Evans and other emergency response pilots California Wind, fog and smoke from fires affect rescue helicopters’ flying decisions, but the wave of intense heat now sweeping the West is also impacting how rescue helicopters perform their missions.
Human-caused climate change is driving up temperatures and shifting activity across much of the state. REACH Air Medical Services, which operates 30 helicopter bases across California, turned down at least two calls for rescue over the weekend because of the extreme heat, said Vicki Spaaich, the company’s chief operating officer. “This is pretty unusual. There are pockets, but this is more widespread,” Spaaich said.
The company sometimes reroutes planes in hot weather to land at airports with fewer obstacles rather than at the site, as landing in tight spaces can require more engine power, which can be difficult in high temperatures, said Spadiacci, a pilot for 40 years.
The heat has hindered patient evacuation and rescue efforts in the region’s national parks, where the vast wilderness can rely on helicopters to help with search and rescue operations when hikers get lost or stranded on remote trails.
Park rangers said that national parks, including Joshua Tree and Death Valley, are warning visitors that helicopters may not be able to reach climbers because of the heat. Temperatures have already topped 122 degrees Fahrenheit in parts of California this year, including Death Valley, often preventing medical helicopters from flying.
Authorities said heat prevented helicopters from responding to rescues in Death Valley this weekend after six motorcyclists were riding together through the park. One person died from the heat, another was taken to a hospital “treated for severe heatstroke,” and four were treated at the scene and released, authorities said.
“Due to the high temperatures, emergency medical helicopters were unable to respond as helicopters typically cannot safely fly above 120 degrees Fahrenheit,” the news release said, noting that the temperature that day was 128 degrees Fahrenheit.
Death Valley National Park ranger Nicole Andler said in an interview Tuesday that the person who died was pronounced dead at the scene. Rangers called for a helicopter for the seriously injured, she said, but it did not come because it was too hot. The injured person was taken by ambulance to a hospital in Pahrump, Nevada, and then to Las Vegas, she said. Their condition is unknown.
Andler told The Washington Post earlier this month that during the summer, the park receives one to three requests a month for an ambulance helicopter to transport people to medical facilities. Sometimes patients are taken by ambulance to higher, cooler altitudes where a helicopter can take off and land safely.
“The more frequent the temperatures get, the harder it becomes to help,” Andler said.
Helicopter rescues take place three to five times a year in Joshua Tree National Park in Southern California, known for its dramatic desert landscapes, where temperatures topped 110 degrees over the weekend, said park ranger Anna Marini.
A few weeks ago, Marini said, the park called in a helicopter for a hiker who’d gone off trail in the middle of the afternoon and suffered from heatstroke. The terrain was uneven and not easily accessible by vehicle, but the temperature was cool enough for a helicopter rescue. Had it been hotter, however, Marini said, such a rescue might not have been possible.
“The extreme heat puts a lot of strain on helicopters,” Marini said, “which could affect our operations.”
When it’s hot outside, the air is thinner, meaning a helicopter’s blades have less air to grab. This affects the plane’s ability to take off and navigate. Onboard systems can overheat and stop working, forcing pilots to adjust weight, equipment, and route planning — or even abandon the flight altogether.
Evans, who works for Stanford Life Flight, Stanford University Hospital’s medical helicopter response program, assessed the situation on Sunday and learned the helicopter was at risk of engine, radio and computer failure.
“This is something we have to be more careful about now,” Evans said. “We can see temperatures are rising, and we expect it’s only going to get worse.”
Around 5:30 p.m., the team in Reading, who had initially declined the request because of the heat, decided the temperature had cooled enough to transport the patient, said Michael Baulch, program manager for Stamford LifeFlight. They arrived in Stamford around 8 p.m. but lost valuable time waiting for the temperature to cool.
By Tuesday, the patient was in stable condition, Baulch said.
Stanford’s fleet of Airbus EC-145s are primed for many missions: They can transport newborns from one facility to another, ferry open-chest patients midway through heart surgery to more advanced operating rooms across the state, and weave briskly through rush-hour traffic to the scene of a car accident much faster than an ambulance could.
“When it’s that hot, you can’t lift that much weight,” Baulch said. “You have to leave people or equipment behind.”
The 40-year-old unit operates from as far south as Santa Barbara to as far east as Reno, Nevada, and handles about 480 medical evacuation trips each year, about 30 percent of which are 911 emergency call responses.
Deep beneath the grounds of the Stanford hospital, the control room is bustling with half a dozen staff members and at least 20 screens, fielding calls and requests for medical air support around the clock. When a call comes in, a controller radios in to ask the pilot if the weather is suitable for flying.
“To avoid prejudice, we will not share the details of the incident with the pilot,” Baulch said.
Once the flight is cleared, the nurse on duty and the pilot climb into the helicopter wearing thick, fire-resistant fly suits.
The Stanford team was feeling the heat as they flew over the Santa Cruz Mountains: Temperatures were in the 90s Fahrenheit, but the helicopter stayed in the sun while the crew trained local firefighters and park rangers on how to assist in rescue efforts.
Pilot Evans said the engine had become too hot for safe flight.
Hard-to-breath maroon suits covered the crew’s legs and arms on this cloudless Saturday, and the sun blazed through the cockpit windows while air-conditioning vents blew feeble air.
The flight lasted just five minutes, but once they landed, staff shed their jackets and reached for chilled bottles of water and cold snacks stored at the base for a flight that could last up to two hours.
“You basically just sit there and let it bake,” said flight nurse Kent Kramer, licking a lime-green popsicle.
Another nurse, Kevin So, wheeled out a bulky turquoise device that crew members affectionately call “the Snork,” a box with a hose attached to it that will pump cool air into the cockpit while the plane is parked on the runway.
Evans sometimes increases the altitude to allow the helicopter to cool, but higher altitude often means less oxygen is delivered to already distressed patients.
Even below the 122-degree limit, high temperatures can affect the team’s operations. “Any time it gets above 104 degrees, we can only be on the ground for 15 minutes,” Evans said.
Evans said he wanted to be a pilot from an early age, starting out by flying small planes, but then he realized he enjoyed flying sideways and backwards, hovering and through trees more. Flying planes to save lives makes the job rewarding.
His favorite missions are the ones that involve obstacles, like landing on a bridge or beach, or piloting a helicopter in the middle of a city.
But the heat is an obstacle he didn’t anticipate, and he expects his job will be made even harder if he has to turn down more flights.
“Saying no is the hardest part of the job,” he said.
