Alexis Leader discovered rock climbing and search and rescue at nearly the same time while she was in college. The two pursuits would eventually become deeply intertwined, giving her both a sense of peace and a way to serve others in the places she loves most.
Her introduction to search and rescue came through volunteers whose willingness to help strangers left a lasting impression. “These folks would drop everything to go out in the middle of the night, often in horrible weather, just to help someone in need,” Alexis says. “Getting to volunteer with the most selfless, amazing people inspired me. I wanted to learn all I could from them.”
Many of those volunteers were also rock climbers, which led Alexis to begin taking classes and developing her own skills. Although she had never considered herself especially athletic or coordinated, she found that the measured nature of climbing and mountaineering suited her perfectly.
“My brain has always felt loud, and climbing was one of the first times I felt a sense of peace,” she says. “Climbing and mountaineering are often slow and methodical. They’re perfect for me.”

Most people encounter search and rescue through a news report, often after a mission has concluded. What they do not see are the volunteers preparing equipment, studying maps, navigating difficult terrain, calling into the trees, and continuing to search even when the outcome is uncertain.
One mission remains particularly vivid for Alexis. A hiker had been missing for several days after setting out on a popular route. Rain had moved through the area, snow remained on the ground, and the missing person was believed to be relatively inexperienced and carrying no emergency supplies.
“We were all pretty worried about them,” Alexis remembers. “My team’s assignment was to scramble around the back side of the peak and search the area behind the summit.”
Not long into the search, the team found an empty water bottle. It could have been litter left by someone else, but it appeared recent enough to give them hope. The rescuers spread out and began calling the missing hiker’s name.
“Through the trees, we heard it: a faint reply,” Alexis says. “There is no greater feeling than hearing an answer to a voice check.”
The team quickly located the hiker and arranged for a helicopter evacuation. After days outside in cold, wet conditions, the hiker was exhausted but alive. They had survived with only a cotton hoodie for warmth and without food or water after the first day.
“Humans can be so resilient and tough,” Alexis says.
The rescue was an extraordinary reminder of what the human body can endure, but it also reinforced how much seemingly small choices can matter in the backcountry. Clothing, communication tools, extra food, water, and emergency layers may feel unnecessary when the forecast looks favorable and the plan is only to be outside for a few hours. If conditions change or an injury occurs, those items can become essential.

Not every mission ends with a faint voice answering through the trees. Alexis recently participated in an extensive search in Whatcom County that ultimately became a recovery rather than a rescue. While the private details of those experiences belong to the missing person and their loved ones, she wants people to understand the commitment responders bring to every search and the emotional toll of an outcome no one wanted.
“Sometimes missions don’t end the way we hope,” she says. “We always want to bring loved ones closure, and we will do all we can to help that happen.”
Searches can continue for weeks or even months, with volunteers repeatedly returning to rugged terrain and reviewing what they know in the hope of finding something that was previously missed. In some cases, despite that effort, the person is never found.
“These missions can be very challenging, and we try so hard to find each person who goes missing,” Alexis says. “Making the decision to call off a search is never taken lightly. If we had infinite resources, we would keep searching, but sometimes tough calls have to be made.”
The emotional weight of that work does not disappear when volunteers return home. Yet when the next call arrives, they answer because another person and another family need them.
Alexis’s experience as a climber eventually allowed her to join Seattle Mountain Rescue, a small and highly skilled team specializing in technical rescues. Every member brings a foundation in climbing and mountaineering, which allows the team to operate in steep, exposed, and complex alpine terrain.
“If I didn’t know how to climb, I would never have been able to join this search and rescue team,” Alexis says. “I’m so thankful that I get to put my climbing experience to good use by helping others out of challenging terrain.”
Search and rescue has also changed the way she thinks about her own safety in the mountains. She always wears a helmet while climbing, even when no one else at the crag is wearing one, because it is a simple precaution that can make a meaningful difference.
