Any time you go into avalanche country, you play a game of probability

Fortunately, the avalanche wasn’t very large.

I had just pushed off to start the descent on a flimsy plastic toboggan when a crack formed and the slab of snow I was on began moving. At that moment, the snow that I had known my whole life became something different — something dynamic, unpredictable, chaotic and frightening. I was tossed onto my stomach and my mind stretched to grasp the advice from my avalanche training course.

I remembered that I was supposed to swim, although that seemed a little ridiculous at the time. Around me, the slabs of snow began disintegrating into smaller and smaller blocks as the riotous train I was inadvertently on began picking up speed. I gave swimming a try, and through dumb luck or an act of kindness by the mountain gods, I found myself at the edge of the moving snow and soon was able to tumble to safety. I watched as the snow slipped past me for another hundred feet or so before the slope leveled and the whole mess came to a stop.

My two younger brothers and I had decided to sled the shoulder of Marmot Mountain at Hatcher Pass that day, and as I stood on solid ground looking up at them, I felt very fortunate, quite shaky and more than a little foolish.

Many years later, I found myself at Mad Hatcher restaurant at the foot of Hatcher Pass with memories of that day resurfacing. It was Feb. 8, 2014, and the venue was stuffed to capacity with people committed to furthering avalanche awareness locally. The Hatcher Pass Avalanche Center Fundraiser was getting started and I was happy to be part of a growing community of people helping to make the mountains a little safer by supporting our local avalanche forecasters.

Any time you go into avalanche country, you play a game of probability. You can avoid slopes of particular degrees, assess snowpack stability, stay out of terrain traps and watch the weather to help you keep out of an avalanche’s path. Each of these variables contributes to the probability that an avalanche might be triggered and any additional information that can help contribute to good decisions is incredibly valuable. That’s where avalanche forecasters come in — they get out on the slope and with an expert eye read the snow to assess firsthand the danger present. Since the threat of avalanches can vary greatly from one area to the next, having information from a local organization can be the difference between life and death.

Allie Barker and Jed Workman are the key people behind the Hatcher Pass Avalanche Center. The organization is not publicly funded, and yet they manage to keep it all together and maintain a website that publishes an up-to-date forecast and hosts a bevy of other avalanche information. In person, the two of them are delightfully friendly people who are passionate about helping folks enjoy Hatcher Pass safely.

The incident many years ago on Marmot taught me a lot. Although I don’t think the avalanche was big enough to completely bury me, it certainly could have cascaded into something larger or roughed me up by tossing me into a rock. I realize now that I ignored many warning signs that day. I made bad decisions and did not appreciate the danger we were in. I did not think about the warm snow that had been falling all day, nor did I critically look at the degree of the slope I was about to descend. We had no avalanche transceivers, no probes, no shovels. I did not think about the snowpack or the temperature. Ignorance reigned in the mountains that day, but fortunately for me, the mountains were not playing for keeps.

Hatcher Pass has seen its share of avalanche tragedies. We are now blessed with local heroes who provide quality avalanche information that will hopefully help us keep additional tragedies at bay. So the next time you venture up to Hatcher Pass to enjoy one of the finest patches of mountains in the world, make sure to check out the forecast at http://hatcherpassavalanchecenter.org. And while you’re at it, click on that donate button to help ensure that the local snow experts have what they need to keep looking out for us all.

Pete LaFrance grew up in Palmer and has moved back to the area after a number of years living abroad.