The Real Danger in Utah’s Outdoors Isn’t What You Think

This week, I had the opportunity to be featured in the Salt Lake Tribune, discussing something I care deeply about: wilderness medical preparedness.

Utah’s outdoor recreation economy is exploding. More people are hiking, climbing, skiing, camping, overlanding, and exploring remote places than ever before. That’s a good thing. I want people outside. I want families outside. I want kids to learn confidence and resilience in wild places.

But there’s a growing problem most people never think about until it’s too late.

Lost Creek Wilderness, CO (TLA's Women's Backpacking Trip 2025)

The danger usually isn’t the mountain.

It’s the gap between the incident and definitive medical care.

In wilderness medicine, we call this “delayed care.” That delay changes everything.

A simple ankle injury in town is inconvenient. A simple ankle injury six miles from the trailhead becomes a completely different problem.

A minor wound that gets ignored can become an evacuation. Dehydration can spiral into an altered mental status. A small mistake can become a Search and Rescue call.

And right now, SAR teams across Utah are overwhelmed.

Many people assume Search and Rescue is some giant government machine with unlimited resources. It’s not. Most teams are made up of highly trained volunteers who sacrifice their time, sleep, equipment, and safety to help strangers.

The reality is that many wilderness emergencies are preventable. Others can be managed long enough for people to self-evacuate safely if someone in the group has even basic medical training.

That’s why I believe wilderness medical education matters so much.

Courses like Wilderness First Aid (WFA) and Wilderness First Responder (WFR) are not about turning people into paramedics. They are about teaching calm, structured decision-making under pressure.

Can the patient walk out?

Should you stay or go?

Is this stable or unstable?

Are things improving or deteriorating?

Those questions matter.

Good wilderness medicine is not just about treatment. It is about preventing bad decisions before they become emergencies.

One of the biggest mindset shifts I try to teach students is this:

The goal is not perfection. The goal is buying time and reducing consequences.

That changes how people move through the outdoors.

They carry better gear.

They make smarter decisions.

They recognize problems earlier.

They stop pushing when conditions change.

And honestly, they enjoy the outdoors more because confidence replaces panic.

I’m grateful to the Salt Lake Tribune for opening the conversation about preparedness, delayed care, and the increasing strain on rescue systems here in Utah. But the article only scratches the surface.

This is a conversation our outdoor culture needs to keep having.

Because the outdoors are not becoming less crowded. And emergency response systems are not becoming less strained.

The question is whether we are willing to raise our preparedness levels as outdoor recreation grows.

If you spend time in the outdoors regularly, wilderness medical training is no longer optional in my opinion. It is part of responsible recreation.

And maybe more importantly, it helps you become the kind of person others can rely on when things go sideways.

That matters.

Read the full Salt Lake Tribune article here:Voices: I’m a wilderness EMT. The real danger in Utah’s outdoors isn’t what you think.