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Thousands of search and rescue missions are conducted in the US each year. Who lives, who dies, and why?
The night is pitch black, and I cannot see a thing. I stumble out from the trees, hands stretched out like antennas. The sagebrush and rocks snag my feet, and I fall. My stomach drops. My heart skips a beat. My palms are scratched.
I am trying to find my campsite, a mile from the Idaho backcountry hot spring where I have just been soaking in. By the time I crawled out of the pool, night had fallen, and I could not find my headlamp or my lighter.
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