Safety a big job at Eco-Challenge
By Dan Morrison

Chief safety officer Scott Flavelle

The word "adventure" has become so over-used today that it has lost its original definition. There is no such thing, for example, as a "pleasure cruise adventure."

Yvon Chouinard, founder of Black Diamond gear and Patagonia sportswear, the man who more or less introduced the extreme sport of ice climbing to the U.S., and one of a handful who defined big wall climbing in Yosemite Valley in the late 50s and early 60s, understands adventure. It has been his whole life and his livelihood. Chouinard once stated that in order for any activity to qualify as adventure, it must meet four criteria:

1. It must occur in a new setting for the participant
2. The outcome must be unpredictable
3. It must involve a high level of physical exertion
4. The risk of grave serious injury or death must be real

It is point #4 that gives some people fits concerning the Eco-Challenge. How far to push the competitors to the abyss, the abyss from which there is no return?

This race has become a media event, and it wouldn't exactly be good press for The Discovery Channel if the rescue teams suddenly began pulling lifeless bodies out of the ocean.

On the other hand, what good is an adventure race if it becomes clear that so many safety measures have been taken that the event is really nothing more than an over-hyped wilderness vacation?

Enter Scott Flavelle, race manager and chief safety officer.

To Flavelle falls the responsibility of ensuring that the competitors can go out and shake hands with the devil if they choose, but that there is a reasonable chance they won't have to go home with him.

And to Flavelle falls the responsibility of making tough judgment calls as to when a team is in over its head, and when such a team must be forced to accept a time penalty in exchange for bypassing a section deemed too dangerous for its skill level.

The lives of nearly 400 individuals depend entirely, at least for a week, on the judgment of this quiet man from British Columbia.

Explaining how he originally became involved with the Eco-Challenge, Flavelle says, "They were looking for a mountain guide to take on the mountain sections of the race in Whistler for last year's race. And the location coordinator talked to people around Whistler and came up with my name. I met Mark Burnett and Brian Turkleson in the fall of '95. And I've been planning and working on the race from then on."

He has climbed all over the world, and his experience with production companies makes him the logical choice for the job.

"I'm an internationally certified mountain guide, and I've been a practicing mountain guide for 18 years, and I've been a climber for about 24 years. And through the mountain guiding background I've dealt extensively with people, helicopter rescue, and communications systems. Organizing groups of people in the mountains with the film business, particularly for mountain film locations. Providing safety in wilderness locations and mountaineering stunts."

You probably won't know it, but you've undoubtedly seen Flavelle's work.

"The most recent feature film I've worked on was Seven Years in Tibet, with Brad Pitt. Brad Pitt was excellent — one of the most professional actors I've ever worked with in my whole life. His a very quiet person, but on set he works well with the director, he's easy-going. He's quite fit, he trusts us completely when we lowered him over the side. He was a real joy to work with."

Most of that film was shot in Argentina, but certain mountain sequences were shot on and around Mount Waddington, British Columbia, an area through which the Eco-Challenger competitors passed last year.

"Probably the best film I worked on, or the one that came out the best, was Alive. K2 was probably the worst one. Shoot to Kill was my first one, with Tom Beringer and Sidney Poitier."

A mountain guide works with skilled, self-sufficient athletes. Actors don't normally come to mind when discussing those attributes.

Racers were challenged by the tough climbing sections

"I have several titles this year. Number one is race manager, with the responsibilities to manage the race. That includes helping Burnett explore the course, and consulting with Burnett about what we should do in regards to various disciplines. And managing all the people in regards to making the course happen."

"I'm also the rigging coordinator, so I designed and organized all the ropes sections. And I'm the helicopter coordinator. And communications. I also have that on my plate as well."

Flavelle was charged with making the 150-foot rappel down Herbert River Falls happen, as well as sending the competitors up the 300-foot Blencoe Falls wall.

"It was a bit daunting, even for some of the climbers we hired," says Flavelle. "Originally we put all the ropes in place with four people, plus myself."

"We have 6,000 meters of rope hanging in one area, that's 6 kilometers, [over 3 miles]. And all of it is new rope, all the rope used for climbing. In addition, there is also polypropylene rope used to show the competitors the course in the dark. So we're probably talking in the neighborhood of 10 kilometers [6 miles] or rope."

Both ropes sections — the 150-foot rappel down Herbert Falls and the 300-foot climb up Blencoe Falls — were not Dark Zones. According to the rules, the competitors would be allowed to descend or ascend those perilous sections even in the black of night.

"There was extreme pressure in this race," explains Flavelle, "not to have any Dark Zones. It makes the race much better for all the competitors. The competitors don't want Dark Zones, and the race organizers don't want Dark Zones. So the question really is, 'Is it safe enough to go at night?'

"That's a very, very vague and difficult question."

"So you have to look at what's been done in the past. There's a lot of mountaineering that gets done by headlamp. So I think the precedent has been set that this sort of thing does get done at night."

But climbing vertical walls at night is usually tackled by experienced climbers. Many of the competitors in this year's race clearly have no experience in climbing.

"The people who come here actually claim to be experienced. But they're lying. They're lying their way into the race. Once they're at the ropes, then the truth usually comes out."

"So we were definitely putting ourselves in a bind."

"We strongly suggested to numerous parties that they not climb at night. It wasn't me, it was my riggers at each location."

"The lead teams are generally pretty good, they do it at night and everybody feels pretty comfortable about it. We check their systems because we are concerned about deliriousness and exhaustion. It's generally the less experienced teams at the back or the middle of the pack that we're very concerned about."

"You're assuming that these inexperienced climbers can do this. You don't really know what their experience level is. And yet the pressure is there to provide a course for them to climb."

"They all say they want to do it. They all signed forms saying they accept the risk. Nevertheless, every year we find people who just aren't up to it."

"That includes one team on Blencoe Falls who got jammed on the rope, and cut their prussik. And inadvertently cut the climbing rope."

The competitor who cut that rope came within millimeters of a terrifying fall followed by a horrible bone-crunching death.

"Everybody knows that climbing is in the vertical realm, and if you make a mistake you're dead. I can't imagine that they don't know what the risk is.

"People claim they want to do this. And we're providing a service that enables them to do it. I think it's as simple as that."

Dan Morrison covered the Marathon des Sables for Outside Online.