Search and Recovery

Yesterday morning (Saturday) I slept in until 8 a.m. which is extremely late in the desert, generally I have been getting up with the first signs of sunrise. I enjoyed the ultimate in luxuries, a nice long shower and got dressed in regular non-desert clothes to catch the best of the Farmer’s Market. I arrived at the Market at 9:30 a.m. and stopped by the library to grab some wifi and check my messages. The first message I saw announced a Search and Recovery (SAR) beginning at 10:30 a.m. just south of the Border Patrol checkpoint on I 85…like that my plans changed. I rushed home to get my desert boots, hat and backpack, then hurtled down the 85 to meet up with the SAR team from Aguilas del Desierto. I pulled up at the location, which was packed with cars, just around 10:35 a.m. and hoofed it out to catch up with the group already lining up to begin the search.

SAR is exciting! There was a long line of people spaced 20 feet apart covering about a mile, ready to start walking slowly out into the desert checking washes, clumps of saguaro and lone palo verde trees for signs of the missing person. As we began to walk out I was so sure we would find him, at every tree I expected to see him sitting there waiting patiently to be found.

After about 2 hours we stopped for a break. Everyone took out their lunches and drinks. In my haste I had forgotten to bring a lunch, plus in my head I had decided that we would only be out there for an hour or so before we located him. Luckily, I had a can of Sun Vista beans in my pack, so I ate those and felt very much like a desert professional, out finding a person with only a can of beans and a gallon of water for sustenance. I also had a couple of blankets and three pairs of socks, which I felt he would appreciate, as he might be cold, and his feet might be sore when we found him.

We continued searching until a call came over the radio to head back over to the road. We gathered up and were told that it seemed we were in the wrong location. The maps were reviewed, and the cars shuttled up from the original parking spot to the point where we had re-joined the road. Then a long line of vehicles pulled out and headed as a caravan to the newly determined location.

The process of lining up was not so orderly this time. As the sun began to set we headed out into the desert in a much more haphazard fashion, everyone keen to find the man before darkness called off the search. No-one wanted him to spend another night alone in the desert. Again, it was a forlorn hope, as evening closed in scattered groups of 2 or 3 searchers headed back to their vehicles, while the organizers tried to ensure everyone was accounted for before the caravan of headlights wound its way back to town for the night.

This morning (Sunday) was back to the regular desert routine, I got up at 6:30 a.m., ate breakfast, gave my teeth a cursory brush and packed up lunch, water, snacks, maps, GPS and compass. This time I was going to be properly prepared for a long day. The caravan reformed at 8 a.m. and drove to where we had left off the night before. I no longer had illusions of a quick search and home for a nice lunch. I was in it for the long haul, hours of checking vegetation, scrambling through washes, debating the likely route the man may have taken and reforming the search line where it had collapsed or broken due to a particularly deep wash or gnarly hill. We kept at it for 8 hours before our old enemy time forced us to again call it a day with no success.

Where is this man? His companions left him a week ago Monday with a gallon of water, a couple of cans of tuna and a blanket. He had hurt his knee and could not keep up with their pace. They called in to the Aguilas del Desierto with the best information they could about where and when they left him.

Most of the searchers must go back to work tomorrow (Monday). I have the privilege of desert aid being my full-time life. I can keep looking. I have some leads to follow but the window of time to find him alive has narrowed to a sliver of the barest chance. What began, for me, as a search full of hope on Saturday has become a recovery full of dread. They told me to look for the birds.