Soaked and shivering, I buried my head in his shoulder. Huddling together for body heat was our only chance of surviving. There is nothing romantic about this like what’s often depicted in movies or on TV. Our time was spent uselessly shouting for help in the dark as loud as our worn out frozen bodies would allow. But no response or help ever came….
I have tried to recount this story to friends and family many times since the incident, never quite knowing what to say. It was a terrible, terrifying experience, and words can never do it justice. I inevitably wind up laughing whenever describing what happened because the situation was completely avoidable, and I cannot believe how we behaved when we felt like we were going to die. Survival situations bring out a sad, desperate side of yourself you never knew was there. They make you realize how fragile and insignificant you are. I can’t quite bring myself to say I am thankful for this experience, but I did discover a self-preserving will that has benefited me in many other circumstances throughout my life.
It all began in March 2008. I was dating my boyfriend (now husband) Alex, and it was our first hike together. It was by all means, an easy hike under normal circumstances, one that many people in the Pacific Northwest (PNW) do regularly. However, that region had experienced unusually high precipitation in the mountains so the trail was completely covered in many feet of snow just a few miles in (the hike was around 15 miles round trip). I should preface this by saying that we were not “hikers” at the time. Sure, I had done countless easy, short summer hikes all over the PNW with my sisters and friends but I definitely wasn’t a “hiker”. I did not have water wicking clothing, a compass, map, or even hiking shoes. I wore yoga pants and mesh running shoes with a cotton t-shirt and sweatshirt. Alex wore jeans and mesh tennis shoes. As avid hikers now we can’t believe we wore such clothing hiking. I had done part of the hike the previous summer with an ex-boyfriend who didn’t want to go to the top (and I hate not making it to the top!!!). So I told Alex it was a test of our relationship if we could make it to the top. Our relationship was still new and first time young love makes you do crazy things (I was 20 and Alex was 21).
We began our hike way too late in the day around 2:00 PM. We started running into snow a few miles in and continued despite being completely unprepared. We brought no food or flashlights either.
The snow became so deep that we began sinking waist-deep with each step. Our feet were so cold they grew numb. Many hours later when we were near the top it started to rain. As mentioned earlier, we were not prepared for this, but we kept going despite being soaked. To his benefit, Alex did mention a couple of times that we should maybe turn back but I quickly refused…I was going to make it to the top no matter what.
Once we got to what we thought was the top, we noticed that it was quickly growing dark. We decided that we needed to run most of the way down to beat the fading light. Shortly into our run, we noticed that Alex had lost a shoe. We briefly retraced our steps, but saw no sign ofi it. Apparently, his feet were so numb that he had been walking with just a sock on one foot for quite some time and didn’t even realize that his shoe was missing. Once we continued we started noticing the terrain was unfamiliar. It had been a bit of a guessing game for a while because the rain would cause the snow from the treetops to fall onto the snow on the ground looking indistinguishable from footprints. This made it difficult to see our path back, but we kept going because it was increasingly becoming dark and we had no flashlight. As we continued, we realized that we must have lost the trail and after some deliberation, decided the best thing to do was to just to head downhill, away from the deep snow. So we clambered our way down the hillside for as long as we could using natural light. Eventually we started using our cell phones for light since they were useless as rescue devices as we had no cellphone reception.
The rain continued to pour and we were extremely cold. After many hours we finally resorted to yelling for help as loud as we could. We had seen no one since the snow line but thought it was worth a shot. We began getting into less snow but we were on a heavily slanted hillside. It was around 11:30PM when we finally decided we were not going to get off the mountain that night. It was so cold that we were numb everywhere, but we decided we needed to try to build a shelter of some sort and stay put rather than continue to get further lost in the dark. With our numb, shaky limbs, building a shelter proved extremely challenging. We threw together a haphazard shelter based on some recollection Alex had from his scouting days. However, the hill was so heavily slanted, and it persistently rained the whole night that the measly shelter did not help much. Soaked and shivering, I buried my head in his shoulder. Huddling together for body heat was our only chance of surviving. There is nothing romantic about this, like what’s often depicted in movies or on TV. Our time was spent uselessly shouting for help in the dark as loud as our worn out, frozen bodies would allow. But no response or help ever came.
