Battle in the Backcountry

Battle in the Backcountry

By: Jonathan Cracroft

Synopsis --

During filming on Thursday Feb 3, 2011, just outside of the Alta Ski Area, skier Jake Jennings came off a 15-foot face of rock while sending nearly 25 feet of air and landed almost directly on an old tree stump. The rate of speed he was going resulted in a swift impact of the stump. This caused a major compression in his back, which we later found out resulted in a fracture of his L1 vertebrae and a minor tailbone fracture. Jake spent the day in the hospital and was released later that night. He escaped without having to have surgery but will be in a “turtle” brace until early May.  I’m super bummed out as Jake is one of my best friends and favorite ski buddies, but I’m grateful that it wasn’t any worse and we’ll be able to ski together again.

After a lull in snowfall over the past several weeks, it was nice to finally receive a shot of cold Utah powder at Alta, totaling nearly 14 inches. Jake Jennings is a close friend and local ski athlete.  We were discussing throughout the week which days we could get out for our regular mountain therapy and a little filming.  I had been feeling a little under the weather and already been busy early in the week with other projects so it took until Thursday to get the green light on skiing. We decided to get up at dawn and try to catch an early chair at Alta Thursday morning.  After talking to the two right people at the Alta administrative office our plan came together. We met up with local athlete Luke Perin who Jake and I had skied with once prior.  The chair ride up was beautiful; the dark blue sky seemed to accent the glowing white mountains as it does on those prized sunny mornings. The air was cold, but not nearly as cold as the two days prior, with lows down to 15 below zero. The wind was blowing light and consistently through the trees and on the ridges.

We reached the Supreme chairlift just a few minutes ahead of the lifties. As we eagerly awaited their arrival at the abandoned lift base we made conversation while taking in our incredible surroundings. I took the opportunity to snap a couple shots of the morning light pronouncing itself on the rest of Little Cottonwood Canyon. After a short delay, the lifties arrived and the motors above the bullhorn began to hum. Soon we were off to the top the mountain and headed to escape into the seemingly endless terrain of the Wasatch Mountains. Traversing into the Dry Fork area, and what's become one of my favorite places to shoot over the past few years, we entered the boundaries of the "Gargoyles." This pristine ridgeline of juxtaposed metamorphic features, offers a snowy, picturesque view that rivals the best of the best.

As we arrived at the first set of cornices, known here as the "gargoyles," I took one glance and composed my first shots of the day.  I visualized a skier banking a graduale left turn off the near cornice and just infront of a whispy pine.  As he took off into the air, the snow gathered by his skis on the approach would leave a trail in the air behind him, catching the low beaming light on the morning sun, and just momentarily leave a glittering trace through the sky as he shot for his landing. The background staggered with cartoon-like mounds of snow resting on the undulating angles behind him and would nicely complement the action in the foreground. This would be a magnificent image.

Luke volunteered to be the first. We discussed the options, talked about the framing of the shot, made a plan and went for it.  Luke took to the air with style and landed nicely onto the firmer than expected, but steep, landing.  He quickly skied to the side to start his ascent back to the ridge for another lap.  

I asked Jake if he wanted to do the same, knowing that I could get another great shot. He took a minute to scope it out. Again we discussed the options for entry, the take-off points, the amount of speed needed, the airtime and subsequently the landing. What we didn't do, and which never even came to mind, was to probe the landing. During the early months of the year, caution is used by probing landings, scouting and thoroughly discussing the risks of each jump. Being early February, having a great amount of preseason snowfall and skiing on the leeward side of the ridge, with lots of blown-in and sheltered snow, that thought didn't even cross my mind. If it crossed Jake’s mind, I didn't hear about it.  We proceeded with the shot and began the count down. With the camera ready and Jake in position the go-ahead was given. "Dropping in 5," Jake said.  I pulled the camera close to my eye and rested my finger on the shutter release in anticipation of the motion to follow. 

What happened during the next seven seconds would change the three of us forever. Jake moved down the fluted ridge towards the take off, directly on point he sped off the edge of the mountain, pulled up nicely into a styled-out skier tuck and pointed his skis into the air. For two full seconds he moved through the frame.  I kept the camera in its respective position, trying to capture as many frames of the same composition as possible. Jake finished flying through the viewfinder of the camera and landed. I quickly shifted my eye from the view inside my camera to the view outside.  I witnessed then what none of use expected, and something I wish I could rewind and avoid completely.

Jake landed in snow, but not enough. He quickly uncovered an old decaying, but consequently deeply frozen, tree stump. Compression through his spine immediately followed with little to no give from the snow that preceded. The shock from the compression sent a violent spasm through his body, pegging him straight as an arrow, like a Nordic jumper leaning into his calculated flight, as he bounced and flipped into a tumbling fall. 

