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Todd Shymko's Story, in His Own Words

Contributor
By Contributor
May 10th, 2016

My name is Todd Shymko.  I’m 37 years old and have been snowboarding for over 25 years. I’m fit, active and have spent a reasonable amount of time in the outdoors since childhood, hiking, camping and snowshoeing. This is my story of  mistakes I made, and the results of those mistakes, and how Rossland Search and Rescue saved my life

I usually snowboard with a friend but on Thursday February 11th I set out on a three-day trip to Rossland alone. My good buddy with whom I normally ride  was busy with his family, it being Valentine’s Day weekend.  My plan was to stay four nights and ride three days.  I was pretty excited as it looked like conditions would be good.

I’d ridden Red Mountain before but only Red Mountain itself, not the rest of the resort.  My buddies who had been there before  suggested I stick to the  Grey Mountain/Kirkup Cat-skiing area for the type of  riding I enjoy most.

On Friday February 12th the weather was overcast and the fog was so thick I could barely see anything. I became somewhat familiar with the Grey chair but got bored and  returned to my hotel early, a little disappointed and grumpy, yet determined to return the next day. On Saturday February 13th it had snowed most of the night and the sky opened right up. It was a beautiful sunny day and I was hyped!  I arrived at the resort early and immediately went back to the Grey chair, riding up and chatting with a patroller.

I asked him, if he was me where would he go? He replied, “Go down that cat track and turn  right.” We parted ways at the top.  I put my headphones in and found the cat track I figured he was referring to. It seemed the only way to descend was to turn left, under a rope line. I didn’t think twice. I dropped over the backside of Grey Mountain into the upper Esling Creek drainage area, not knowing this area was a notorious trap and required a long hike out. I assumed incorrectly that if I cut hard right that I could duck back into the resort around the backside of the peak onto the run “Get Up Stand Up.” I was so wrong.

After about 15 minutes of fresh lines and dense trees I was starting to think that maybe something was off. I didn’t see any other tracks and couldn’t hear any other voices. My attempt to cut hard right had led me into a valley that seemed to head away from the resort but considering the steep terrain I had come down and the amount it had snowed, hiking back up didn’t seem like much fun. So I decided to try to ride the valley out to where I assumed the creek would eventually meet a road.

Once I could get a good view of this valley I realized that even if the creek did eventually lead me to a road, it wasn’t relatively close at all to where I needed to go, and the creek gully was becoming overgrown with brush and there were flat spots which made riding it any further very difficult. I needed to make a decision: either I would  try to hike back where I’d come from or I’d continue trying to ride the ravine out.

I tried hiking. It was steep and very tiring. Despite my best efforts I was making too little headway and was becoming exhausted very quickly. For a few minutes I thought I heard some voices and this calmed me. I tried yelling at them and I thought I heard them yell back but then I became embarrassed and thought I didn’t want to admit I was lost. I figured all I needed to do was keep hiking a little more. I was wrong — again.

Eventually I became so exhausted that I couldn’t hike anymore and I wasn’t seeing anything that made me think I was getting any closer to the resort. I became concerned. I looked at my phone and it was nearing 2:00 pm. I knew that soon the resort would be shutting down and I’d run out of sunlight. I decided to try the ravine once more but after several minutes of riding I had come close to falling into the actual creek several times and the brush was too thick and the terrain too flat. I was screwed.

I had told my brother that if I didn’t call in everyday at 4:00 pm to call the Ski Patrol and I had  faith that he would do that. (This proved to be the only somewhat wise decision had I made.)  Since I would  lose sunlight soon, I knew I should probably build some sort of shelter. I decided to build my camp up out of the creek valley underneath a tree that already provided me with good overhead shelter. I used my snowboard as a shovel and began to hollow out the underneath of that tree. I broke branches off the surrounding trees and made two piles. One pile of big leafy green branches and the other pile of dead dry/burnable. I did this for a long time until I was satisfied I could insulate the base of my shelter and enclose the remaining areas not naturally covered by my shelter. I built a horseshoe shaped snow wall around the base of my tree with branches laid around and over it to break the falling snow and cut down the wind. I also laid live branches down around the base of the tree to provide some insulation and keep me off the snow in hopes of staying warm.

