A true-life cautionary tale by Mario Locatelli
I moved from Salem, Oregon to Hamilton 51 years ago. During my time here in the Bitterroot, I was part of Search & Rescue for 21 years. While a member of Search & Rescue, I met many people whom I became good friends with, including Harry Bass who was in charge of the team, Gene Wenzel, a former chiropractor and founder of the Montana Bow Hunters Association (MBA), and Dick Robinson. During one unforgettable year on Search & Rescue, I would be tested to my limit as well as escaping one of the scariest life or death experiences I have ever had. It began when Dick approached me, stating that he wanted to learn to Alpine ski. I volunteered to take him out and teach him. Only a few months prior, my daughter Cathy and I had taken an avalanche course which would prove to be fortuitous.
On February 28, 1981, Dick and I decided to go down to Camas Drainage, driving Dick’s two-wheel drive Datsun. We ended up having to park it and hike because the Datsun couldn’t make it any further. We began hiking up the field when I spotted a field nearby that appeared to be a risk for an avalanche. I warned Dick that we needed to stay away from that area and we continued hiking along the ridge. Dick became worried that it was too steep. I looked around and saw a big boulder hanging off the ridge and felt like I needed to make a quick decision so I decided we should drop down below the bounder and come back up along the ridge. That would prove to be my biggest mistake. If I had it to do all over, I would have told Dick to take off his skis and continue to hike the ridge above the boulder.
Shortly after hiking below the boulder, an avalanche started. I quickly noted three small trees about 10 feet from me and tried to make it to them. As luck would have it, I was unable to reach them which may have saved me from being buried beneath the avalanche just as those trees were, and so was Dick. When I looked up the mountain, I saw one of his skis and a little bit of his pant leg sticking up out of the snow. The pack I had been carrying, which contained two shovels among other gear, was pulled from my body and swept away with the snow. I quickly made my way up to him and began to dig him out with my hands. I begged for God to help me. After much work, I was finally able to drag him out of the snow. Dick cried out, “I’m cold, I’m cold.” When I told him we needed to start a fire, he begged me to drag him to a safer area but I told him I couldn’t drag him because he would develop hypothermia.
I never hiked with my wallet but that day, by the grace of God, I had my wallet and matches in my pocket and was able to use three $1 bills to get a fire going. After that, I told Dick I needed to go for help. Dick didn’t want me to go and initially asked me to stay. Soon, though, he realized that we needed help and I should go. I told him to be careful not to roll into the fire and quickly took off down the mountain. Once I made it to the road where Dick’s Datsun was, I quickly learned a lesson I have never forgotten. Because we pulled straight in when I parked, it was difficult to get the vehicle out of the area and instead took me 15 minutes of valuable time to get it turned around and back on the road. From that moment on, I vowed to always leave my vehicle parked facing toward my exit.
I drove to the first house I came across and had the homeowner call the Sheriff who then dispatched Search & Rescue. When they arrived, we returned to Camas Drainage to find Dick. One of the Search & Rescue members, Jim Highland, from Darby, was there helping along with an ambulance medic named Norm. Together, we started up the mountain but quickly noticed that someone had followed my tracks coming down the mountain. We know that it had to be Dick and that he had made it back down safely to the road where Search & Rescue had built a fire on the roadside. About that time I received a call stating, “Dick is here! He is here!” It was the best gift anybody could have ever given me! Once home safe and sound, I received a Humanitarian Award from the MBA. The award brought me so much pride, but knowing that my friend Dick and I made it out alive and safe was the best gift of all.
Mario Locatelli, 89, also known as “The Mountain Goat” is the author of several books on hiking and skiing in the backcountry.
Tim says
Mario, just wanted to let you know that I’ve read your books and use them for guidance religiously when my wife and l hike the drainages. We find them very informative and love reading about your experiences in the back country of the Bitteroot.Mountains. Your an inspiration to all who love to explore this great place. You are truly a “Mountain Goat!!
Larry says
Mario good sir, you are a living leagand. This valley has changed in so many ways sometimes at what feels like break neck speed. But the one constant is the inspiration and drive of the the people like yourself and my mentor Jerome Hammond, and many others that will always continue to be a constant compass for me and hopefully many others long after we are all gone.. When I moved here as a young 25 year old punk in 95 from New York to The West Fork I had no idea what I wanted other than change. And change is exactly what I got. From the conversations and amazing adventure stories like the one above the young punk was eventually shaped into the young man I am today. I feel privileged to have been able to not only met you but also gained enough of your respect to get a call from you to come build a stone surround at your house.. That in itself was an opportunity I saw as a chance to learn and be highly entertained as well as a paying job. Needless to say I was not disappointed. Hopefully both Yours and Jerome’s Tim Michael s and others stories will be written so the young punks of the future will find inspiration from them too. Thanks Super Mario ,a true Goat of the Valley!