Today was the start of yet another chapter in Mickey's SAR training. Our SAR unit has technical training on every 4th Thursday of the month. During these training's we perfect our knowledge of ropes and rope rescue. Knots, Z-systems, litters, lowering and raising are taught and practiced. New members learn how to belay, how to tie in, how to ascend and descend...the training is endless as the only way to be perfect is to practice constantly.

As dog handlers, we are not expected to be proficient in the ways of organized knots, but have firm knowledge in the event we must adorn our non-dog handler hat and help the team in another capacity in the search and rescue game. We must also have the know-how when it comes to raising and lowering our dogs over treacherous terrain in the event the unfortunate should find himself in a precarious position upon a rock wall.

Today's training was to be held at the Indian Paintings...a wonderful spot in the Flathead Valley that still holds the secrets and treasures of years gone by. In carefully preserved spots upon the rock wall, one can still gaze at the pictorial stories the Flathead Indians told on their trips to hunt the bison and elk that grazed this valley.

However, rain storms that threaten the integrity of very expensive climbing ropes loomed overhead and the decision was made to stay closer to home and rappel off the 100' grandstands across from our SAR building. Not nearly as romantic as throwing yourself off of a rock wall, but challenging in it's own right.

I decided that Mick was up for the challenge of learning how to descend. He has been off playing show dog for the last three weeks and it was time to get his beautifully groomed and glossy coat dirty. I harnessed him up in his specially made doggie rappelling harness and headed to the top of the grandstands to help tie in anchor systems whose sole purpose in life is to keep one from crashing into the ground at high rates of speed. Once all the systems and back-up systems were checked and confirmed safe by the Training Officer, my rappelling harness, gloves and helmet went on and it was time to master the sheer wooden wall.

To determine the best and most effective way of descending with a dog tied into my harness, I first needed to master the wall. Unlike a rock cliff, grandstand walls are outfitted with safety devices to keep the riff-raff from doing what we were there to do...climb to the other side. This meant straddling a 2 foot safety fence and balancing precariously on a 4" beam while holding your breaking rope in the right hand and trying to convince yourself to let go of the chain link safety fence with your left hand, knowing that there is nothing but air between you and the ground over 100 feet away. Of course during this entire time you are wondering if your harness is indeed on tight enough should you happen to invert and end up upside down...afterall, this flimsy piece of webbing restricting normal respiration's is your life link.

After a couple of uneventful descents, it was time to connect the Mickster who was ever impatiently awaiting my return to the top. Since rappelling with him meant adding another 62 pounds to my system, I changed breaking systems from a "Figure 8" to a "Ladder" so that my descent would be slower and less stressful to my right arm which was also my breaking arm (how much tension I give on the rope with that arm determines how fast I go). Since I had to climb up on a beam and over the 2' safety fence, I needed help in lifting Mickey since there was no way I could manage myself and him on a 4" beam. So my helper on top, hefted him up and held him while I precariously stepped over the side and got myself positioned in the harness.

I was in a 90 degree angle to the wall, feet flat against it's surface in a sitting position, rope in control, when my helper lowered Mick down to me, past me and below me. He was hooked into my system at the waist and his weight pulled in with mine in a direct line on the rope. He dangled there, about 2' below me and between my legs. I could see his tail and part of his back from where I was and that was it. I talked to him quietly the whole way down, pleasantly surprised at how calm he was! Half way down the wall he started wagging his tail furiously...nary another part of his body moved. It was if he knew naturally what was expected and how he should act. I couldn't have been more pleased.

Once on the ground, he gave a contented shake, leapt lithely in the air to plant a huge Mickey kiss on my nose and raced to the top of the grandstands for another go! I shook my head in disbelief for as much as Merak loves helicopter and chairlift rides, he absolutely detests rappelling. I fully expected to be missing half my hide from claw marks on the first go-around with Mickey.

Once on top, I hooked back into the Mickey-monster for another trip to the bottom. The pre-routine was the same as the last trip with my helper hoisting Mick up to balance him on the ledge as I got myself over the side. However, this is where the similarity stopped.

No matter how careful you are, things happen. Fortunately for human-kind, most things are not fatal, but have the potential to be. The connection between Mickey and I was all of 2 feet at the most. His harness hooked into mine by a single piece of aluminum alloy. All our weight combined looped through a contraption that looked like a miniature steel ladder that kept us from catapulting to the ground. Why we decided to have a brake man at the bottom on that trip is beyond me...call it a feeling, a 6th sense, dunno.

As I stepped over the safety fence, the piece of wood I was balanced on with my right foot gave way causing my body to roll to the right. I had the brake rope in my right hand to stop me, which had I been by myself would have been ok...however, my helper, holding Mickey was unable to counterbalance and hold Mickey at the same time and as a result Mick flew off the beam, free-falling a total distance of 4' until his harness tightened into mine stopping his fall. My brakeman at the bottom tightened up the rope (called a belay) thus allowing me to get my feet under me and get us both in the correct position to continue to the bottom. I had a death grip on the brake rope from my end, but left a pretty good blood splat from my right elbow to monogram the white wall.

Once we got to the bottom, we both gave our brake man a big kiss on the nose. Mick was all ready racing to the top for another round when I decided that my heart had had enough excitement for one day.

My general philosophy to rock climbing is the same as that of sky diving...why jump off of a perfectly good and solid base? Now that I have a dog that loves climbing, guess that means I will have to try sky diving...