The Price of Survival

Another winter, another scare on Oregon's Mt. Hood. As three stranded climbers return safely home, a closer look at the economics of search and rescue.

Feb. 20, 2007 - This time, there was a happy ending. An emergency locator beacon and a four-year-old Labrador retriever named Velvet were credited with the survival of three stranded climbers on Oregon's tallest peak, Mt. Hood.

Velvet kept the crew warm after they fell off a cliff on the mountain's south face on Sunday and spent the night in below-freezing temperatures and 70 mile-per-hour gusts. The beacon, a radio transmitter that rents for $5 at a nearby outdoors shop, helped guide rescuers to Matty Bryant, 34, Kate Hanlon, 34, and Christine Redl, 26—Portland schoolteachers found in surprisingly good shape on Monday morning. Their story was a welcome contrast to the failed rescue attempt last December that left three out-of-state climbers dead after a widely pubicized, 11-day search. Only one of the bodies was recovered.
But with traffic exploding on Mt. Hood—about 10,000 people a year attempt to scale the 11,300-foot peak visible from downtown Portland—some nature-loving Oregonians are starting to ask the tough question: why should taxpayers be responsible for saving thrill-seekers, in some cases from their own folly?

"There's always a group of people who think, 'If we get lost or hurt, somebody will come and get us,' " says Ken Murphy, director of the Oregon Office of Emergency Management. Murphy's office helps local officials with the toughest searches, providing a Blackhawk helicopter that costs up to $2,000 per hour to operate. When paychecks for rescue personnel are factored in, even search-and-rescue operations that involve volunteers can cost cash-strapped local governments up to $6,000 an hour. "There are a lot of unseen, unknown costs," Murphy says.

Oregon is one of only three states with a law on the books requiring lost mountaineers to reimburse the government for search costs. But the cap is $500, and the fine can only be applied if the stranded climbers didn't exercise "reasonable care" to avoid the mishap. The teachers rescued Tuesday did everything right, authorities say. They brought plenty of warm clothing, sleeping bags, energy bars and climbing gear, plus a charged cell phone and two locator beacons. Plus, they filled out a climbing registry when they arrived, letting the rescuers know what their route was. But other weight-conscious day-trippers may bring only a fraction of that gear; that type of hiker typically monitors Mt. Hood's dynamic weather patterns with far less care.

The state fine is a punishment rarely levied, in part because it's tough to second-guess climbers: even the most experienced mountaineers can fall victim to a storm. There's also a fairly widespread sentiment among climbers and rescuers alike that it doesn't make sense to punish people for getting into that kind of trouble.
Phil Powers, executive director of the American Alpine Institute, said Oregon rescuers spent only 4 percent of their budgets annually on climbers, according to research the nonprofit group has conducted."Climbing rescues are more interesting," he said. "But you can spend more money trying to locate a lost hiker, where the terrain in which you're looking is much more vast. The big cost in rescue is search, not rescue." Last December, for example, searchers combed hundreds of square miles of the Siskiyou National Forest, searching for a San Francisco family who had gotten lost trying to cross the Coast Range. Rescuers found Kati Kim and her two children alive after spending nine days in the family car along a logging road, but her husband, James, perished while trying to hike out for help.
No one argues that those who are genuine victims of weather or road conditions should bear the cost of their own rescue. But the question is trickier for those who get into trouble as a result of recreation. Rosie O'Donnell made headlines the same month the Kims got lost for criticizing the high costs involved in the search for the three out-of-state climbers who eventually died on Mt. Hood. "What warrants 27 helicopters and 1,000 people looking?" she asked on the television show The View.

Forcing climbers to pay search-and-rescue costs isn't the answer, said Fran Sharp, president of the National Mountain Rescue Association, a nonprofit group established in 1958 at Mt. Hood's Timberline Lodge to coordinate teams across the country.

"The Coast Guard doesn't charge for rescues at sea," Sharp said. "All that would do is put us at more risk. People won't call in time. They'll wait longer. They'll get in more trouble."
About 10,000 people attempt to summit Mt. Hood each year, said Steve Rollins, a search leader for the Mountain Rescue Association, an all-volunteer group that spends its $30,000 annual budged on communications equipment. Between 2004 and this Monday, Rollins says his group had engaged in 15 rescue missions involving climbers. The number of deaths annually varies between one and three, with no marked increase in recent years. Rollins said 99 percent of the Monday rescue was a volunteer effort that cost taxpayers nothing.
Oregon Rep. John Lim introduced a bill this session that would require Mt. Hood climbers aiming higher than 10,000 feet to carry locator beacons, which transmit a radio signal to rescuers to pinpoint a stranded adventurer's location.
The Mountain Rescue Association opposes Lim's bill. The reason: beacons can give climbers a false sense of security—prompting more dangerous approach attempts. And they add weight, Rollins says, which can slow a climber down in an environment where speed getting on and off the mountain is one of the most important safety measures to consider.
"The climber equipped with the bare essentials is safer than someone carrying a tent, stove and sleeping bags," Rollins adds. "When you do mountaineering, you're literally counting grams."
The three climbers plucked from Hood's fierce winds on Monday are surely counting something else today: their blessings.