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Ogwyn Valley Mountain Rescue
Honda Magazine
(You can download the original pdf here)
With the Snowdonia National Park flooded with sunshine on a beautiful North Wales summer morning, it’s hard to imagine danger in the Ogwyn Valley.
Kim Burnham, making the first of the day’s many cups of tea in a weather-beaten outhouse opposite the spectacular Tryfan peak, knows differently. As a volunteer for the Ogwyn Valley Mountain Rescue Organisation (OVMRO), Kim knows that it’s not all gentle walks around picture postcard scenery.
Tryfan is the only true mountain on the British mainland, though the definition of a mountain seems less than scientific. “It means you have to take your hands out of your pockets to get up it,” says Chris Lloyd, the first of Kim’s colleague to arrive. It also means an element of risk for visitors, and that’s why Kim and Chris – later joined by Ginger Farrar, Roger Jones and Jed Stone – are giving up yet another weekend.
The OVMRO consists of 45 dedicated local volunteers, in theory all on call 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. Mountaineers by sport, they see volunteering as a way of giving something back – the phrase “there but for the grace of God” being something of a mantra.
It’s mainly hours of vigilance, waiting for emergency calls to come in from the police, and then deciding on the appropriate response. A rescue operation can range from talking people down the slope via mobile phone to winching casualties from inaccessible ridges with full RAF backup.
Mostly it’s people who have got lost, or twisted ankles, but as Jed points out, “Even minor injuries can be critical – a sprained knee can be fatal in very low temperatures.”
Roger is the grand elder, having been there since the team’s inception in 1965. He’s seen it all, from airlifts to river rescues to dogs with heatstroke. “I would describe the experience we have as ‘scenic drama’,” he says. “We do it for the satisfaction of a job well done, and I think we’re privileged to see the splendour of the mountains in a way that very few others do.”
The team agree that even in the intensity of a rescue operation, the sun breaking over a ridge or flares dramatically lighting the slopes can be awe inspiring. It’s heroic work, but modesty prevails. “We’re not all super hot rock-jocks, bouncing cinematically about the hillsides,” says Chris. “We’re competent mountaineers and we work incredibly well as a team.”
Even the basic skills needed in mountain rescue are impressive. Team members need to be competent at technical rope rescue, search techniques, first aid and water rescue. The base is equipped for all this and more.
Beyond the computer bank in the main operations rooms, the back rooms contain a bewildering array of kit, testament to the diversity of situations that the team respond to. Everything from vacuum-pack splints to laughing gas to several different kinds of stretcher are painstakingly itemised and stowed, ready to be picked up and used at a moment’s notice.
The specialist torches alone cost around ₤500, but light up the darkest crags and penetrate the heaviest mists. In the severest conditions, power to the base itself can be unreliable, and the team rely on their trusty Honda E500 generator – still effective after 25 years - to keep lights and radios operational.
As he shows me the photos of rescues past, Chris sums up the motivation behind it all: “It’s hard work, frustrating, unpleasant at times, but the camaraderie is incredible, and to help your fellow man in extreme conditions – it’s very special. I love going back to work and people asking me, ‘So, what did you do at the weekend?’”
Whatever you’re doing this weekend, spare a thought for the “Oggy Valley” volunteers – they’re making sure everyone else’s remains as incident free as possible.
Kim Burnham, making the first of the day’s many cups of tea in a weather-beaten outhouse opposite the spectacular Tryfan peak, knows differently. As a volunteer for the Ogwyn Valley Mountain Rescue Organisation (OVMRO), Kim knows that it’s not all gentle walks around picture postcard scenery.
Tryfan is the only true mountain on the British mainland, though the definition of a mountain seems less than scientific. “It means you have to take your hands out of your pockets to get up it,” says Chris Lloyd, the first of Kim’s colleague to arrive. It also means an element of risk for visitors, and that’s why Kim and Chris – later joined by Ginger Farrar, Roger Jones and Jed Stone – are giving up yet another weekend.
The OVMRO consists of 45 dedicated local volunteers, in theory all on call 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. Mountaineers by sport, they see volunteering as a way of giving something back – the phrase “there but for the grace of God” being something of a mantra.
It’s mainly hours of vigilance, waiting for emergency calls to come in from the police, and then deciding on the appropriate response. A rescue operation can range from talking people down the slope via mobile phone to winching casualties from inaccessible ridges with full RAF backup.
Mostly it’s people who have got lost, or twisted ankles, but as Jed points out, “Even minor injuries can be critical – a sprained knee can be fatal in very low temperatures.”
Roger is the grand elder, having been there since the team’s inception in 1965. He’s seen it all, from airlifts to river rescues to dogs with heatstroke. “I would describe the experience we have as ‘scenic drama’,” he says. “We do it for the satisfaction of a job well done, and I think we’re privileged to see the splendour of the mountains in a way that very few others do.”
The team agree that even in the intensity of a rescue operation, the sun breaking over a ridge or flares dramatically lighting the slopes can be awe inspiring. It’s heroic work, but modesty prevails. “We’re not all super hot rock-jocks, bouncing cinematically about the hillsides,” says Chris. “We’re competent mountaineers and we work incredibly well as a team.”
Even the basic skills needed in mountain rescue are impressive. Team members need to be competent at technical rope rescue, search techniques, first aid and water rescue. The base is equipped for all this and more.
Beyond the computer bank in the main operations rooms, the back rooms contain a bewildering array of kit, testament to the diversity of situations that the team respond to. Everything from vacuum-pack splints to laughing gas to several different kinds of stretcher are painstakingly itemised and stowed, ready to be picked up and used at a moment’s notice.
The specialist torches alone cost around ₤500, but light up the darkest crags and penetrate the heaviest mists. In the severest conditions, power to the base itself can be unreliable, and the team rely on their trusty Honda E500 generator – still effective after 25 years - to keep lights and radios operational.
As he shows me the photos of rescues past, Chris sums up the motivation behind it all: “It’s hard work, frustrating, unpleasant at times, but the camaraderie is incredible, and to help your fellow man in extreme conditions – it’s very special. I love going back to work and people asking me, ‘So, what did you do at the weekend?’”
Whatever you’re doing this weekend, spare a thought for the “Oggy Valley” volunteers – they’re making sure everyone else’s remains as incident free as possible.
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