Avalanches and risk
I have long been afraid of avalanches. I don’t ski at all and never have, so my danger from the phenomenon is basically nil. But it’s a primal fear nonetheless, perhaps from movies.
That’s one of the reasons the news of nine people dead in an avalanche while back-country skiing in the Tahoe area filled me with dread and sorrow. Such young, vibrant people, their lives snuffed out in an instant – although such deaths are usually not instantaneous. The news reports didn’t tell us some things I’d like to know, such as whether they were all skiing at once, and where the survivors were positioned that allowed them to live, and why the decision was made to go despite avalanche warnings.
There was also a less-publicized death but no less horrible, of an 11-year-old girl in Utah, killed in another avalanche while back-country skiing with her family, and another in Utah of a father who was snowmobiling with his son. In both cases, family members tried to dig out the victims, but didn’t manage to save their lives. One can imagine the frantic desperate efforts, the terrible feelings of failure and grief and perhaps guilt.
Why do people engage in such activities? That’s not hard to imagine: it is beautiful in the mountains in winter, and ski resort areas can be terribly crowded. For a lover of nature, mountains, and outdoor activities in snow, back-country activities have a huge draw. And we all do plenty of other seemingly risky things, such as driving.
Then I learned that there have been many avalanche-related deaths in the Alps this year, and that although the number is high, the numbers are usually high (or what I would consider high):
Though the recent spike in avalanche deaths in Europe is worrying, it is not exceptional – according to European Avalanche Warning Services, 95 have died so far this season, compared to 70 in the whole of 2024-25 and 87 in 2023-24. The 2020-21 season, when 131 died, and 2017-18, when the figure was 147, seem comparable.
The articles I’ve read on the European deaths haven’t broken down the figures for back-country deaths, but my guess is that almost all are of that type. Here’s a video that goes into how and why avalanches occur, and how ski resorts prevent or at least reduce their occurrence. The second video is about the Alps avalanche deaths:
It seems to me that back-country skiing has increased in recent years, and that is the case (the article is from a year ago]:
Backcountry skiing has surged in popularity since the pandemic, but those wishing to leave the relative safety of busy resorts can find themselves at the mercy of an unforgiving wilderness. If something goes wrong — as it often does, with avalanches a constant threat — skiers do not have a first-aid team nearby, and rescue can take hours.
And yet Ennen, from Park City, Utah, says the peaceful isolation found up remote mountains is preferable by far to being stuck in lengthy lines at resorts, and he is willing to embrace risk for a sense of freedom.
“I love being in the mountains and surrounded by nature,” said Ennen, a 45-year-old cardiac anaesthesiologist. “It’s my time for my brain to relax and to decompress from the real world. When you’re skiing in a resort, you’re in a controlled environment but with an uncontrolled group of people.
“The backcountry is the opposite. You’re with a controlled group of people, your team, but in a very uncontrolled environment.”
It’s a decision an increasing number of people have been making. Advances in avalanche-related equipment, such as beacons, have probably helped give a sense of security- perhaps a false one? The Tahoe skiiers were thus equipped. In terms of relative risk, though, I don’t know what the figures are and I’m not sure there are figures for how many people back-country ski these days.
Writing this post made me think of the last verse of this poem by Emily Dickinson, which goes like this:
This is the Hour of Lead –
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow –
First – Chill – then Stupor – then the letting go –
RIP.
Re: Emily Dickinson
Brrr!
My husband, when young, worked on ski patrol in the high country. He describes going up by helicopter to drop dynamite on cornices, to make them collapse before skiers could be caught beneath them. In the case of the Tahoe deaths, there were extreme warnings because of the heavy snow, but they went out anyhow.
In the early eighties there was an avalanche at Alpine Meadows in Tahoe that killed seven people. One girl survived. The people who were killed were not in a back country area: they were employees in buildings and some people out for a walk, crossing the parking lot. One survivor was buried for several days in one of the buildings. She was still skiing when I met her, thirty years ago, though she lost part of one of her legs to frostbite.
Deadliest avalanche in US history was up the road from my house, destroyed two trains and killed 96 people back in 1910.
Fortunately avalanches are a localized hazard. Not everyone has the option to not be around them, but most of us do.
Don’t be too sanguine about safety at ski resorts:
“At least 13 people died on Colorado ski slopes during the
2024-25 season, marking a slight decline from recent winters”
https://coloradosun.com/2025/05/02/colorado-ski-deaths-2024-25/
They don’t “advertise” the statistic for obvious reasons.
I believe far more skiing deaths are caused by accidents (running into trees or other skiers), or by medical emergencies (heart attack, etc.) than by avalanches.
Way back when I was “skiing” in the 1980s helmets weren’t a thing for the general public. I think they are now, which is progress.
Last time I skied Tahoe, they closed the mountain because of avalanche concerns. I heard dynamite exploding in the distance (to force the issue, I suppose).
While skiing in the Alps years back I decided to go off the trail and into the deep, unknown. I had seen a family of four do it. So, thinking it was safe, I followed them. At first it was beautiful and exhilarating zigging in and out between evergreens, like I was in a James Bond movie. Then I fell and got buried in deep, thick snow. The family I was following was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly I wasn’t certain that I wouldn’t ski off a cliff. After getting buried a few more times, I eventually found my way to safety at the bottom where the bus to the hotel was waiting. The wine was excellent that night.
But it’s a primal fear nonetheless, perhaps from movies.
