TRUCKEE, California — In a gut-punch revelation that has deepened the anguish surrounding California’s deadliest avalanche in recorded history, authorities have confirmed that one of the women swept away near Lake Tahoe was the beloved spouse of a dedicated volunteer with the Tahoe Nordic Search and Rescue Team—the very organization racing against time and ferocious weather to recover her remains and those of her friends.
The bombshell came during a somber news conference on Wednesday, February 18, 2026, as Placer County Sheriff Wayne Woo addressed the mounting tragedy. “This incident has specifically struck our organization and that team hard, as one of the nine missing decedents is a spouse of one of our Tahoe Nordic Search and Rescue team members,” Woo said, his voice heavy with emotion. He emphasized that the victim’s husband—a volunteer—was not part of the initial response crew to the February 17 slide, sparing him the unthinkable task of discovering his own wife’s body amid the debris.
The avalanche struck around 11:30 a.m. Tuesday in the remote Castle Peak area of the Sierra Nevada, just west of Truckee and north of Boreal Mountain Resort. A group of 15 experienced backcountry skiers, guided by professionals from Blackbird Mountain Guides, was returning from a three-day hut trip at Frog Lake when the massive wall of snow unleashed its fury. Six survivors—including one guide and five clients—were pulled from the chaos, but eight bodies have since been located, with a ninth skier still missing and presumed dead amid unrelenting blizzard conditions.
On Thursday, February 19, families released a joint statement identifying six of the victims as Carrie Atkin (Truckee-Tahoe region), Liz Clabaugh (Boise, Idaho), Danielle Keatley (Marin County), Kate Morse (Marin County), Caroline Sekar (San Francisco), and Kate Vitt (Greenbrae, Marin County). All were mothers in their 40s and early 50s—vibrant, accomplished women bonded by lifelong friendships, a shared passion for the outdoors, and regular adventures in the mountains. “We are devastated beyond words,” the statement read. “They were all mothers, wives and friends, all of whom connected through the love of the outdoors… consummate professionals… Nobody was new at this—this was no one’s first rodeo.”
The group included sisters Caroline Sekar, 45, a tech consultant and mother of two from San Francisco, and Liz Clabaugh, 52, a compassionate labor and delivery nurse from Boise. Their brother, McAlister Clabaugh, told The New York Times they were “the best people I’ve ever known.” Sekar’s husband, Kiren Sekar, shared a poignant tribute: “Caroline spent her final days doing what she loved best, with the people who loved her the most, in her favorite place.”
Kate Vitt, a former SiriusXM executive and mother of two young children, was remembered as a devoted mom whose energy lit up her Marin County neighborhood and schools. A school district email quietly confirmed the loss of one student’s mother, later tied to Vitt. Carrie Atkin, a former corporate executive and Harvard-educated Division I athlete, lived locally in the Tahoe area with her husband and children.
While authorities have not publicly named which victim was married to the Tahoe Nordic rescuer, the connection has hit the tight-knit search community like a second avalanche. Tahoe Nordic Search and Rescue, a mostly volunteer force, deployed 28 members with snowcats to the scene alongside Nevada County Sheriff’s Office teams, Placer County deputies, and other agencies. The emotional toll is immense: rescuers who routinely save strangers now grieve one of their own families.
Recovery operations have been repeatedly stalled by whiteout blizzards, high winds, and extreme danger. Nevada County Sheriff Shannan Moon shifted the mission from rescue to recovery on Wednesday, but hazardous conditions prevented teams from accessing the site Thursday. “It will be at least another day before crews can attempt to recover the bodies,” a sheriff’s spokesperson said. The delay prolongs agony for families desperate for closure.
This wasn’t a group of reckless thrill-seekers. The skiers were seasoned, fully equipped with avalanche beacons, probes, shovels, and training. They trusted professional guides and respected the mountains’ power. Yet even expertise couldn’t outmatch nature’s wrath: heavy recent snowfall atop an unstable base created the perfect recipe for catastrophe.
The tragedy echoes through communities from the Bay Area to Idaho. In Marin County, vigils and fundraisers honor the lost moms. In Truckee and Tahoe, locals with ties to Sugar Bowl Resort and its ski academy mourn friends deeply embedded in the alpine world. The Tahoe Nordic team, already exhausted from the grueling response, now carries personal grief while pressing on.
Sheriff Woo captured the raw pain: “It’s been an emotional impact and we’re all trying to support the family.” For the rescuer husband, the mountains he has sworn to protect have claimed the woman he loved most. For the survivors, the guilt and trauma of outliving dear friends. For the families, an irreplaceable void.
As storms rage on and recovery inches forward, this avalanche stands as California’s most lethal on record—a brutal reminder that even in paradise, danger lurks beneath pristine powder. The women who died weren’t just victims; they were pillars of love, friendship, and adventure. Their legacy endures in every powder turn their loved ones take, forever shadowed by the slide that stole them too soon.
