The Ride of My Life

Terminal Cancer Ruby Mountains
(I wrote this while sitting in the hospital 30 minutes after the incident. I rewrote it, 3 days later and I hope that if anything, someone can learn from the mistakes made on this day. Name's are omitted.)

I'm not 100% sure why I'm even writing this, maybe because of the wave of emotions I'm experiencing and I'm not the most outward emotional person, except in my writing. Maybe I'm writing it because I want people to not make the same mistakes that we made.
To start, know that I am physically okay. Mentally, I've broke into tears multiple times not sure of because of happiness or what.

The story:
We - LJ, RC and myself - camped out in my van in Elko, Nevada about 4 hours West of Salt Lake City, where the famous Terminal Cancer Couloir is located. We had plans of hitting it early morning and driving back to SLC that afternoon, celebrating with beers. We had been planning this for about a week or so, and were pretty stoked on the idea of getting such a classic ski line.

I went out to West Jordan, picked up RC after he got off work and drove out to get LJ in Tooele. Stopping in Wendover for food and slowly making our way from Elko to the trailhead, there was new snow on the ground, maybe a couple of inches, nothing significant. We stopped at the trailhead, slept in the cramped van and set alarms for 7:30am. Stoke was high, as we felt we had green lights on everything; snow pack, group dynamic, and weather except for the obvious red light on the terrain.

Waking up to a 30degF morning with a slight wind we made our way way to the apron of the couloir and noticed no one else camped there except for one car, who we later found out was just a cross country skier. Reaching the couloir after a quick bushwack and creek crossing my eyes lit up with the aesthetic of this line. It's about a 1200 ft straight shot up a changing 32 to 37 degree slope that has a choke from afar looks like is just wide enough for your splitboard to side-slip down.

Terminal Cancer Ruby Mountains
Booting up the couloir there are two alcoves on the right side, cutting the couloir into [estimated] thirds, that are safe spots for partners to hide in while hiking up and riding down if an avalanche were triggered.

Before even reaching the foot of the couloir I thought we should dig a snow pit to see how it would react. The words never came out of my mouth, I still don't know why.

Terminal Cancer Ruby Mountains

While hiking up to the first alcove, LJ led the way with myself then RC trailing, new snow was about 4 inches deep and progressively got deeper while moving up. Reaching the 1st alcove, with RC and LJ going on ahead, I dug a hand pit and found 2 inches of new snow, on top of 2 inches of new snow, on top of a bed layer. The two new snow layers weren't significantly different in composition but were clearly 2 different layers. Nothing too concerning to me at this point just that we'd have to manage sluff while riding down. The terrain gave me some concern though, and I mentioned to RC that I thought we should go up one at a time. He agreed and said he was thinking the same thing. So we waited for LJ to reach the 2nd alcove before I started, then RC would come up when I made it.

Terminal Cancer Ruby Mountains

As I was hiking up to the 2nd alcove, we noticed that there was a group of 4 behind us. By the time I  reached halfway to the next alcove they had just started following our bootpack. When I reached the 2nd alcove, LJ had started going up to the summit.

Looking up and seeing LJ I could see the wind pickup a little bit kicking snow around. At times, I couldn't see the top of the couloir or LJ.

RC and myself made it to the 2nd alcove after trudging through snow that I could post hole through to my knees, waiting for LJ to summit. While waiting, I dug another pit because I wanted RC's opinion. Nearly the same results as the first one, the layers were just thicker by about an inch and a half.

Terminal Cancer Ruby Mountains

From the 2nd alcove LJ decided to throw on the skis again instead of booting because the snow was deep and got annoying post holing through it. He shouted down that was barely audible, "there's cracking in the snow, and looks like a 3 inch wind slab."

From LJ's story,
"The skins started to fall off as the glue on them wasn’t very strong. After fixing this issue a couple times I decided the last 100 vert I would just boot up with the verts. I took my airbag pack off and a ski in order to attach it to the pack. I opened my pack for water as I hadn’t drank any at this point and the slope collapsed. I remember looking at the solid rock wall passing me. I screamed and then yelled “Avalanche”, to alert the people below me."
I think I would of done the same.

Like he said, and the next thing I hear from him..."AVALANCHE!"

The snow came fast but I thought "eh we'll be fine here in this alcove" as I plunge both of my poles, shafts into the fall line, bracing myself for whatever. I saw a little snow come off like a sluff. Shrugged it off then within a split second a thunderous wave of snow came in view.

It was like the avalanche just said "Ah yeah this IS happening," and ripped both of us off what I thought was a solid post. It covered my head that was facing uphill and then it got heavy, too heavy. The snow accumulated on my chest and I could feel a massive weight. It overpowered me completely ripping me down the slope.

I got buried, quick. I was tossed around just like what everyone says, like being in a washing machine. Quickly, I did what I could to guess where downhill was and get my feet forward. I saw a small glimpse of light then complete darkness. I started to swim in the snow but the entire time I was thinking to myself was "I'm sorry...I'm so fucking sorry [to my family and friends] and so god damn stupid to be in this situation."

I swam more and felt the snow slow down, and I saw the light again. I thought that was it. I'd be able to poke my hand out and unbury myself. There was slight jubilation. Then another huge wave crashed over my head and I was buried again within seconds traveling down slope at what felt like the same speed you travel as a kid down a slide in a waterpark. Darkness again, I really don't like this. Snow was filling my mouth and choking me, I could barely take a breathe. I swam, scratched and clawed for the rocks to the left of me but thought the entire time that this, was indeed it. Then like I had some "thing" looking over me I poked out from the slide and saw the group below us hunkered into the 1st alcove. Where the hell am I right now? I look up and quickly switch to search mode on my beacon.

