the inquisitive techie

Yesterday was a gorgeous day to ski.  warm, bluebird skies, wonderful snow, and I was spending it skiing with my kids.

I left skiing behind, to go to work in the early afternoon, unfortunately.  A friend had offered to drop the boys off on her way home, and the boys wanted to ski more, so I took her up on the offer.  I packed my skis, headed back to the city, and gave up a great afternoon of skiing.  I was nearly 20 minutes away from Kissing Bridge, when my cell phone rang.  It was my 10 year old son, Oliver.  He was screaming and sobbing into the phone.  I could barely understand

“Oliver, what happened?” I asked, figuring that he had been fighting again with his nearly 13 year old brother, a common occurrence around my house these days.  It took me nearly two minutes to get him to calm down enough to get the following out of him…

“I.. am hanging… to a tree… side of a cliff… skied into a trail we made off World of Your Own…  DAD! come get me!”  and then he completely fell apart.  He was simply sobbing, and moaning.  He was completely terrified.  Oliver is rarely frightened.  He’s more of an adventurous kid than his more reserved brother.

“Oliver I need to hang up and call ski patrol”.  This does not go over well, and I need to convince him that I will call him right back.  “I am coming to get you too, I have my skis in the car. I will come get you if they don’t”  This is a meaningless promise, since I know they will find him long before I get there.  But it helps him over  the hump.

“OK.”  he mutters, and hangs up first. I suspect he did this to get the separation over with.  Like pulling a band aid.

I call the KB switchboard, am put through, and promptly get a response from the ski patroller on duty.  I also finish pumping my gas, and get in the car to drive back to the ski area.

“My son is stuck on the side of the ravine between World and Moment of Truth.  He’s 10 and he’s really scared.  He says he fell, and he’s maybe hurt, and he’s in trouble for skiing in the woods, and…”  She cuts me off…

“We are on the way.  Call him back and tell him we will be right there”.

“I don’t have a chance to, he’s already calling again.”

“good sir, take his call.  goodbye.”

“When are they coming?  This is really high up.”

“How high is it Oliver?”  I ask and immediately am regretful. 

“as high as the house”  …twenty feet.  OK.  change the subject dummy.

I think, and change the subject, a little…  “how did you get down there Max?”

Oliver Maxwell spins me a tale of he and his brother cutting new trails through the woods, with two friends, Ryan and Patrick.  He got mixed up, then he fell, got spun around, and fell again.  This last fall took him over the edge of the ravine, about 20 feet down from the top.  He was half way down. About 10 minutes have passed, and he is getting scared again.

“Are they coming Dad?”  he mumbles, and he starts to sob again.

“Yes Oliver, just listen for them.  The lift ride is seven minutes and they have to find you. They should be there any minute.”  almost 5 more minutes go by, as the ski patrol struggles to get to him via snowmobile.  He is in the steepest part of the hill.  The ski patrollers are hiking into the woods to find him.

calm returns to his voice immediately.  “They are here.  YES!  DOWN HERE!!  Its a girl dad, a lady.  HELP!  OK. She’s climbing down here.  YES. OK.  Dad, I gotta go.”

Really?

I simply say “OK call me back…”  and I hang up, a  little stunned.

Five whole minutes go by.  OK come on now, he’s just off the side of World, grab the kid, and have him call me already.

A strange number comes up on my cell phone, and I answerit immediately.

“Mr. Kirsch, this is the ski patrol, we have your son, and he’s safe. here he is…”

“hi dad.”

“hi Max.  you OK?

“yup”  and he hands the phone back to the patroller”

“Can you meet us at the ski patrol at Central?”

“I am already here (there?). “  I respond.  Remember,  I had been driving back to the area the whole time, and I knew where they would end up.

“Thank you!”

Now that Max was safe, I turn my thoughts to my older son, William.  He has not yet turned up, and I continue calling his cell.  No answer from him for well over an hour now.  I am now angry with William.  He had left his brother in the woods.  Always stick together if you are going into the woods was the rule.  Never leave anyone behind – my boys have been drilled with for many years with this dictum.  I figured I couldn’t stop them from skiing in the woods.  But they had to be safe.

I am distracted quickly though, as Max comes rolling in on a utility cart looking very soggy in a T-shirt and wrapped in a blanket or two.  He is extremely pale and shaking violently.  The ski patrollers hustle him inside and bring him warm blankets.  Seven more ski patrollers appear immediately, and tend to his physical,  and his emotional needs.

“vitals?”

“want some cocoa buddy?  water?  another blanket”  …these were serious medical trainees, and moms all at the same time.  Ski patrollers that worked the day shift were often moms skiing while their kids were in school.

“his pulse is really fast.”  “He’s still very frightened, and a bit taken back by all the attention”.  I suspect that the ski patrol at the small ski area gets a lot of injuries, but not too many genuine alpine type rescues.

The ski patrollers who actually pull Max off the side of the ravine come in, red faced and clearly stoked.  They are two middle aged moms, probably skiing their patrol shift while their own kids were out skiing.  Most ski patrollers ski so their families can ski for free, a great perk for them.

