Marysville Appeal-Democrat

How Death Valley National Park tries to keeps visitors alive amid record heat

- By Noah Haggerty

As temperatur­es swelled to 128 degrees, Death Valley National Park rangers got a call that a group of six motorcycli­sts were in distress. All available medics rushed to the scene, and rangers dispatched the park’s two ambulances.

It was an “all-hands-ondeck call,” said Spencer Solomon, Death Valley National Park’s emergency medical coordinato­r. The superheate­d air was too thin for an emergency helicopter to respond, but the team requested mutual aid from nearby fire department­s.

They arrived Saturday to find one motorcycli­st unresponsi­ve, and medics labored unsuccessf­ully to resuscitat­e him. Another rider who had fallen unconsciou­s was loaded into an ambulance, where emergency medical technician­s attempted to rapidly cool the victim with ice as they transporte­d him to an intensive care unit in Las Vegas. The four other motorcycli­sts were treated at the site and released.

With record heat blanketing California and much of the West recently, Death Valley has hit at least 125 degrees every day since the Fourth of July, and that streak isn’t likely to change until the weekend, according to the National Weather Service.

Extreme heat is both one of Death Valley’s greatest intrigues and its most serious safety concern. It’s not uncommon for a few people to die in the park from heatstroke in any given summer.

Located 200 feet below sea level and surrounded by steep, towering mountain ranges that trap heat, the valley is consistent­ly among the hottest places on Earth.

In the summer, internatio­nal travelers often schedule their trips without considerin­g the weather. (All six of the men who fell victim to extreme temperatur­es near Badwater Basin on Saturday were from Germany.)

But even Southern California residents who are familiar with Death Valley’s hellish reputation will trek to the park just to experience the otherworld­ly heat.

“In L.A., people said, ‘No, don’t go out there; you’re crazy,’” said Nick Van Schaick, who visited the park early this week. He had spent the night in the nearby town of Beatty, Nev., then drove into the park at the crack of dawn Tuesday. “I don’t know. … There’s something compelling about this landscape.”

Virtually all heat-related deaths are preventabl­e, experts say, but what makes heat so dangerous is that it sneaks up on its victims.

The risk of Death

Valley’s heat seems painfully obvious. It’s hard to miss the dozens of “Heat kills” signs throughout the park, and stepping out of a car there for the first time feels like sticking your face in an opened oven. Within seconds, your eyes begin to burn and your lips crack. Your skin feels completely dry — even though you’re sweating profusely, the sweat evaporates almost instantane­ously.

But one of the first symptoms people experience as their core temperatur­e begins to rise is confusion, which can inhibit a person’s ability to recognize that something is wrong or understand how to save themselves.

Studies have also shown that although almost everyone understand­s how to prevent heat illness, too few take action to protect themselves. That’s in part because many think they are uniquely able to handle the heat when in fact they are not. In 2021, a Death Valley visitor died from heat just days after another visitor had died on the same trail.

It’s a one-two punch. Hikers ignore the symptoms of heat exhaustion because they’re excited to hike or have nowhere else to go, said Bill Hanson, an instructor for Wilderness Medical Associates Internatio­nal and a flight paramedic in central Texas who specialize­s in heat-related emergencie­s. Then, “when a person reaches a pretty profound state of heat exhaustion — which by itself is not a lethal condition — and they’re still in that environmen­t, the likelihood they’ll make the right decisions and reverse the process ... is reduced because they have a reduced ability to make good decisions at all.”

One of the reasons that humans are quickly overcome by extreme heat is that there’s only one route for heat to exit the body. Blood carries heat from our core to our skin, and, when the breeze is too hot to carry heat away from us, the body can release it only through the evaporatio­n of sweat. Any of that sweat that drips to the ground or is wiped off the face is a missed opportunit­y to cool down.

In Death Valley, the air is so dry that sweat evaporates very easily, unlike in humid climates where the atmosphere contains more moisture. With profuse sweating, however, dehydratio­n comes quickly. The park recommends visitors do their best to replenish lost water and drink at least a gallon a day if they’re spending time doing any physical activity outside.

But sweating and constant hydration will work only to a point.

“A 130-degree environmen­t ... there’s going to be a limited shelf life on a human body’s ability to exist in that environmen­t without some technologi­cal support,” Hanson said.

Because of this, the park says to never hike after 10 a.m. during periods of extreme heat and recommends never straying more than five minutes away from the nearest air conditioni­ng, whether it be in a car or building.

In the heat, sticking in groups can also save lives. While it might be difficult for a confused heat illness victim to recognize the symptoms or remember how to save themselves, friends can spot problems. In general, if you struggle to do anything that is normally easy for you — physically or mentally — stop to rest and seek cooler conditions immediatel­y.

Muscle cramps are often the first sign the body is struggling to stay cool. They’re probably caused by a toxic concoction of dehydratio­n, muscle fatigue and a lack of electrolyt­es like sodium, which are essential for chauffeuri­ng water and nutrients throughout the body. Cramps are a sign that the body’s process for dumping heat is under stress.

As the body struggles, heat exhaustion starts to set in. The brain, heart and other organs become tired from working to maintain the body’s typical temperatur­e of 98 degrees. As the body passes 101 degrees, victims can start experienci­ng dizziness, confusion and headaches. It’s not uncommon for them to vomit, feel weak or even faint.

As the body passes

104 degrees, the entire central nervous system — responsibl­e for regulating heat in the first place

— can no longer handle the stress of the high temperatur­es. It starts to shut down. The victim might get so confused and disoriente­d that they no longer make sense. They might not even be able to communicat­e. They can start to have seizures and fall into a coma.

“To me, as a park medic, if you’re unresponsi­ve, you’re going to the hospital,” Solomon said, “because your brain is essentiall­y cooking.”

At this point, the heat has done irreversib­le damage that can leave the victim disabled for years to come. If internal temperatur­es don’t fall quickly, death becomes a very real possibilit­y. Organs can fail within hours, killing the victim, even after their temperatur­e starts to drop.

Heat illness can come on within just minutes or take hours to develop. “There’s kind of a weird phenomenon where there’s two times of day where we’ll get 911 calls for people who have fallen ill” due to heat sickness, Solomon said.

One is in the middle of the afternoon, when the heat is at its worst.

The other is near 11 p.m. — visitors will feel OK during the day, but get increasing­ly dehydrated as they continue to exert themselves. “Then, they check into their hotel room and fall ill,” Solomon said.

In some extreme cases, heatstroke can overwhelm a person so fast that muscle cramps and other symptoms of heat exhaustion don’t have time to show. The Death Valley emergency response team typically gets about two or three heat illness calls per week in the summer, with visitors experienci­ng symptoms across the spectrum from mild fatigue to loss of consciousn­ess.

Heatstroke experts overwhelmi­ngly agree on the most effective treatment: cooling the patient as fast as possible.

“The key to survival is getting their body temperatur­e under 104 within 30 minutes of the presentati­on of the condition,” said Douglas Casa, a professor of kinesiolog­y at the University of Connecticu­t and the chief executive of the Korey Stringer Institute, a leading voice in treating heatstroke­s.

“It’s 100% survivabil­ity if you do that, which is amazing because there’s not too many lifethreat­ening emergencie­s in the world that have 100% survivabil­ity if treated correctly.”

The fastest way to cool a patient is a cool ice bath, experts say. Hanson said his team in Texas will fly an ice bath on a helicopter and cool the victim in the middle of the desert until their temperatur­e stabilizes before the medics even transport them.

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