I have a similar horror of quicksand. In the 50s, on Saturday mornings, there were these jungle adventure serials — Jungle Jim, Ramar of the Jungle, etc. It seemed that in every episode someone either got sucked under in quicksand or had to be rescued from quicksand. I was fascinated, enthralled, horrified.
Kate; Monte Meals:
Statistics on resort skiing (non-avalanche) accidents in the US:
That’s an extremely low probability of death, because of the high number of skiers.
The number of back-country skiers is far lower, but the number of deaths is nearly as high:
Avalanche victims are almost always in back-country terrain. Estimates are that about 2 million people engage in back-country skiing or other sports. So obviously the chance of death is far higher than in skiing on trails.
I’ve done a tremendous amount of skiing and cycling over my life. I went skiing for the first time in about 20 years last year. I skiied a lot before then. I was astonished last year to see that EVERYONE is wearing helmets. Really!? It strikes me as though people are putting on helmets to go shopping at the supermarket. Why?
My friend who has been a ski instructor for 15+ years simply said “Sonny Bono.” Maybe Natasha Richardson too. The Sonny Bono incident I can believe. He was stupid enough to hit a tree at speed. But Natasha just fell down, as far as I can learn. That one is bizarre.
I would guesstimate that the value of wearing a helmet while bicycling is perhaps 10 times greater than for skiiing. Asphalt and concrete is very hard. And your head is higher before the fall. And less body control in mid-fall. When you fall on a steep ski slope, the impact is a glancing blow because of the slope.
Yet decades ago when the bicycle oriented country of the Netherlands looked a bicycle helmet requirement, they decided against it. The downside of people choosing not to cycle with a helmet outweighed those that might be saved.
I cycle with a helmet. I will never ski with one. If you choose to ski in the trees (and you don’t have to do so), slow down!
The avalanche deaths are certainly unfortunate. But again… to ski in those areas in those conditions, you are multiplying your risks by 100 or 1,000 fold. Roll the dice.
Where is the thrill in skiing slowly?
about ten years ago i read a report that the widespread adoption of ski helmets had not changed the rate of head injuries to any statistically meaningfull degree.
I have read that the old movies and TV shows used oatmeal to simulate quicksand.
Selfy, did they use the one minute cooking variety?
I have read that the old movies and TV shows used oatmeal to simulate quicksand.
That’s how the George Pal team simulated lava flows in “The Time Machine.”
I got caught caught in quicksand once. Almost lost a sandal.
Ski helmets: More on Neo’s stats, at 8:06 pm:
“Only five of those 35 killed on U.S. slopes in the 2023-24 season were not wearing helmets.”
So, that season, helmets didn’t help much. Of course, fatal accidents are not limited to head injuries.
I haven’t skiied since the 80’s, and had not realized that recreational skiing had become helmetized. I wouldn’t choose to wear one, but then again, I rarely did tree skiing.
Biking — I absolutely wear a helmet!
The Netherlands story from TommyJay is interesting — choosing not to require bike helmets, year ago. I wonder if that has changed.
In 2020, my husband had a serious bike accident in our hilly neighborhood . I was there, thankfully. He & bike went a full rotation ( NOT intentionally ), & the landing was awful! He would be dead, if not for his helmet.
Suffered several bad injuries, still. Punctured lung, fractured vertebrae, concussion. Broke the bottom of 1 side of his skull, damaged an eye nerve causing double vision for some time.
And of course, some nasty lacerations.
He was in ICU, then a “step down” room for nearly a week.
(COVID restrictions at the hospital were brutal on me. Bad timing!)
Had tons of doctor and PT appointments for several months.
I’m very grateful he doesn’t remember the accident! We got back to biking, eventually.
1. Everyone dies. Dying while doing something you love, in my humble opinion, is no tragedy. My personal goal has always been to die in a violent motorcycle crash (single vehicle of course) on a twisty road somewhere in the mountains. Unfortunately for me, I’m a pretty damn good rider, so no luck so far. If I ever succeed, don’t mourn, celebrate.
2. Nature is actively trying to kill you at every moment of every day. Forget that at your peril. Personally, I think living life to the fullest is worth the risk rather than sitting at home in a nice, relatively safe, bubble, but going forth and adventuring does entail risk that you must be willing to accept.
3. Life is a contact sport. The only way to stay “safe” is to refuse to play…but then, what’s the point?
I think growing up on a farm had a lot to do with forming my attitudes about life. When you’re that close to the cycle, I think it makes it easier to accept as perfectly natural the concept that everything that lives, also dies. Dying isn’t a mishap in life, it’s the inevitable conclusion.
It’s kind of ironic that they typically put two dates on people’s gravestones, but what’s actually important is what happened between them.
I’ve never thought about avalanche one way or the other. Roiling water is my fear. I can barely stand to watch the 1953 movie “Niagara,” for example.
I’ve never thought about avalanches one way or the other. Roiling water is my fear. I can barely stand to watch the 1953 movie “Niagara,” for example.
There are currently avalanche warnings for my area. It has been a dry and warm winter so far, but last weekend we got significant snow, and now it is warm again, not a good combination. Avalanches are a fairly common occurrence, sometimes they close the canyon road. It is amazing how hard the snow packed down by an avalanche is, like concrete. Lots of crosscountry skiing, snowshoeing, and snowmobiling here.
It isn’t just snow. Before the trails got snowed in I noticed some big boulders had come down. The warm days, cold nights, had loosened them.