Motorola Radio Contest Winner

Our winner’s friends call 911 after getting lost inbounds at June Mountain. At least the ski patrol got a kick out of it.
Motorola Two-Way MR350R Radio

Editor's note: A few weeks ago we posted this story. In doing so, we agreed to give a pair of Motorola radios to whoever sent us the best story about getting lost on skis. Here's the best one we got. It came from Patrick Kerr, who lives in Wildwood, Missouri. Patrick, the radios are on their way.

Here’s a little background information: The guys I'm skiing with aren't really familiar with June Mountain; they only ski it one or two days a year. And on this day it's been snowing pretty hard and there isn't much visibility. But that's as far as I'll go defending them.

So we’re skiing the morning on the J7 lift in shin to knee-deep fresh powder. After lunch at the Chalet, the five of us head up J6. We take off from J6 and head down Bodie, and then continue under the chair to get back to J6. A couple of the guys in our group are having a bit of trouble keeping up in the knee-deep powder.

We get back on the chair and notice Chuck and Glenn are missing. We don't see them under the chair line and I'm wondering if they followed Bodie skiers left and went down to J4, which is closed for the day.

About half way up the lift I get a call on my cell phone and hear just a few words before I lose the connection. I hear "...chair not running..." Now I'm positive they took that turn and went to J4. No problem, I'll head down Rosa Mae or one of the other runs, pick them up, make the short walk to Desperado, and we'll be good to go. Piece of cake! I wish.

We'll the two "lost souls", who are not sure where they are and seeing that J4 is not turning, have a bit of a panic attack. They begin to have visions of the Donner Party. Guess what they do? Yep! They call 911! They get connected to the sheriff and the sheriff connects them to ski patrol that, unbeknownst to me, heads out to "rescue" them.

It takes me about five minutes or so to get to the bottom of J4, (making first tracks down the whole way as J4 is closed. It was so good!) But I digress.

I find the boys thrashing about with their skis off looking like they are getting ready to start walking through the trees going who knows where. They tell me they called 911 and I thought they were kidding. I tell them to follow me and we head on over to Desperado. Now here comes Ski Patrol and now I know they weren't kidding. Man was I pissed off and embarrassed. We go back to J6 to head back to the top. Once we get off, they start to follow me as I'm going to do laps down to J4 and then to J6 and then back up. Oh no, I did not want them following me. Shoo. Go away. Scram. Go back to J7.

That evening we ran into Erik, head of June Ski Patrol. He thought the whole thing was pretty funny. "In all my years, I have never had a 911 call for someone being lost inbounds."

These guys will never hear the end of it. —Patrick Kerr


Tucker enjoys pats on the head, chasing balls, and avalanche rescue operations.The ladies love Tucker. So do the grown men, children of all ages, and anyone with a camera phone or a spare hand. I’m riding up the Gold Coast Funitel at Squaw Valley with the golden retriever and his handler, ski patroller Pete York, and I’m learning that it’s hard to conduct an interview when you’re seated next to a good-looking dog. But Tucker is more than just York’s best friend and the darling of Squaw visitors. He is also trained in avalanche rescue, which is why he and York have been invited to assist the Canadian Avalanche Rescue Dog Association (CARDA) with security operations at the Vancouver Olympics. Four other canines of the Squaw Valley Avalanche Rescue Dog Team and four more handlers will travel with them.

Squaw Dogs Head to Vancouver Olympics

Tucker is your typical golden retriever who likes to roll in the snow and chase balls. He and his owner, Pete York of the Squaw Valley Ski Patrol, also work together on avalanche rescue operations and will travel to the 2010 Vancouver Olympics to assist with security. By Olivia Dwyer