Great Radio Calls

I got the idea for this thread from a comment by Sinecure in the other thread that I started, and after last night, I decided that there is indeed some merit to this idea. Please note that names have been changed to protect the...ummmm, guilty.
Once again, last night I was patrolling, and conditions were a bit extreme. The temperature was - 26 Celsius with a wind chill down into the -30s. Patience was not a virtue. Our patrol leader called a patroller, George, who was in the cafeteria to go and close lift A. He replied that he was ready, and off he went. His partner Bill was waiting for him at the lift, and when 5 minutes went by and George still had not shown up, Bill called for George. George replied that his skis had been stolen. He was really pissed-off. He started a rant about how he had locked his skis and how the skis and the lock were gone, and that all he had left were the keys in his pocket. I was in the lift with another patroller, and when we heard that he had locked them, we just looked at each other with knowing smiles on our faces.
The rant continued. The language began to challenge the on-air standard of a family ski centre. He was getting really worked up, and finally somone came on to calm him down a bit. For about a minute, we heard nothing.
Then: "Oh! I found my skis!"

Suggestions for the end of the year award are always appreciated!

Dean.

This one happened last year, but we still laugh about it this year. Again, names have been changed to protect certain reputations.
We were closing the mountain and one patroller, Alex, jumped on lift A to close it. As he started up, his ski fell off, and he turned around to tell the lifties, but they never heard and they shut down the lift as soon as he got to the top. So he did the next best thing. He called down on the radio, asking someone to bring him his ski on the snowmobile. So my patrol leader, Patricia, reached around the door to take the snowmobile key off the hook, and her hand closed on air. About half of the crew was in the patrol shack, and she asked if any of us had the key. We answered no. She then asked who was assigned to use the snowmobile that night, and she looked at the bulletin board to see that it was Alex. She grabbed her radio and called up to Alex to ask him if he had the key. Again, the pregnant pause spoke volumes. At that point, we heard the quietest, most discreet 10-4 that I have ever heard in my life. We burst out laughing. At this point, Patricia got this incredible feral grin on her face, and started the following conversation
"You lost your ski at the bottom of A?"
(quiet) "10-4."
"You want us to bring you your ski on the snowmobile, but you have the key?"
(quieter) "10-4."
(In a very loud clear voice, ensuring that everybody on the mountain knows exactly what is going on) "We did not hear that, can you confirm that you do have the key for the snowmobile in your pocket?"

(quietest) "10-4."

We all went to the bottom of the run he was closing...
holding one ski each.

Dean.

Edited by Dean - 3/28/2009 at 02:53 pm

how about:

"has anyone seen my patient? He is about 5'6", with a blue jacket and has a splint on one leg."



or, on a more serious note:

"patient is in the trees off XXX. We need a backboard, five more patrollers, and a chainsaw."

Radio calls are easy to deal with - it's those cell phone calls to 911 from the hill - I think we now have EMS dispatch in the loop - ambulance runs to the area must be cleared by Ski Patrol or Area Management.
Cell phone's are great - Most Times

We had a new (to us) patroller trained at another Mtn. who had a brain fart. He was on his first possible at our hill when he called for BLS. Our dispatcher asked for age, gender, 2 word description. His reply was
25, female, medium build.

About 3-4 years ago about 12 (of 80) patrollers bought the K2 Apache Crossfires. Most were the 167's with the same Marker bindings. I was on stand-by as the mountain was swept. I'm cleared to go and realize my skis are gone but Scott's skis are still there. The local ski shop put the owners names on some of them. I go back in and explain what happened.

Base- "Base to 219"

Scott- "This is 219"

Base- "Look down"

Scott, apparently not knowing what he was looking for had the button pushed in on the walkie-talkie to ask what he was looking for. He apparently figured it out. Without thinking about having the button held in he says to himself out loud

"Aw, f**k..." "I'll be back up in 10 minutes(sigh)."

Base-- To patroller:

You might come down here. You left the window to your truck cracked. A squirrel is in there eating your lunch.

I totally had that call!

"Command, patient in tree with massive leg deformity."
"Copy site, do you need a KTD?"
"I need a SAW."
"Say again?"
"I need a saw. The patient is IN a tree. Also send the full body vaccum, full leg vaccum, a cascade, and a 300ft rope. Don't forget the saw."
"... uh... copy site."
"And send lots more people."

Not quite a patrol radio call, but funny nonetheless.

It was a brutally windy day, and the radio transmissions went sort of like this --

"Dispatch to any available lift maintenance..."