The sound of landing in deep backcountry snow is usually a welcomed tone and often elating. Ideally the pronounced swoosh moves its way through the air as the snow absorbs the force of the skis and body. The powder quickly surges off in whatever direction it can escape and the whisper of the snow reacting to the force lightly resonates in the air. This landing however, was very different. The sound was bullish and rough as if a bag of cement was being dropped from a roof onto a driveway. I hated hearing the sound this starkly different tone broadcast around us.  It was harsh and crushing, like a linebacker taking down a running back at full sprint at the line of scrimmage. 

My heart sunk. I knew something was wrong. I paused for a second. I looked at the landing, then at Jake, then at the landing again. I looked at Luke. I looked back at the landing.  I couldn't see anything but white and a thin brown strip of what appeared to be a pine branch in the landing. I looked back at Jake.  "What's up? Are you okay?"  Not knowing that he hit anything other than snow I was confused to what actually happened, and my mind started racing as to the possibilities and more importantly, what to do next. I waited a couple more seconds. "Jake, what can I do to help?" --  "Give me a minute," he replied.  He tried to stand up and like a rag doll tumbled downhill onto his side letting out another expression of anguish.

At that point I knew I was needed. Earlier I had left my skies on the ridge and boot-packed down to the spot I planned to shoot the photograph from. Knowing that my timing was critical I quickly made my way to Jake without my ski gear. I released his bindings from his boots and helped him straighten out his legs.  Having very little, but at least some, medial experience I did what I could to help stabilize him and make him more comfortable. I asked him where his pain was, and how intense it was. I encouraged him to lay still. Being a talented, tough and resilient guy he grudgingly replied with some groans. I could tell he wanted to give it a minute and see if he could walk it off. Perhaps he could push off closer evaluation until we got down to the bottom. He was breathing, mostly coherent and to my best evaluation stable for the time being. I knew I needed more help so I called the first person that came to mind, our friend and Jake's roommate, Dave Sutherland, who is a search and rescue volunteer, a ski patroller for Park City Mountain Resort and a fourth year medical student about to start residency as an ER doctor. Seemed like a good fit, and luckily he answered. He gave me some instruction over the phone to help pinpoint Jake’s pain and symptoms. We discussed options and agreed to stay in touch. I then called Alta Central and reported the accident. They put me in touch with Alta Ski Patrol who would shortly thereafter send patrollers to help aid us in the evacuation. As a backup the Air-Med helicopter was called to be on standby and ended up actually flying a couple recon laps over-head to evaluate a potential heli-lift.

As the patrollers arrived and organized into a team, a game plan was made to further stabilize Jake with a neck brace, backboard and a fold-up body sled in order to hoist him up over the steep ridge and back into Alta boundaries. It took all of us to transport him the couple hundred yards to the top of the ridge. With a full team of capable and humble patrollers, collectively we arrived to the top of the ridge. From there Jake was placed in a toboggan and transported to the Alta Clinic to see Dr. Ken.

Luke and I arrived to the clinic shortly after Jake and anxiously awaited the doctors prognosis. Results from the X-ray indicated a fracture in the L1 vertebral body, and possibly some muscle damage lower near the sacral vertebrae. Concerned for his current stability, and vulnerability of further injury, Jake was transported to the University of Utah trauma unit via ambulance for further assessment by a specialist. With great care and support from the medical staff, Jake underwent further examination with the aid of CT scan and later an MRI scan, which settled the doctors concerns the damage was treatable without surgery. Jake was treated with a thorasic lumbar sacral orthosis (TLSO) brace, which he will bear for the next three months. Unfortunately, he was advised and instructed to lay off any exercise for the next three months and any major activities for a total of six months. Being as active as he is, this has been pretty heavy news.  But I’m confident that the same tenacity that has led him to such an adventurous and active life will help him quickly and thoroughly heal and return to the sports he loves with full strength…and possibly a healthy disposition to caution. 

End Note –

We realized that we were deliberately headed out of bounds to ski and film and that there are inherent risks associated with that activity. Additionally, we realized that Alta Ski Area and the patrollers working that day had no obligation to help us. That said, I express my personal appreciation for the service we were given and I know that Jake feels the same way and did his best to make that point known. The patrollers showed great poise, control, organization and teamwork as they worked hard to get Jake to help as quickly as possible.  I'm grateful for their service.  I'm also grateful for skiing in my life, it's something i love deeply and being in the mountains, especially with good friends, brings me a true sense of happiness, clarity, and reminder what life's really about. I hope to be able to enjoy these feelings until I'm an old old man.  May this be just a small bump in the road and learning moment for us all.

-Jonny