I had no lighter, no knife, no water bottle and just one granola bar. I had no extra clothes except for a bad weather balaclava that one wears under a helmet. This one piece of clothing stayed relatively dry in my pants pocket and proved to be very valuable later as I’d become soaked with sweat from attempting to hike out and later from building my shelter. I was severely dehydrated. My urine was a dark brown color. Thinking that eating snow makes a person more dehydrated, I knew I needed to drink from the stream as much as possible. I made my way carefully down to the creek trying not to lose my footing or spend any more energy than absolutely necessary. Each footstep was treacherous as the snow was very deep. It was hard work. The other challenge was figuring out how to actually drink from the stream without falling in or getting a foot or hand totally soaked. I managed a pushup position over some rocks and drank as much as I could. I nearly fell into the creek a few times but it was a much needed drink and refreshing.

Not having a lighter I collected some river rocks thinking I would attempt various types of fire starting techniques. This proved to be impractical as my hands became nearly frozen. A fire would have improved my situation dramatically but it wasn’t possible.

Around 5:00 pm I lost sunlight completely. As the sun had set, I made a Will by video on my phone. With my shelter in the background I directed the division of my savings to my friends and loved ones and told my family that I loved them and was sorry. I’d left my phone in “Airplane” mode most of the day to maintain battery and had hoped if I could simply hike high enough the next day that I might reach cell phone signal and call for help.

Once the sun set completely the reality of my situation set in. I wasn’t quite exhausted or ready to sleep yet so I would get up occasionally and walk from my shelter towards the ravine and yell up into the valley where I’d come from, in the direction of the resort. I’d yell for a while and listen carefully for a reply. I heard nothing. As the temperature dropped I became more and more tired and attempted to sleep. I ate half of my granola bar, put on my balaclava and wrung out the inner liners of my gloves. Despite my best efforts to get comfortable in my shelter, no position worked. I would nearly fall asleep then suddenly start shaking uncontrollably. I tried propping myself up against the tree, I tried sleeping on my side, back and stomach. Nothing worked. I was really cold and miserable.

When the shivers became unbearable I’d get up and walk back to my yelling spot and make a few long “hellooooooooo’s” up into the valley. A few times I thought I saw lights in the distance but later it seemed like I was seeing glow bugs and decided I might be losing my mind. The last time I yelled into the valley a pack of wolves or coyotes answered from slightly below me in the ravine so I decided to stay quiet.

I must have gotten up at least 10 or 15 times during the night to  attempt to get warmer and move around. In between these little walks I managed to sleep a little. Finally the sun started to rise and I knew it was time to make a decision. It had snowed a fair amount overnight so I wasn’t confident that even if someone was looking for me that they’d be able to find my tracks. I knew that the valley below me didn’t lead to a highway or main road anywhere close as I didn’t hear any traffic all night. I decided my best bet was to start the long hike back toward the resort. Instead of hiking exactly the same line I’d ridden down, I wanted to hike a ridge so that the climb would be the least vertical and most rewarding in terms of gaining elevation and perspective. I climbed down to the creek for one last good drink and ate the last half of my granola bar.  Then I started hiking.

The snow was deep so the hiking was slow going. I developed a rhythm and method of using my snowboard as a anchor.  With both hands, I’d dig the edge in horizontally then pull myself up with my arms and two footsteps. In a one, two, three movement I made my way up that ridge. Stopping every once and a while to catch my breath and yell up into the valley or check my phone for a cell signal. The farther up the ridge I got the more screwed I’d realized I was. Not only was my hiking going much slower than I’d hoped for but from the limited info left on Google Maps I’d determined the ridge I was hiking was actually on the opposite side of the ravine from the resort. If I managed to get up high enough my thinking was that perhaps I could traverse the hill and get to the other side.

