Lying on the ground, he leaned his head and saw the small bird that filled the air with the sounds of a warm summer afternoon. The sun had woken him earlier and lit the mountaintops, which burst into an array of color.

As the summer breeze cooled him, Alexander Ryan thought of the events that placed him deep in the heart of the Cascade Mountain Range, and the five friends who braved the rugged terrain alongside him. It would have been a perfect moment had it not been for the searing pain throbbing through his left ankle.

The men made great time July 16, traveling more than seven miles and climbing more than 4,400 feet. It had not been easy, considering Mr. Ryan was carrying a 52-pound pack. But hiking with his friends up a steep pass, he lost his footing in a stream and caught and broke his ankle between two boulders.

“It felt like someone had taken a hot iron and ground it through the bones of my leg,” Mr. Ryan said. The Washington native could have walked out. In fact, he walked a mile from the stream back to his camp. Once there, the men, including a doctor, decided it would be best to call for help to prevent further damage to the ankle.

“Thank God one of my friends had a cell phone and Global Positioning System (unit so) we were able to … call for help,” he said.

Unknown to him, less than a 20 minute flight away, a man was caught in another type of distress. He was trapped in the bitter grasp of the mountains -- his 12-year-old son in agony before him with a broken tibia in his left leg. That evening, around 10 p.m., a rescue crew of local sheriffs officers and medics, arrived at their position. But because of the steep incline, they were unable to bring a stretcher with them.

“It was incredibly steep terrain, and no search and rescue team could have transported anyone out,” said Gene Ellis, a deputy sheriff.

That night, the sheriff’s department called the Air Force Rescue Coordination Center at Langley Air Force Base, Va. Flying in and out of mountainous terrain at night, at altitudes exceeding 6,000 feet, is too risky to scramble rescue teams, officials said. So they called them in the following morning.

“We had already flown a training mission and were sitting in our out brief when the call came in,” said Capt. Zach Guza, the aircraft commander for the mission. “For months, we hadn’t received any calls and then (July 17) we received two. It seems to work like that.”

The first rescue mission of the day for the 36th Rescue Flight’s Airmen here pitted the UH-1N Huey helicopter crew against thousand-foot sheer cliffs, hot temperatures and the high altitudes of the unforgiving terrain.

“The hotter and windier the weather, the more dangerous the mission,” Captain Guza said. “That day we were blessed with low winds and beautiful, perfect weather.” Although the crew had the blue sky to save lives, their No. 1 challenge was not smashing into the mountains of solid rock surrounding the extraction point.

“The combination of timber and mountain peeks makes it dangerous to fly and hover. These guys definitely have a dangerous job, and they’re great at it,” Mr. Ellis said.

Arriving at the location of the father and son, the Airmen dropped off a flight medic, Tech. Sgt. Brian Richie, for an initial survey. At first glance, they saw a small, open grassy field that looked like a tempting landing spot. But after picking up Sergeant Richie everyone looked straight up to a spot high up the mountain. That is where the father and son were.

“It was amazing terrain,” Captain Guza said. “I’m not sure how they got up there.” Hovering 50 feet above the 50-degree slope on which they were stranded, the rescue team hoisted the boy and his father to safety and moved them to a concrete pad outside Leavenworth, Wash. An ambulance met them there and took them to the nearest hospital.

The rescue team was back at it after a pit stop for fuel. They easily found Mr. Ryan and two companions by following the GPS coordinates they received via cell phone.

“We kept going up and up, looking at the coordinates and kept going,” Captain Guza said. “We came to a high mountain lake that had huge cliffs on one side and a mountain ridge on the other -- it was beautiful.” The men were waiting for the Airmen on the mountain ridge and soon heard the first whooping of helicopter blades.

“It couldn’t have sounded any better,” Mr. Ryan said. Once the Airmen saw the hikers, they determined the wind direction and speed needed for the safest landing angle and approach direction. Once on the ground, they loaded Mr. Ryan and his gear and flew him to safety.

Although the small bird Mr. Ryan listened to earlier sounded sweet, he said the 1969 helicopter that took him home sounded a lot sweeter. [ANN Salutes Staff Sgt. Nathan Gallahan, 92nd Air Refueling Wing Public Affairs]

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