Photo courtesy of Eric White

The number of rescues on Mt. Shasta has decreased over the years, from 44 in 1999 to 13 this year. Climbers rescued from the mountain often have to be rescued by helicopter.

Eric White is the chief climbing ranger for the U.S. Forest Service on Mt. Shasta.

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Naturalist John Muir nearly died during a blizzard on the summit of Mt. Shasta in 1875. Muir and Jerome Fay, a local mountain guide, survived the night by laying down in a field of steaming sulphur fissures near the summit. They experienced "a Scandinavian hell, at once frozen and burned," as Muir described it. The next day, they managed to stumble through deep snow to safety.

Today, Mt. Shasta climbers have backup not only in the form of high-tech devices and trained rescue personnel, but equipment including toboggans and helicopters. The ranger station in Mount Shasta provides up-to-date weather information and offers climbers a preview of what they'll be facing through a virtual tour, via computer, of several possible routes up the mountain. On the main climbing route on the mountain's south side, "wands" — bamboo poles festooned with red flags — help climbers stay on course.

These high- and low-tech aids have helped dramatically reduce the number of deaths and injuries on the mountain. There hasn't been a fatality since 2003, and search-and-rescue incidents have dropped substantially, from a high of 49 in 1999 to only 11 last year.

But there are fewer climbers nowadays. Climbing permits are down from 9,300 in 2001 to 6,200 last year. Would-be climbers have been discouraged by the lack of snow during the past two climbing seasons. By early summer, the main climbing route, Avalanche Gulch on the south slope, has been all but impossible to climb due to exposed loose rock.

The growing popularity of GPS units has also made a difference. "Most of the climbers we have to find are the ones who don't have GPS units or cell phones," said Sgt. Chris Callahan, charge of the Siskiyou County Sheriff's Department search-and-rescue unit.

Callahan's office coordinates all search and rescues on the mountain, but the day-to-day effort is maintained by U.S. Forest Service climbing rangers. They are the mountain's "beat" patrolmen, roaming the mountain during the main climbing season, and usually are the first to come to the aid of injured climbers. Their efforts are funded through a $20 fee paid by each climber.

Every year, it seems, there are climbers who "cry wolf," who because of ailments such as blisters or altitude sickness "expect a helicopter to show up immediately and fly them down to a lounge with cocktails waiting for them," said climbing ranger Nick Meyers. Most times, they're told as diplomatically as possible that they'll have to make it down on their own.

"Flying a helicopter up on the mountain can put lives at risk, especially if there are high winds or poor visibility," said Eric White, chief climbing ranger. "Climbers need to stay in their group and be ready to deal with their own problems, to be creative and resourceful out there. They can stabilize a broken leg with a ski pole, for example, and bring out an injured climber by using the ‘burrito' technique, putting him on a sleeping pad and wrapping a tarp around him."

Then there are the true life-and-death situations: On the first day of summer this year, Patricia Giamoni, 37, and Salvador Frias, 41, found themselves caught in a blizzard with 100 mph winds near the summit. Former sweethearts, they had agreed to meet after a long separation. Their rendezvous was Mt. Shasta with an attempted climb to the summit.

It turned out to be quite a date, one that certainly brought them together. As the wind howled above them, they lay in the snow hugging each other. Lost in the blizzard, they headed back down the wrong side of the mountain, inching their way down a steep and icy glacier that even the most experienced climbers avoid.

In the days that followed, more than 100 people searched for the couple while a California Air National Guard helicopter hovered overhead.

Late on the third day, the weary couple stumbled up to the shipping docks of the Roseburg Lumber mill in Weed.

Despite the massive search effort, they had made it to safety on their own, with a little help from their GPS unit. (Their cell phone had died the first day out.) It helped them locate the train tracks that served as their route to the Roseburg mill.

Apart from this dramatic episode, the past climbing season has been fairly uneventful — only 13 incidents so far. White rescued one woman who fell and dislocated her shoulder near the summit. White and Meyers assisted a man down the mountain after he complained of stomach pains. When the pain grew too severe for him to walk, White lashed him to a toboggan and skied him down the final stretch to a waiting ambulance. At the hospital, he was diagnosed with acute appendicitis.

On Wednesday, in a rescue coordinated by Sgt. Callahan, a man was rescued from the mountain by a California Highway Patrol helicopter.

Like any beat cop, most of a Mt. Shasta ranger's work is routine, and it's definitely not all glamorous: The rangers do trail maintenance work, clean restrooms at lower elevations and pick up garbage and human waste from careless climbers on the upper slopes. A regular stop on the beat is Lake Helen, at 10,400 feet, a popular overnight camping spot for climbers before their final assault on the summit. Rangers circulate among the campers, making sure they have the proper equipment and know how to use it. They also help climbers fine-tune their routes based on snow and weather conditions.

Anyone who's been up on the upper elevations of the mountain knows it has its own weather system and that it can change from one hour to the next. That's a lesson learned by climbers from John Muir to Patricia Giamoni and Salvador Frias. As they also learned, if a sudden blizzard hits, you have to be able to figure out how to survive and, even in this modern era, sometimes make it out on your own.

Tim Holt is a Dunsmuir freelance journalist and the author of "Songs Of The Simple Life," a collection of essays.