You can do everything right—check the forecast, space out, and even ski cut the line—and the mountain can still decide to wreck your day. On January 10, 2026, a group of three backcountry riders in Rocky Mountain National Park found that out the hard way.
The Setup
The crew was eyeing a line in the Haiyaha Couloir. This isn't beginner terrain; it's consequential ground that demands respect. Recognizing the wind loading, they played it smart initially. They performed a ski cut on the upper chute—a standard move to test slope stability and trigger small pockets before committing. It worked. They released a wind slab that swept the upper section clear.
In many scenarios, you'd call that a win. Hazard mitigated. Green light. But snow science isn't linear.
The Incident
With the upper section cleared, one skier dropped into the untouched lower slope. That's when the trap sprung. The slope fractured above him, ripping out an 8–14 inch crown. That is a significant amount of mass moving at speed.
He was caught, carried, and briefly buried. In a desperate move to self-arrest, he managed to grab a tree. The tree stopped his fall, but the physics of a human body fighting an avalanche resulted in a dislocated shoulder. If you've ever had a shoulder out of the socket in the backcountry, you know the adrenaline is the only thing keeping you from passing out.
The Cascade Effect
This is where things usually go from bad to catastrophic. Seeing their partner down, the other two riders hurried to assist. In the rush, they triggered a secondary slide—likely hangfire from the initial release.
This is a classic compounding error. When a partner goes down, the instinct is to rush. But rushing into compromised terrain often creates a second victim. Luckily, this secondary slide didn't bury the rescuers.
The Aftermath
The group managed to regroup, handle the injury (gnarly as it was), and self-evacuate. No helicopter, no body bags. Just a painful exit and a hell of a story.
The Takeaway
Massive respect to this crew for filing a detailed report with the Colorado Avalanche Information Center (CAIC). It takes guts to admit mistakes publicly, but that data saves lives.
Here is the reality check: Wind slabs are persistent. Just because you cleared the entry doesn't mean the apron is stable. And when the shit hits the fan, slow down. Assessing the scene before rushing to a rescue is the difference between a rescue and a recovery.
Stay sharp out there.
Source: Unofficial Networks / CAIC
