newsminer.com

If you suffer a serious accident far from an airport, the chances of getting help in a hurry are not going to be the same after Monday.

Because of wartime demands, the U.S. Army is ending the MAST helicopter rescue program July 1 in Interior Alaska.

This has never been an Army responsibility, but a public service that doubles as on-the-job training for pilots, medics and other crewmen.

There is nothing in place that could come close to matching what the Army service has meant to this region of Alaska or the hundreds of people whose lives have been saved or whose suffering has been eased.

There will still be medical evacuations by helicopter, but local experts tell me that instead of getting help in an hour or so, extra travel time and layers of communication could mean a delay of two to four hours, depending upon when and where the emergency occurs.

The extra hours could be the difference between life and death.

Through MAST, which stands for Military Assistance to Safety and Traffic, Army helicopter crews have flown about 1,000 missions during the last three decades from Fort Wainwright, often under hazardous conditions.

During the last two years, the MAST crews averaged more than one mission a week, said city Fire Chief Warren Cummings in a memo to Mayor Terry Strle. About five or six times a year, victims have to be hoisted from spots where a helicopter can not land.

“It is estimated that it would take 200 to 300 calls per year and more than a $2 million budget to make it possible for a private helicopter operation in Fairbanks to succeed,” Cummings said. “These numbers do not include search and rescue capabilities.”

“Hopefully the cities and borough will work to get a rotary Air Guard helicopter stationed in the Interior on a year-round basis,” he said.

The MAST pilots and crewmen have handled everything from gunshot victims to bus accidents and plane crashes across untold thousands of square miles in Interior and northern Alaska.

The significance of the loss will hit home as soon as someone needs help and doesn’t get to the hospital in time, a situation that could occur any day.

The Alaska State Troopers will still be the point of contact for medevac requests without MAST in place.

When called for an evacuation that requires a helicopter, the troopers will contact the Rescue Coordination Center in Anchorage, which will decide what resources are available to respond.

An Air Guard unit from Anchorage usually has a helicopter at Eielson from Monday through Friday to support the Air Force military mission. If Air Force pilots are training, the helicopter could respond in about 45 minutes if they are not on some other task.

But the response could take about three hours when Air Force flight operations are not happening, according to a memo summarizing a recent planning session.

On weekends, the helicopter would have to come from Anchorage.

Two private companies — Guardian Flight and Warbelows — are looking at the situation and trying to develop a plan. The big obstacle is the cost.

I think we don’t know just yet how lucky we’ve been to have the men and women of Company C of the 1st Battalion, 52nd Aviation Regiment, and the units that preceded them, performing this service 365 days a year in all kinds of weather.

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BIKE RIDE: Three of my friends and I made a half-hearted effort in the Chena Hot Springs Bike Classic on Saturday. With the early morning rain as an excuse, we lowered our expectations and took part in the 30-mile ride, leaving the 60-mile version to those with higher aspirations.

The shorter route began at Pleasant Valley. I find that if you like to get wet, a good way to do so is to ride a bike in the rain. I was dressed in a yellow rain jacket and yellow rain pants, an outfit that one of my daughters once said made me look like a banana.

My wife said, “Dermot comes with extra baggage,” a remark aimed at the bags strapped to the back of my bike, which were loaded with extra stuff I didn’t need.

My mental state at the end can be summed up by the inexplicable comment I heard coming out of my mouth after I went swimming and sat down to the post-race lunch. “How did we get here?” I asked.

A friend at the table said it reminded him of the Saturday Night Live parody of Admiral James Stockdale, who infamously opened a vice presidential debate with the words, “Who am I? Why am I here?”