“…and she roped in, and climbed down, and tied him in, and I pulled him up the wall…”  One patroller conveyed to the collection of people in the room.   “She was like Spiderman, or Batman or something.  It was awesome.”

I listen to her recount the story, and I am impressed.  The patroller had climbed down the ravine to tie my son in, and climbed back out herself.  In ski boots.  She was still brushing snow from her coat and pant legs as she confirmed the story.  Her cheeks were still flushed, and she was a bit shy.

Then she surprised me. “we both cried once we got back on the chairlift afterwards.  Oh my gosh, he was so scared”  She was totally, a mom.  That’s why she did it.  She wiped another tear as she relived the moment.  Her smile quickly returned as she glanced over at my son, now laughing and warming up under three recently heated blankets.

“he was so scared.”

His friends had now filtered in and made sure he was OK.  The ski patrol was doing paperwork now.

“name – Oliver Maxwell Kirsch – who were you skiing with?”  Another of the gathered ski patrol was interviewing Max, and I was chatting with the rescuers, getting more details…

“He was just standing on top of a tree.  Balanced on his skis over the creekbed.  It was frozen solid.”  Max confirms this, now smiling, as his interview continues.

“my brother, Ryan, and Patrick…”  I start thinking and realize that I have not yet heard back from Will, who I suspect has been dodging calls, since he ditched his brother.  I am quite certain that he is just hiding.

The ski patroller completing the form turns to me.

“have you heard from him?  they were skiing in the same area.”

Ryan’s dad, had been in, and I knew that he had not heard from his son, either.  He walked in almost immedately afterwards and I send he to gather our other friends, and send them all out to look for Will, Ryan and Pat.  It’s been over an hour since Max called me, and nobody has heard from or seen the other three boys for almost an hour and a half now.

A bunch of the ski patrollers who were now getting bored offer to go check the area the boys were skiing to be safe, dress, gear up, and leave.  It was a good excuse to ski.  And it was warm inside. They were all laughing.

another half hour goes by, and now the lifties are watching for the boys, announcements have been made on the PA, and the ski patrol has sent out another 5 or 6 patrollers to look in the area and check the ravine again. I pretend not to be concerned, and chat with friends via text.

All of our friends are checking, well, everywhere, for the boys.  no sign of them.  come on, this is Kissing Bridge folks, not Aspen, they have to turn up.  Soon.

It’s been an hour since we started looking for the lost boys, and people in the patrol room are now looking genuinely concerned.  It’s been over two hours since anyone has seen them, lots of people are looking for them, and the last place they were seen was in the woods.  I have called Will’s cell twenty times, and it rings, but no answer. They are firmly missing.

And then simply after another half hour spent staring at my cell phone, a friends Mom calls.  “we have them.  they are safe.  all three.  come to North.” I thank her and hang up quickly.

I immediately tell the ski patrol they are at North and safe, and run out the door, taking Max and our friend Bailey with me.  We bounce down the access road on the way over and jog up the stairs to North.

William is standing staring at his boots leaning on his skis as I reach the top of the steps and exit the covered stairway.  He has now been briefed on the details of the involvement by the ski patrol, of their rope rescue.  He knows he was not with his brother, and he knows full well, that I am going to be angry with him for leaving his brother.

“where were you.”  I demand of him.

“at South, making trails in the woods.”  He had been skiing, and he had no idea anyone was even looking for him.

“my cell broke.  I need a new one.”   He demanded of me.  Huh?

“you left your brother.”  I ignored him.

“we told him that if we got separated, meet to South” .  Max quickly attests to this.  They had lived within the spirit of the law, by informing each other of a rendezvous.  But they knew that they were BOTH guilty of splitting up now.

“No.”  I simply state “you left him.”  Big brother should have known better.  And the little one had to be rescued.  He was somehow less guilty.

I stamp off into the lodge to collect their ski bags.  Will follows me, pleading his case.

“he knew where we were.  we didn’t ditch him.”

“Will, he almost ended up at the bottom of the ravine, because we was skiing alone in the woods.  you left him.  If you goofballs are going to ski in the woods you have to stay together.  You know that.  You didn’t do it, and because of that your brother had to be rescued by ski patrol.”

William is a rule follower off the ski slopes.  Teachers love him, because he is compliant, a compulsive good kid.  The weight of the mistake hits him, suddenly.

“Oh.”  he mumbles and sits down.

“get your gear and lets go.”  I bark

The drive home was silent.  Everyone was a bit drained.  We offloaded the skis and gear, and split up.  Max headed up to change, Will headed up and started the shower, and I headed to my office to sit alone for a moment.  I didnt even notice when Will come down.

“…hug?”  He was shaking, in his soaking wet underclothes.

I grabbed him and held him tight.  He was ice cold.

“you scared me, Will.  Not a lot.  But you did scare me.”

“I know.  sorry.”

He had learned.  He gave me one last squeeze and headed off to empty the hot water tank.

The boys bounced back quickly, once fed and warmed in front of a movie.  Snacks were properly administered and certainly seemed to help.

Hopefully we all learned a little bit from it.