Panic Attack in Aspen: My first time being rescued by Ski Patrol

If you are considering picking up skiing as a hobby, I wouldn’t recommend reading any further. In February of 2016, I went skiing for the first time in over fifteen years. The first few seasons were rough as I learned how to turn and stop. Balancing on my skis was never an issue; the issue was that I had no idea how to stop so I would just throw myself to the ground to stop so I did not hit a tree or a person. I’m not going to lie, learning how to ski was a frustrating process, but I didn’t give up. The better I got, the more fun it became which gave me motivation to work even harder on improving my skills. My husband has been snowboarding for a long time so I wanted to learn quickly so I could keep up with him. This season I have gained a new sense of confidence on my skis. I was pushing myself further and going down terrain that I NEVER thought I would be doing. I went from crying my way down blue runs (medium skill level) to starting my days on double black diamond runs (expert level). This newfound confidence wound up putting me into a situation that sparked one of the worst panic attacks I have ever had.

Aspen is one of the best ski resorts in the world; because of this, hotels, Airbnb’s, VRBO’s, etc. are extraordinarily expensive. We avoided visiting Aspen all season to save money, but with one of the last snow storms coming through this past weekend (3/22-3/23), we decided we HAD to take advantage of it. A mattress pad, sleeping bag, and lots of layers helped us turn our Subaru Outback into a “camper” for the night. The day started out wonderfully. There are four separate resorts at Aspen Snowmass: Aspen Highlands, Aspen Mountain, Buttermilk, and Snowmass. They had gotten four inches over night and the snow was still falling. We parked in the lot for Buttermilk and decided to give that a try first.

Buttermilk was a perfect mountain to warm up on. The runs were fun, but not too difficult. There was light fluffy snow falling and visibility was great. After about two hours, we decided to hop on the bus and head over to Aspen Highlands. This is where things went downhill fast. The conditions were close to whiteout (as pictured below). I could barely see 10 feet in front of me. As I said earlier, my husband James is really good. The past few times we have skied and snowboarded together, I had been keeping up with him fairly well. We decided to try out a double black diamond first and I felt confident about it. I had been doing so well this season, so I was not even worried before we started. That all changed about 10 seconds into the run.

Steep mountains have always been my biggest fear when it came to skiing. I quickly realized this was the steepest run I had ever been on and I could barely see anything. Anxiety immediately began to set it. James was below me, so I shouted down to let him know that I was going to try and find my way back to the blue run. I went as far left as I could to try and get back the easier part of the mountain, but I had never been there before and I could not find it. Wanting to AVOID a panic attack, I sat down and thought about what I should do. In the past, I had taken my skis off and slid down on my butt until I was at a part that was not very steep. Thinking it would work just fine, I took my skis off, held on to them, and started to slid down the mountain. Almost immediately, I lost control and had to let go of my skis because I rolled over them, which did NOT feel great. I continued to fall for about 50-75 yards, tumbling like a ragdoll as I went. I remember clawing my fingers into the side of the mountain to try and stop myself from sliding any farther. There was a point were my back was to the bottom of the mountain and I had no idea if I was going to hit a tree or not.

After what felt like forever, I stopped falling. Miraculously, I was not seriously injured and avoided hitting any trees or rocks. Bruised in lots of places, yes, but no broken bones. One ski pole made it through the fall with me. One ski was high above me, one was far below me, and my other pole was nowhere to be seen (although, I wasn’t looking too hard because I was afraid if I moved even an inch I would fall and lose control again). Frozen on the side of the mountain, I started to panic. Hyperventilation started to set in, but I knew I needed to get a control over my breath to help calm myself down. Taking long deep inhales and exhales, I told myself I would be fine, that plenty of people must go down this run. After about a minute or so, no one came down the run. Panic started to take over my entire body; I was frozen stiff, hyperventilating, sweating, and terrified about what to do next. Luckily I started to hear people shouting at me from a lift line asking if I was okay. I was able to shakily scream out that I was having a panic attack. The person shouted back that they were going to notify ski patrol that I needed help. I got my breath under control after I knew help was on the way, but I started crying hysterically because I was still afraid that if I moved even the slightest bit, I was going to tumble down the steep hill.

Within a few minutes, a group of three skiers found me and began to help calm me down. They worked together to collect my gear and bring it back to me. While this was happening, a very nice ski patrolman named Sam arrived. He placed himself in front of me and assured me that I would not fall down the mountain with him standing there. He told me I had two options: he could call for backup to bring a toboggan to rescue me, or I could ski out of there with his help. We sat there for what felt like ten minutes while I collected myself and thought about my options. Sam was calm and knew exactly what to say to make me feel comfortable enough to give skiing out of there a try. I knew it was not going to be easy, but at this point I had to put my trust in him and believe that he was going to get me off the side of that mountain safely.

After getting back into my skis, I slowly began making my way down the hardest run I have ever done in my entire life. With the guidance of Sam, I successfully made it to a place where I felt comfortable and safe. We traversed around the entire backside of the mountain to get back to the easier part of the resort and then parted ways. It is hard for me to express just how grateful I am to that ski patrolman for coming to rescue me and to those skiers who stopped to help calm me down and collect my gear. Skiing is one of the most challenging, fun, and rewarding hobbies I have and I do not intend to stop anytime soon because of this incident. As with everything in life, I will take this as a learning experience: do not explore the hardest parts of a new resort when there is limited visibility.

There are very real dangers that come along with skiing and snowboarding. Feeling like you are out of control is one of the worst feelings you can have, which is why you have to learn what your limits are and be very careful that you do not wind up in an unsafe situation like I did. I would highly recommend hiring a professional to teach you what to do, because let me tell you, I learned a ridiculous amount of tips from Sam the ski patrolman on that one run! My limits were tested this past weekend, but I know one day I will be back at Aspen to give that double black diamond another try (maybe in another few years). Ski responsibily out there my friends, and stay safe!