"Where is LJ?!" I look down and see RC maybe 200 ft below me as I notice his technicolor goggles. Confusion sets in. Where's LJ? Is he above us, below? There's no way he's below.

I can't communicate with RC due to wind and our voices don't carry. We need to find LJ RIGHT NOW.

We all have similar stories from the slide. Traveling fast and far but staying near the top of the slide. Calling it "luck" doesn't even do it justice.

After speaking with the 4 person group, recollecting, I hiked uphill a bit and got zero signal, then started hiking down in just boots because I lost everything, my split, poles, skins, and bindings ripped from me.

I look down and one last time yell for LJ, saying his name three times as I keep an eye on my beacon. Then I hear it, LJ's distinct-southern voice at THE BOTTOM of the couloir. He must of traveled at least 1000ft in the slide. "My arm is broken and we need to get the fuck out of here!" as he yells up to us.

Oh. My. God. He's alive, good.

Also, thankfully the crew below us was in the that 1st alcove safe and sound. I honestly couldn't handle that.

Walking down finally getting to the bottom, tearing up. I got down, seeing RC cleaning and putting a splint on LJ. I got to them, and all I could say was, "Fuck, god damnit I'm so fucking happy to see you two." I wanted to hug them but LJ was looking pretty beat up so I didn't.

Hiking out and to the car all I could think was "I can't believe this happened to US." I've read so many accident reports that after I think "Oh well here's where things went wrong." Until it happens to you, you don't think that you would EVER make those mistakes but they happen. We were just fortunate enough to live through them where some, have not.

I hate myself for this. I should of spoke up when I had an inkling of doubt when the wind picked up. I should have suggested to dig a pit. I should of saw the signs. Digging my pit tests I felt confident in them but there was some "feeling" that I had about today. A weird enough feeling that if there was any other doubt in the group on continuing to reaffirm this feeling, I would of bailed. Our communication was off where I thought we were working well together. I was working on assumptions with the group thought instead of being outright. We should of communicated better, and we should of stayed together as a group. Why was my mentality when making a decision, "We're 100% going versus you have to convince me to bail" when it needs to be the opposite?

I feel lucky, stupid, embarrassed, scared and, relieved that everyone in that couloir came out alive.

I'm truly sorry for putting my family and friends through this and I love you guys.

It's confirmed that someone went to check out the results and it was about a 1.5 foot crown. Also that it was the second time in 30 years they have seen it slide like that.

For LJ's look into this incident, check it out here on

For RC's look into this incident, check it out here on TGR.

I think LJ put it perfectly and something to note:
"The mountains don’t care who you are or the training you have. If you play on them at the wrong time the dragon will come out."

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  1. Steve - I'm so glad you're okay. Thanks for sharing your story. You've clearly given this a lot of thoughtful reflection and all you can do is learn from it and move forward.

    1. Thanks Kristina, I've had about 3 days to do nothing but reflection. I feel like a completely different person after this and I hope this report can change someone's perspective on it too.

    2. wicked looking slide path you were in. no doubt you were lucky. i got lucky a few years ago. was on a yurt trip and conditions were sketchy. we hiked around for 4 days and skied nothing due to high avalanche conditions. on day 5 we found a lower angle slope that we thought was safe and conditions seemed to be stabilizing some. i was third guy down when it went. lots of other details, but the main thing i learned was that when conditions are high, go home. since then, i question every decision. to the point of annoying my partners sometimes. But, id rather question every move than get careless and go through that again. it can happen so fast. it took me two years to feel comfortable again, but even now, i know "the dragon" can get you anytime it wants. what blew me away the most is the speed at which you travel down hill. you hit something you are seriously injured or dead. not to make light of things at all but did the party below leave or thank you for clearing the slide path? I am glad you guys made it out to share your story. Godspeed.

    3. A lower angled slope triggered, that is what makes this stuff so unpredictable. I'm the first to say that I hate being confrontational or annoying, but after this I will be both. I'd rather be kicking myself for saying too much than not enough.

      They did not, ha, even if they wanted to do keep going up, they thought twice about it. It was fairly loaded still. We also heard that there was another team that went up later that day, and trigger another avy. Crazy.

      Oh and finally to note, LJ got info on from his Garmin while in the speed, 70mph and a heart rate of 195. I think that's what you are referring to when the speed is surprising. Yeah it surprised me too. Glad to hear you made it out ok and stay safe in future travel.

  2. Just glad you and your mates are ok buddy! It has been a weird year for snow, not a lot in some places and in others, avalanche city. Stay safe!

    1. I think we pushed it too far on this day and got lucky. It's not the way I ever want to survive something like that again, by luck. Stay safe out there man, and keep a level head. Safety first, summit second.

  3. Hey, glad you're ok. Amazing story.

  4. Thank you for sharing your experience. What an amazing story!

  5. Oh my gosh, Steve, that is a super scary story. I hope lots of people read it and take it to heart. No one ever thinks bad things can happen to them until they do, but working in trauma for a few years, I know dark clouds aren't prejudice! I'm so glad everyone came out pretty unscathed, minus the broken arm.

    1. Well, it's gotten a lot of hits so, yes I think people have read it. It's another story whether people remember to take caution or not, as I have made the same mistake. That's got to be a tough job working around trauma patients, thanks for being there for people like myself. :)

  6. I skied TC yesterday and ended up finding one G3 skin from a splitboard in the avy debris towards the bottom. I though it might be one of your guys. If it is and you guys still want it I would be happy to mail it to you.