The sun would come and go, alternating with thick fog. The ridge I was hiking seemed to never end.  As soon as I thought I was nearing the top it seemed to extend even higher than the ridge I was hoping to traverse over to. I was so thirsty and was starting to eat snow again as I was peeing brown. It was around 2:00 pm when I checked my phone and while fairly high up that ridge I still had no cell-phone signal. I became frustrated. I knew the resort would once again close soon and now being in the alpine I had no easy source of water and wasn’t excited about building another shelter. I started to consider for the first time that I might not survive a second night in the mountains.

All of a sudden I heard what I thought was someone calling my name. I wasn’t certain so I stayed very still and listened very carefully. I yelled as loud as I could and then waited. Was I hearing my echo or was I hearing a reply? I didn’t know. Was I losing my mind, or was I hearing real voices — I wasn’t sure. Finally I was pretty certain I wasn’t just imagining voices, I could hear somebody calling my name. I replied “YES….it’s me!” and they replied “stay where you are!” I nearly cried.

The fog would come and go. I couldn’t see anything nor determine exactly where the voices had originated from but I was pretty sure they were on the opposite side of the ravine I was hiking — the resort side.

We played Marco-Polo for what seemed like a very frustrating hour in the dense fog until finally I was fairly certain their voices where coming from below me. I strapped on my snowboard and attempted to ride down to them. My intention was good but my legs and feet would not respond as I’d hoped and the riding was sloppy and I could barely stay on top of my board. I rode down into the ravine and saw two sets of fresh ski tracks and finally …. I saw two guys in red outfits. I yelled at them and they replied “stay there!”

I have never been so happy to see other humans in my whole life. I knew from that moment forward that I would probably survive. To say I was relieved is an understatement. These fellows made their way up to me and introduced themselves. They fed me, gave me water and tea, and reassured me I’d be fine. They immediately confirmed that my brother had in fact called ski patrol and told me they’d let him know I was found. They were ultra friendly and professional.

They had me sit down and relax while several other SAR volunteers made their way down to us with additional supplies, some snowshoes for me and some ski poles. They explained that we’d have to hike out as it was impossible to get a helicopter in with the fog. Somebody carried my board out for me and I was very excited to be leaving with a pack of SAR guys.

I think it took us 2 or 3 hours of hiking with moderate breaks as my legs were cramping up and I was simply exhausted. Eventually we made our way back up to the very top of Grey Mountain, almost to exactly the same spot where I had ducked under the rope. I took a few photos next to the sign that explains the area is dangerous and is not patrolled.

I thanked at least 20 volunteers at the top of the mountain, we skied down the mountain together despite being offered a sled ride (which I later regretted as my feet were so wet that my snowboarding boots had become extremely uncomfortable.) I made it down to the bottom where I was met by more staff and volunteers and they drove me to the command centre set up by Rossland SAR. They explained the efforts they’d made to find me. Over 50 people had given their time and resources and put themselves at risk to find me. I was moved beyond words. I tried to buy everyone dinner and drinks but I’d forgotten it was Valentine’s Day and most people had someplace to be.

I thanked everybody once again and was then driven to my truck which was now covered by a good layer of snow in the Red Mountain Resort parking lot with a note on my windshield asking me to contact the RCMP.

I immediately called my brother to thank him and made my way back to my hotel room where I finally stripped off my wet clothes, ordered pizza and drank beer. Beer had never tasted so good. My body was beat up so I treated myself to a dip in the hotel hot tub, then slept like a baby. The next morning I packed up my things and made my way home,  all the while considering how foolish I’d been and how lucky I was to be alive. It was a very humbling experience.

I have since been in touch with the Patroller whose directions I screwed up, to thank him for tipping off the SAR to where I might have ended up. I’ve donated money to the SAR and I’ve done my best to tell my story so that other people don’t make a series of foolish decisions which might put lives at risk.

Was it worth it? Absolutely not! Would you believe that the snow which had fallen during those two days I’d been lost had been some of the best snow I’d seen all season? Guess how much of it I got to ride?  Barely any. Although I did spend nearly two days hiking in it. Yeah!

Go out there with a partner, know the area, have a few emergency supplies with you, especially a lighter or good matches, and don’t duck the line unless you know exactly where you’re going. Never make any assumptions.

Thanks for reading this!

Todd Shymko

 

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