I stood in the deep, untracked snow between the edge of the snowmobile road and Turkey Creek ravine, because from there I could see everything: the crew on the road, readying the Orion and preparing a landing zone for the helicopter, and the crew in the ravine, working frantically to package our patient. My job was to communicate between the two groups, and that was not easy. “Get an ETA on the patient reaching the road,” Glen called over to me. “The Flight for Life chopper is at the Vail Pass parking area, and they don’t want to launch until we have a time estimate.” I called down to the medical crew and got four different answers. “Twenty minutes!” one of them shouted. “No, better not be twenty minutes, make it ten!” “Which is it?” I shouted back. “Ten or twenty?” “I don’t know!” someone answered, a hint of panic…
