I did last Tuesday. We overnighted in Durango Colorado. After a very nice lunch, the pilot decided to take a nap. I threw on my daypack and headed west of town. I came to this mountain of dirt. From where I am standing at 6500' the mountain rises another 1000'. I wanted to go over it and continue on to the west. This thing was far steeper than it looked to me.
It continued to steepen as I neared the top to the point that I was having a difficult time going up it. I could reach out and touch the path in front of me. I felt as though I would peel off and fall into a crevass. I was soon on all fours and getting a bit worried. To my horror, when I came to the top, it was straight down in every direction. I tried a few things but had to come partway down the way I went up. I prayed for airlift. Finally I make my way down the knife edge of loose dirt. Soon I found a way that looked better but soon deteriorated horribly. There were some plants here that had been broken off by unlucky predecessors. After a long arduous time I found my way down to the canyon floor without injuring myself fatally. My legs were totally blown. They felt like wood.
Even though I had to walk like a robot for the next mile, I felt more alive than before. I can't believe I got myself into that situation. I am in reasonably good shape. Last Sunday we went out on a two hour conditioning hike, for backpacking, over very steep ground and my pack was 45 lbs. No soreness the next day, but after this dirt mountain, my legs and lats are still sore from the incredible steep terrain.
I went to a great outdoor shop on the way back and made myself a custom topo map from this really cool machine that they had. It would have taken four quads to get the area I wanted. Now I will have a better idea where I am headed. Sometime the view can be decieving.
Have you ever gotten yourself into something that you thought you might not get out of and asked yourself, OMG, What have I done?
Wow! Thats quite an adventure.. Im Glad you are ok. By the looks of the picture, Id say nearly everyone who reads this thread would have done the same thing... Myself included. Oh that reminds me, I had an OMG experience too...
( for you original members, I apologize for digging this one up again! )
Ill make it short... While attempting Quartz Peak, I turned left when I should have gone right.. blah blah blah....now My car is stuck in the sand.
Out of cell phone range - 1 liter of water - Temperature approaching 100.
After several hours of digging and jacking and finding large rocks to put under tires, I gave up. I walked over 12 miles in the soft sand untill i reached a point where I could make a call and get some help... Now think about what I just said... 12 miles, SOFT SAND, 100 degrees! Lets chat about some hurting legs, hips and feet. Not to mention sunburn.
So I left the house at 6 am, planned to be up and down the trail by 10 am and back home by noon...I had to leave my car out there overnight, got a truck and pulled it out the next day.
It could have been alot worse, nobody knew where I was and I didnt see another human being untill my rescue arrived. ( and I usually leave my cell phone at home! )
I defeated Quartz peak a few months later... I didnt tell my wife untill after I got home tho!
I will say that the single most scared I have ever been in my life was down in Brazil. Myself and a couple of friends were outside lighting off some fireworks on the 4th of July (nostalgia - what can I say...) and this nutcase comes running out of the adjacent appartment firing a gun at us. The dirt was kicking up at our feet so we knew he had real bullets. He held the gun to my head screaming at me so violently I could barely understand him. But I did catch 'out to the street' and 'kill you.' Nothing quite like having a raving lunatic hold a gun to your head while he's screaming and frothing at the mouth - and you can't really understand him well enough to try and reason with him.
Understand that it's just like the old west where I was at and he was more likely to herd us out into the street to shoot us (so the city would have to clean up the mess) as do the job back behind the appartment building (where he would have to do the cleanup).
Anyway - to make a long story short - we managed to convince him that we wern't a threat and went back inside our appartment unhurt. We found out later that the dude really was mental and that he had shot people before, but 'only in the leg or something - so it's not that big of a deal' as one of the locals put it. Thanks - very comforting.
I have had a number of occasions while hiking where I thought I was going to die. And a number when I had to haul someone out who just about died. I did a number of search and rescue operations in NM one summer - and I can tell you that there are some SERIOUSLY stupid people out there.
But then, considering some of the stupid things I've done - I fall under that category as well.
I've been:
- bitten by copperhead snakes whilst hiking in the swamps of Houston (twice)
- nearly struck by lightning (less than 7ft away) (3 times)
- caught in a MAJOR downpour on an exposed mountainside (hypothermia there - not much fun)
I've never been seriously injured on the trail myself - but I have:
- hauled a 300lb dude off the top of a 12,000ft peak when he fell and nearly broke his hip (6 of us carried him in one of those canoe type stretchers that was suspended from support we had strapped on like backpacks - VERY unfun)
- piggybacked an injured hiker to safety/medical help 3 times (record was 3 miles)
So the bottom line - I may be unlucky and/or dangerous - but I've always come back alive - and I'll do my damndest to make sure everyone with me does the same.
The most awkward of all moments is worth telling though. I took two women into the backcountry for some hiking - one of them (a 17 yr old) decided to do some rock-climbing, she didn't have a clue, she just thought it was cool. Fell and ripped two very large gashes in her knee. We carried her to the nearest cabin and did some emergency medicine and got her stabilized. We radioed in for transportation out - but they said it was getting dark and they couldn't come. So we were told to keep her comfortable till morning and they would be out at first light.
That night was not fun. The worst was at one point she had to go to the bathroom. We didn't want her to move and get the wound bleeding again - so we decided on another plan. I would lift her up (I was the only one strong enough there that could do it) and the others would slide a baking pan under her and she would pee in the pan. Of course I would have to be blindfolded for the whole operation so I wouldn't see anything.
So there I am - blindfolded, holding a wounded girl off the floor, listening to urine hit a baking pan in the middle of the night - it was right then I thought - OMG, how did I get myself into this situation.
