Story Published:
Jan 9, 2004 at 8:53 AM PDT
Story Updated:
Aug 31, 2006 at 1:22 AM PDT
SEATTLE - His fingers and toes blistered and blackened by
frostbite, Dan Witkowski stumbled deliriously during his last day
in the wilderness, sometimes believing he was home in Ellensburg
instead of freezing in the central Cascade Range.
His body temperature had fallen to 89 degrees, and he had lost
20 pounds. He wasn't sure if he had slept. He remembers almost
nothing - except the whirring of the helicopter that reached him
just a few hours before he would have died last Sunday.
Witkowski spoke publicly Friday for the first time since his
five-day, four-night ordeal in the backcountry near Alpental ski
area, which began New Year's Eve when the 25-year-old extreme skier
plunged down an out-of-bounds chute he had never skied before.
"Mentally, I was gone," he said, flanked by his doctor and
family during a news conference at Harborview Medical Center. "The
last couple of days were kind of hopeless. I couldn't stand up or
think very well. ... I just didn't want to die. I didn't want my
parents to have to put me in the ground."
Witkowski has been in Harborview's Burn Unit since he was picked
up by helicopter last Sunday afternoon. He was expected to be
released Saturday morning, and his doctors, who heated his hands
and feet by soaking them in warm water, planned to monitor him over
the next several months.
Most likely, Dr. David Heimbach said, a few of his fingertips
and toes will have to be amputated, but doctors want to see how
much tissue recovers before they begin cutting. Nevertheless,
Heimbach said, Witkowski should be back on the slopes next season.
"The fact that he lived is pretty remarkable," Heimbach said.
"It's a testament to how well you can do when you're young and
healthy."
Witkowski began skiing by himself at Alpental, off Interstate 90
about 40 miles east of Seattle, the morning of New Year's Eve. He
soon decided to begin skiing out-of-bounds, as he often did.
He skied north along a ridge and then sailed down a chute. When
he reached the valley below, he knew he was lost, but figured that
if he kept heading downhill, he'd be OK.
For a while he did, then decided to hike up to another ridge to
see if he could figure out where he was.
Meanwhile, his friends were expecting to see him at 5 p.m. When
he didn't show, they called his family's home, where he lives. His
father, Robert, drove out to Alpental that night to see if he could
find his son's car.
Robert Witkowski didn't find the car and figured Dan must be out
celebrating the holiday in Ellensburg. But Robert didn't know there
was a fourth parking lot at Alpental, and that's where Dan's car
was. When the Witkowskis hadn't heard from their son by the middle
of the night, they started calling Alpental's ski patrol, which
launched the search the next morning.
Dan had no food, not so much as an energy bar. He tried to keep
moving to maintain his temperature, resting on beds of stripped
tree branches before dark so he'd have enough energy to continue
through the night. He never stopped for long, he said, because
whenever he did he began shaking. Eventually, he covered about 10
miles, though he was found only 5 miles from the ski area.
About 20 inches of snow fell during the time he was missing, so
the scores of rescuers who looked for him without believing he was
still alive had trouble finding tracks. It was only when the
weather cleared Sunday and helicopters were able to fly over the
area that they began to see specks of gear in the snow - his
jettisoned skis, snow-filled gloves, even the linings of his ski
boots, which he ditched because they were frozen solid.
During the final two days he covered little ground, staying near
Pratt Creek, which he drank from. Sometimes he prayed. He doesn't
recall whether he ever realized how close he was to death.
"I never thought I was that bad," he said. "When I was weak,
I wasn't thinking straight, and when I was strong, I was surprised
at how strong I was."
Witkowski has been working as a dishwasher, but won't be able to
do that for a while. He hopes instead to return to Central
Washington University and earn a degree - in what, he's not sure.
One thing he is sure of is that he will be back on the slopes.
"I'm definitely going to go back. I'm going to be safer," he
said. "At the time, it didn't seem that stupid. ... If I go out of
bounds, I'll have my gear, and I'll have my friends with me."