BEWARE THE IDEAS OF MARCH –THE STORY OF DOS BOZO’S – 03/15/1982

Memories are like nitro, you never know what is going to set one off.

It cut loose behind Linda DeJong, but with my eyes watching her glide across the chute, I didn’t see it coming. It knocked me off my anchor point. I started to cartwheel, hit some rocks, and continued sliding backwards. Then it got really smooth. As any surfer who has been sucked over the falls backwards, while paddling out on a big day knows, that is not a good the feeling. All I could think of was “Sayre, you have really fucked up this time!

But let’s back up to the beginning, and get the story through a few different lenses.

Rich Lober – 5:30 am – “I asked Reitman why there was no early call for a shoot? I had ridden my snowmobile to Main Lodge from Old Mammoth, as I did most days I worked. Even though there was minimal new snow, the wind had raged all night on 14th, and the wind transport was significant. 3-1 (Gary Reitman) looked at me with that typical smirk on his face, hands on his hips, and said “You knew this job would be tough when you took it”. Hardly any other patrollers were in the room yet. 3-1 told Steve Burns and myself to get up to Rodger’s Ridge, take a look, and ski cut it. When we got there, I went in about 15′, and the snow was thigh deep. I kick turned and got out of there. Burn’s didn’t want any part of it either. He called 3-1 for powder. The powder arrived about 40 minutes later. On the first shot, Rodger’s slid big, with a 3′ crown, all the way to comeback trail. We proceeded to the lower cliffs, and used our last two shots, with no major activity. As we were finishing up, the radio was going nuts. “Where is Sayre?” Within minutes several calls followed from Lincoln Mountain, Patrolman down!”

Nat Heit – “I showed up in the room around 6:15…and 3-1 said to suit up. He was putting together teams to go shoot and cut the upper cliffs area. I got paired up with Karl Chang. Sayre was partnered up with Linda DeJong. We caught a cat to mid-chalet and started on route with two shots each. I shot the closest cliffs to Rodger’s behind mid, they slid, and then all hell broke loose. Linda came over the radio asking Where is Sayre? It’s never a good sign when your cutting partner doesn’t know where you are. I can’t remember if there was a powder cloud or if someone from Lincoln saw the slide, but I figured he hadn’t made it to the Bear area and I was the only one close enough to get to him quickly if he was buried. It was a big year and there were two very skiable chutes in the Cliffs (I always wanted to ski them but it was a permanently closed area) and it had slid with the shots, so the quickest way was through the cliffs. To Karl’s dismay, I told him we had to cut the chutes, hang a right and look for Steve. I gave him the widest one, jumped into the Cliffs, watched him cut the chute, cut mine and stayed on as high a traverse as we could manage. Adrenaline was running pretty high but I hadn’t gone that far and there was Steve, in the snow up to his chest in snow. I radioed in that I had found him, the location, he was not buried, and conscious. I looked up at the cliff he had gone off in amazement. It was huge. When he saw me and asked if I was dead too, I knew he was conscious and Alert and Oriented by four. We were gonna be alright. I think I sent Karl down to guide people to us while I figured out what first aid was required. Access was difficult from the Comeback Trail and Steve wanted to get out of where we were, felt he could get down to the packed trail and get on a backboard there, so I helped him down to the run. By the time the (snow)dust settled, I was lucky to still be employed, the ass chewing was epic, traumatic and deserved. What doesn’t kill you makes you drink.”

Steve Sayre – “I woke up and looked around. I was sitting up, facing comeback trail, bleeding from a cut in my forehead, and dazed. Then I heard a familiar voice, “Steve! Steve! ” That familiar red hair was sticking out of all sides of his beanie and I recognized him. I said “Nat are you dead too?” We both started laughing. He asked if I was alright, and I answered, “Hell if I know…that has a serious beatdown.” I asked him how he got there. He said he skied through a chute in the cliffs to get to me. I could only shake my head in wonder. I started slowly moving around, and it felt like I had no broken bones or major trauma. Nat wrapped my head up to stop the bleeding and we looked around to try and figure out what really happened. Apparently, most of the slide came down ahead of me, and I landed in a large pillow of snow at the base of the cliffs. That gave me a very soft landing, with most of the slide debris travelling ahead of me. We both looked up at the cliffs behind me and estimated it was probably about a 30’+ ride, over the falls, in the air. Crap, all I could think was I was pretty damn lucky to be alive!

By this time the rescue attempt for me was in full swing. from Comeback Trail, to get a backboard up to me, and get me out of there. After watching this process go nowhere in a hurry, I stood up and tested if I could move and walk. It seemed like it was doable, although it was not the smartest choice. So Nat and I hiked down to everyone. They put me on a backboard, and prepared me for the long ride to Mammoth Hospital. By this time Jim Jacober, 3/4, had jumped on 3/1’s personal snowmobile “Darth” and rushed over to help. Unfortunately, he parked it behind a snow cat that was there for assistance. The cat backed over Darth on the way out, and it was ugly. Needless to say, 3/1 was not a happy camper that day, for many reasons. I spent the night in Mammoth Hospital for observation, and walked out the next day with four stiches in my eyebrow, and a compression fracture in my lower back.

A few thoughts: First, I would always rather be lucky than good. The bottom line is I screwed up. I got too low on my cut, and didn’t have as good an anchor point as I should have. That’s why I got smoked. A lot went wrong for a lot of patrolmen that day, but I own my mistakes.

Second, nothing is better than having a friend and coworker who would put his life on the line to rescue you. Nat – The Head Bozo – I am in your debt forever.

In these crazy times, I am so grateful for the time I spent on MMSP, and the lifelong friends I made there. To those of you still patrolling, be careful out there, and have your partners back.

Footnote: “The Ides of March” is from William Shakespeare – Julius Caesar. He was warned to be careful, and got killed by Brutus that day. Sherri Schmidt was the first to coin the phrase regarding that day. She was on dispatch that morning.

Memories are like nitro, you never know what is going to set one off. – And I am sure there are a lot of different memories about that day!

Steve “Esteban” Sayre