By the way - the next morning when the doctor got there, he freaked out on the emergency staff and said that her injury was serious enough that they should have risked the nightime trek. She ended up with 50+ stiches. I was a little pissed they didn't come that night as well.
The scariest adventure I've had hiking was also the most fun! (Now that we're home and uninjured!) Diamond and I, not knowing anything, chose the FlatIron for our SECOND hike! Of course in those days, we had a couple bottles of water, and that's it! No knife, no phone, no food, no bandaids! Well when you get to the slippery rock area, (we read later) you are supposed to navigate to the right. Not knowing any better, we thought it looked easier to go left! Wearing our K-Mart all-purpose gardening boots (or whatever), we made it halfway up the slippery rock before we lost traction and ended up laying on our stomachs like geckos in the middle of it all! BOTH OF US!!! And the worst part is, we were laughing so hard we couldn't move! Moral of the story: Do some research before you head out! Check it out on HAZ!
Back in 1973, having read all the Colin Fletcher books about solo backpacking with no tent, I decided to try it. I had been backpacking about 3 times with a friend before that. So I'm out there in the Cuyamaca Mtns. east of San Diego, by myself, in my sleeping bag with no tent. At three a.m. I was awakened by the most horrific screaming, like in a horror movie. If you've heard that a mountain lion screams like a woman, you've heard correctly. Worst thing was, I had to pee really badly, but waited until it got light before I dared get out of the sleeping bag.
Yes, I did go solo packing again, but I took a tent! I will still sleep under the stars, though, if someone else is nearby.
Tony and I heard a mountain lion in Woods Canyon. The scream is daunting. Especially in a canyon where you know you're trapped. I believe that it was right after we had examined some large bones.
I have had too many of these situations. I can’t decide if I have really bad luck, or really good luck. Thankfully, it usually happens in that order, so I’m still here to tell the tales.
The most recent was a mountain lion encounter last spring, you can read about that one in the Articles section in the Bear Encounters article.
The first, and maybe worst, had nothing to do with bad luck at all, just youthful stupidity. Warning, long story. About 13 years ago, my outdoor skills involved driving out to someplace remote and random, going for a walk and turning around when it got too late or I got too tired. No maps, no compass, no first aid, no trail knowledge, no plan, and no gear other than an old military surplus pack with some water, water filter, tarp, food, a pocket knife, and sometimes a tent and a blanket. Amazingly, this had been working out for me for some time.
It was the middle of the summer, and I had started out solo early in the morning on Bloody Basin rd. off of I-17. The plan was to get to the Verde River and explore for a couple of days. Hours later, I ended up with my truck stuck in the bottom of a deep wash. I spent a couple hours digging my truck out and then discovered that both the way I came in and the way the road kept going were too steep for my little 2WD truck. I tried to make it up both sides several times, but it wasn’t happening. Since I was planning on making it to the river, I had only brought enough water for about a day, and the day was almost over when I realized that I wouldn’t be making it to the river or anyplace else in my truck. The sun was low and I was beat, so I went to sleep in the cab of the truck.
The next morning, I got up early and tried to figure out what to do. My truck wasn’t very visible where it was, so I hiked the road back up the last hill. I pitched my bright yellow tent in an open area on top, then I laid out a bunch of tin-foil I had in a big square on the ground and weighted it down with rocks. Then, I hiked further up the road, to the last fork (where apparently, I chose wrong), and I tied some rope across the road and left a note tied to it describing my situation and location. By then, the sun was over the horizon and it was getting hot. I figured that if my truck wasn’t going to take me anywhere, it could at least keep me cool. So, for the rest of the day I sat in my truck with the engine running and the air conditioning on as needed, keeping track of how quickly the fuel was spent. When the sun was low enough again, I moved up to the tent and stayed the night up there. I spent the next two days the same way, days in the truck and nights in the tent with mornings and evenings being my moving around time.
I had a crate full of canned food, but most of it was worthless. With my water dwindling, there was no way I was going to eat chili or corned-beef hash. I did have a few cans of fruit cocktail and pears though. I would drain the juice from these into my water bottles and then eat the fruit. That and half a bottle of gatoraid that I found behind the seat, stretched my water supply enough to get me to the 4th day. On the 4th morning, I was pretty sure my gasoline was going to run out during the afternoon and my water would probably be gone the next morning. Time for plan B. I was going to spend the day in the truck again and then take my pack and follow the wash that my truck was stuck in downstream towards the east and hopefully to the Verde River. I had written 3 notes describing my plan. I left one tied to the rope at the fork in the road, I left another tied to my tent, and the 3rd I was going to leave on my truck when I left.
My bag was packed and I was heading down to the truck when I heard the helicopter. A few minutes later I saw it, then they saw me. They landed about a mile away and I met them half way. It only took about half an hour to fly what took me half a day to drive. Got home, took a nap, and went to work. I learned a lot of lessons the hard way on that trip, but I’m much better prepared now because of it.
Thank you so much, these stories are really interesting to me. I won't be writing them down anywhere...just savoring the scariness of the situations. I am sort of stuck not hiking for awhile and so enjoy the pictures and stories of where everyone goes.
Thanks.
Thanks! I am doing better 'n better. I was just remembering when my husband and I would walk on the south side of Mummy Mountain about 4:30am (in summer) and how we enjoyed hearing the Great Horned Owl, etc, but then there were two sitings of a Mountain Lion in the village of Paradise Valley.... They told us to stand tall, swell up our lungs, and look 'em straight in the eye.
It was awhile before I walked in the wee hours of the morning again.
Route Editor
Route Scout