She has also learned that experience does not make someone invulnerable. Skilled hikers and climbers can still become injured, lost, or caught in changing conditions. Preparation matters, but the mountains will never be entirely predictable.
A search that sounds straightforward can quickly become an overnight mission. Terrain may be steeper than expected, weather can deteriorate, and rescuers may need to remain with an injured person for hours while an evacuation is arranged.
“Sometimes I have gone out on missions I thought would be quick, only to find myself sleeping on the side of a trail and trying as best as I could to curl inside my backpack for warmth,” Alexis says. “On other missions, we thought the terrain would be more mellow than it was, and we had to be prepared for anything.”
For personal climbing objectives, Alexis tries to move as lightly as possible. Search and rescue requires a different mindset. She carries multiple layers, including extras that can be given to the person being rescued or to another team member. Because many missions involve rain or snow, she prioritizes base layers that manage moisture while continuing to provide insulation.
“Getting soaked through without a change of clothes can be dangerous,” she says. “For search and rescue missions, bringing more is better. I need to switch my mindset and prepare for the unexpected.”
That preparation begins with the clothing closest to her skin. Over the course of a long day, a seam, damp fabric, or a waistband that will not stay in place can become more than a minor annoyance. Discomfort consumes attention, and attention is a critical resource in technical terrain.
“A good day in the mountains starts with wearing the right clothes,” Alexis says. “Trying to wear clothing that makes you uncomfortable with every step you take is agony. It is so important to find clothes that move with you and don’t hold you back.”
When navigating exposed terrain or working through a complicated rescue, Alexis wants her full attention available for the decisions in front of her. “If even a small part of my brain or subconscious is busy thinking about how uncomfortable I’m feeling, that’s energy I could be using to stay alert and focused.”
That is what she appreciates about wearing Paradis Sport while climbing, hiking, or responding to a call.
“Paradis is lightweight, inconspicuous, and never bunches,” she says. “The number of underwear brands I’ve tried is just silly. Finally finding one that fits me so well and makes me forget I’m even wearing it has been such a blessing.”
For Alexis, the line between adventure and a preventable emergency often comes down to preparation and communication. Even on a short outing, she recommends carrying a dependable way to call for help.
“An emergency beacon with two way messaging, like an inReach, is ideal,” she says. “Many phones can now provide some satellite messaging, but an inReach is still more reliable and the better option.”
For anyone traveling alone, Alexis recommends setting the device to track and share a location at regular intervals. If an injury leaves someone unable to activate the SOS function, that location history can give rescuers a valuable starting point.
If you realize you are lost or cannot safely continue, her advice is simple: stop moving and call for help as soon as you can.
“The age old advice of stopping as soon as you realize you’re lost or feel that you can’t safely keep moving is still true,” she says. “If you can, calling for help is always the right call.”
In the United States, search and rescue services are generally provided without charge, and Alexis does not want fear of a bill to stop someone from calling 911. Dispatchers can make sure the request reaches the appropriate local agency. Calling early can also prevent a difficult situation from becoming more dangerous for both the lost person and the people trying to reach them.
Search and rescue volunteers leave the comfort and predictability of their own lives to help people they have never met. They respond in darkness, bad weather, and uncertain conditions, knowing that a mission may last far longer or ask much more of them than expected.
Alexis continues to answer because she knows what it feels like to be the person waiting for help.
“I have been on the other side of it,” she says. “I know what it’s like to be injured far away from roads or hospitals. Knowing that help is coming and that you’re not alone is one of the best feelings in the world.”
Climbing may have first offered Alexis a quieter mind, but it also gave her the skills to enter difficult places on behalf of someone else. Search and rescue gave those skills a larger purpose. Together, they have taught her that preparation is an act of responsibility, resilience can reveal itself in astonishing ways, and simply showing up can change the course of another person’s worst day.
“If I can help make someone’s terrible day in the backcountry just a little better,” Alexis says, “then I’ll keep trying to make that happen.”