"Go for 39, base area."

"Assistance requested at the magic carpet. The shack is blowing over."

"(stifled laughter) 10-4, (more laughter) 39 responding, building blowing over at magic carpet."



Now if you guys could only listen in on our conversations at night. We groomers have a great time up there.

"Hey Jim... isn't it tempting just to till those skis up?"

"Yeah, 10-4. Or just push 'em out of the way."

"That's what they get for leaving them sitting here after 5:00!"

But alas, we could never do it. It's definitely a pain to have to articulate around 20 pairs of skis and random poles strewn around the base area.

If you saw my other post about the icy closed double black diamond trail, you know the story. The third time we had a someone slide down K27, the call went over the radio for a patroller with really sharp skis to respond to a possible on K27.
We put fencing up yesterday across the top of it, Just to let people know it is really closed.

Our mountain uses those bent metal carriers that hang our toboggans under the chair to get them back up the lift. Any names and locations have been changed to protect the "innocent".

<joe> Joe to base.
<base> Base on.
<joe> I'm on chair # 35 on the main lift about a quarter of the way up. Could you radio the top and have them stop the lift for me when I get there?
<base> Copy that. Uh, what exactly is the problem Joe?
<joe> <long pause> Well, I'm bringing up a standard sled and my ski pants are caught under the carrier. I'm pretty sure I won't be able to stand up to lift it off the seat.
<base> <trying not to laugh> Ok Joe, good luck with that.

...a couple of minutes go by...

<joe> Joe to base.
<base> Base on.
<joe> Cancel that request to stop the lift for me.
<base> Copy that Joe, will do. What is the situation?
<joe> Well, I was able to get the scissors out of my pack and I cut myself free.
<base> <again trying not to laugh> Thanks for the update Joe.

Now every patroller is laughing across the mountain and the peanut gallery cannot contain itself any longer.

<steve> Duck tape will fix those ski pants no problem Joe.
<paul> Way to take one for the team Joe.
<fred> Did you cut your leg off Joe, or just make a hole in your ski pants?

I was on the ski-doo approaching the summit when I barely heard the following radio call:

Clinic to John....

Now, John was on the ski doo with me, so he could not hear a thing.  I was able to reply and I got the following message:

"Dean, tell John to call his wife.  She is worried about him."

This was simply too good to pass up. Me being me, I asked for a confirmation of the message, thus ensuring that the entire mountain heard it a second time.  I got to the summit, stopped, turned around and told him the message (with an absolutely evil grin on my face). John started swearing, (btw, Merovingian from "The Matrix" was right, French is a great language for swearing)  whipped out his cell phone and called his wife.  For the rest of the night, the ribbing was absolutely merciless. 

Edited by Dean - 3/5/2009 at 05:07 am

 

Reminds me of a good patroller ribbing story.

 

A female customer asks me if Joe (name changed to protect the "innocent") still patrols here.  She is his cousin and hasn't seen him for many years and would like to see him.  I informed her that not only does he still patrol, but he's here today.  Through a few radio calls throughout the day (every time she saw a patroller she would ask where Joe was again), they were not able to get together.  Finally, at the end of the day with a room full of patrollers, she bounds through the door and yells "Hey Woody!  Long time no see!".  Now Joe, er Woody, already has a plethora of nicknames.  We have been torturing him ever since with twistings of the name and made up stories of where the previously unknown childhood nickname came from (we don't care where it really came from, as our stories are much more colorful).

 

 

I was pissed off.  We got a client in the clinic who had a severe concussion and was losing consciousness.  I was working like a dog on her, and when the ambulance left, I turned around and noticed that my gloves had been stolen.

It was the end of the evening, so I then went to the bottom of B lift to close it. (wearing my back-up gloves)  Because of the lousy turn of events, I was in one of my moods, and I decided that the only way to get out of my funk was to have a bit of fun.  My patrol shift supervisor always likes to know when we are closing the lift, so when I left the ground, I called to him that we were on the lift.  Then, when we got to the first tower, I called out that we were arriving at the first tower.  I did the same for the second tower.  And the third, and the fourth.  Same for the fifth.  I then called out that we were at the sixth.  Then for some reason, I forgot about 7, but I did radio that we had arrived at pylon 8.  At this point, my patrol director, who claimed that he was on the ski doo and that he had not heard a thing, called out to ask me what my position was.

At that point, the peanut gallery fell apart.

