed to keep her feet headed downhill and swam in the snow.
Monitoring Facebook commentary on the incident, the Daily News reports mixed reactions. "Wow, not a smart place to be," said one person. "You all need a life," responded another. "We all do sketchy things at times."
Slivka said the late snowpack has produced avalanches in areas that normally don't slide. One example is a slope on Quandary Peak, near Breckenridge, that hasn't run in at least 20 years.
"It won't get better until some of the areas rip to the ground and the snowpack starts all over again," says the Daily News.
While gizmos like transceivers and inflatable bags help, the best tool is not getting caught.
Sweat and participation stressed
VAIL, Colo. — The X Games has its somersaulting snowmobilers and their trickster snowboarders — and the 20,000 people who show up in Aspen to watch.
Now comes Vail with a new event this weekend, the Teva Winter Games. It has big air, too — including the prospect of 18–metre jumps by telemark skiers. But it's a lot different than the X Games.
The biggest difference is that while there are two key events geared for gawking at the professionals, most of the events are participatory — and involve sweat. Also, while the X Games are geared for television consumption and draw a decidedly young and single audience to Aspen, Vail's event is being pitched as more a family thing, with something for just about everyone, including a boot run (you have to be in ski boots).
The biggest participatory event is expected to be a run up the mountain, some 671 metres, whether in snowshoes, touring skis or whatever. In addition, there are on-snow biking and climbing events.
And similar to both Aspen and Whistler's Telus World Ski and Snowboard Festival, there are ancillary events; free concerts, films, and so on.
Of course, corporate names are all over the events: Teva, Eddie Bauer, Bud Light, and so on.
Dust Bowl film to be shown
TELLURIDE, Colo. — Again this year, documentary filmmaker Ken Burns will be premiering his new film at the Mountain Film Festival, the celebration of ideas and human spirit held each Memorial Day in Telluride.
In 2009, Burns first showed his films about the national parks, what he called "America's greatest idea." Now, his attention is on the Dust Bowl, the time in the 1930s when climatic variability combined with ill-advised farming practices on the Great Plains to create billowing walls of dust. The dust killed hundreds of people by damaging lungs in what is called dust pneumonia, similar to the black lung disease suffered by coal miners.
Burns likes the festival a great deal. "It reminds us of the force of filmmaking, about things that matter, worlds worth exploring, and conversations worth sustaining," he said.