 

When my shift finished, I drove to the hospital, found my client, and got my gloves back.

A good night after all!!!

 

Edited by Dean - 3/5/2009 at 01:09 pm

In the hotseat - received a phone call about a injured woman halfway down Solitude.

I sent a third year patroller to check it out, and he took a rig with him.

 

"Eric to patrol"

"Go ahead Eric"

"Solitude appears to be dry."

"Copy dry run"

"Eric to patrol...upon further investigation, I realized that I did not actually ski Solitude.  You may want to send a bird dog from the hut"

"Copy - send bird dog"

From other unknown patroller - " B double E double R U N....beer run"

This was another one that was funny, but for another reason.  One of the Operations employees had, for some reason, brought his girlfriend with him that night, and she was accompanying him everywhere he went.  Nobody cared about this at all, as we all thought that he was trying to get her interested in working at the hill, and the Ops department is always looking for more lifties.  

At any rate, we were getting ready to close the mountain, and we were all lining up at our respective runs to begin the last sweep.  All of a sudden, a mic keyed, and we all heard the sounds of a very excited woman who was very obviously and noisily approaching orgasm.  We heard it for a few seconds before the participants shifted and the mic moved.  We all looked at each other and chuckled, but then our patrol leader, who managed to completely misinterpret the sounds, worriedly came on with the following call:

"This is the patrol, is there someone who is injured or who needs help?" 

I could hear the laughter across the entire mountain.

 

Well, we're closed for the summer as of Monday, so this is probably it for me.  I hope you all had a great season, and that you will all be here again in the fall.  Have a good  summer, everyone.

 

Dean.

 

^^^^^^  Winner winner chicken dinner!!!  ^^^^^^^^^^
 

 

Instead of a panty tree, people have been throwing Mardi Gras beads in a small pine tree at my local family oriented mountain.  People call it the Christmas Tree.  We've been wondering when the first negligee would show up.  Well, this past week someone finally tossed a pink bra into a very tall tree.  So it was glaringly obvious to everyone riding the chairlift.

 

I was in the process of strapping a young lady into the toboggan to bring her down to patrol (her boyfriend who has snowboarded three times convinced her to try it and twisted her knee and ankle about 50 feet into her first run ever - a topic for another thread maybe) when the call came out: 

 

Joe: Joe to base.

Base: Base on.

Joe: I'd like to report on a pink bra that some young lady has lost.  It is unfortunately empty.  (if anyone was going to make a joke about this over the radio, it would be Joe)

Base: <trying not to laugh> Base copies that.

Joe: I tried extracting it from the tree, but my pole was not long enough.

The peanut galley: Joe, maybe if you tried, uh, extending your pole, you could reach it.

Joe:  Thanks.  I'll try that next time around.

 

While laughing, I of course had to seize the moment and ask my patient if it is hers.  Thankfully, she and her boyfriend both had a sense of humor.

 

 

Fixed it for you

Hi, all.  Hope you had a good summer.  Well, we are back at it, and once again the shenanigans started up pretty quickly.  We have a new general director, and he decided to go boarding for the first time this year.  At this point in time, we have three trails open, and all of them lead to the same place. I was sitting in the clinic as he headed out, and I watched him until he got into the lift line, at which point I sent the following message.  
"Attention operations and patrol.  This is to advise you that George (not his real name) is currently going up the mountain.  If you see him, please make sure he takes the proper trail to get back down safely."
There was some chuckling in the clinic, but then another patroller came on with a headslapper moment.
"Dean."  she said.  "I did not understand.  What did you say?"
Well, after having been outed by one of my colleagues I sent the message again and this time it was understood, as evidenced by the laughter from the rental and customer service areas.  I spent the rest of the night avoiding George like the plague.

The story line is predictible, but I found it funny.

The setting:  Our patrol has 4 shifts, or tricks, that rotate throughout the day.  Patrollers sign up for one of them by sliding your name tag into a board.  Lifts had just opened and patrol is scattered about on different chair lifts.

Joe: Joe to base.
Base: Base on.
Joe: I forgot to sign up for a trick this morning.  Can you stick my name into a slot?
Base: Well, to be technically correct, I can slide your name into a slot.
Joe: One man's stick is another man's slide.
<Huh?  I couldn't comprehend why he would make such a strange reply, ignoring several obvious and more humorous ones, but Joe is famous for that>
<I waited several seconds, expecting many people to jump on this one at the same time, but no one did>
Me: Go ahead Joe, tell them where to stick it.