With no sleep and stiff bodies, we left our shelter at first light. We could barely stand on our frozen feet. I had taken off my shoes the night before and learned quickly that my feet were too swollen and hands too stiff and numb to be able to put my shoes back on. Now Alex and I were both without shoes on our feet. Looking around at our surroundings in the light we quickly learned we were indeed on a heavily slanted hill and no trail was in-sight. We frantically yelled and screamed for help at the tops of our lungs. We began to walk up the hill thinking the trail might be up there but our bodies would not cooperate; our extremities were so cold it was impossible. We clung to thorny bushes, and stepped on thorns and jutting roots with bare feet but felt no pain. After our pathetic attempts to climb up the hill we figured walking down the hill was the best option. So we changed course to head straight down the hill hoping to come upon any sign of human life. Throughout this exploration Alex and I would take turns panicking for our lives. The panic seemed to come in bouts where one of us would scream and yell for help, while the other one tried to be strong.
After a few hours we heard hope for the first time. We initially didn’t know if we could believe our ears but as we speedily progressed toward the sound it became clear; we were hearing the sound of rushing water. Gaining strength from this first sign of hope, Alex rushed ahead to get to the water. I willed my stiff body to move down at a quicker pace to keep up. After some time had passed and the water sounded very close I saw Alex up ahead walking from one side to another searching for something through the trees. As I got closer I saw that through the trees and down the hill emerged the rushing water. It was moving incredibly fast due to the snowmelt. After some searching the water bank, Alex and I eventually saw the first sign of human life through the trees, a bridge. However, the bridge was not on our side of the river, rather, it was connected on the other side of the river to a piece of land in the middle of the river. Meaning that in order to get to it, Alex and I would need to get to that piece of land, which would require crossing this roaring river. We saw a fallen tree that connected our side of the river and the piece of land in the middle. It was slanted downward and seemed far too dangerous to cross. From the fallen tree, it was at least a seven-foot drop into the river. Crossing the fallen tree with its downward slant and wet, mossy surface seemed treacherous. A fall in the deep, raging rapids would mean inevitable death. Since this did not seem like a possibility we explored the bank to see if this land mass connected at some other point to our side of the river. As we searched, we noticed that the river only got wider and further away from this island. Not wanting to get further lost we returned to where we saw the bridge. Hopelessly, we yelled for help some more, but by then, our voices were hoarse and we knew deep down we were going to have to be the ones to save ourselves.
Seeing no sign of anyone we realized that our only option was to try to cross one of these fallen trees. Alex, eager to get off the mountain went first to test it out. He scooted on his butt, and using all fours, inched slowly down the fallen tree and over the river. After what seemed like a very long time, he finally reached the other side. The loud water made it near impossible to hear him, but he waved me over. Nervously, I began crossing as he did, inch by inch. I was still so stiff from the cold that I felt as though I had little control of my limbs, and I was wearing a backpack. Slowly, I scooted down the log, but after only a couple feet from the ledge I looked over the side and saw the distance to the river below, and the river’s violent current. I felt and felt a sudden and overwhelming panic rise in me. I began to shake uncontrollably, my heart rate soared, and my vision became blurred as I began to tear up. I turned back around. There was no way I would make it. I shook my head at Alex to let him know that it was not going to happen, as yelling would have been impossible over the tumultuous river. He kept trying to wave me over but I kept shaking my head no. He tried signally something else and then disappeared. Panic rose in me again. What if he left to go get help? What if he couldn’t find the place again? How long would I be out here? After a few minutes however he returned and signaled that he was looking at another area. After another few minutes he returned and shook his head and pointed that I must cross the log. Realizing this was the only option and relieved that he did not leave, I tried the log again this time refusing to look at the rushing water below and picturing my doom. I painstakingly, and slowly worked my way across the log. Whenever my heart began palpitating with sudden panic, I tried to breathe in order to control it. When I finally made it across and walked to the bridge I felt so relieved. We had finally made it. We were actually giddy and began laughing like we had gone mad. We had no idea which trail we had stumbled upon (it was not the same one we took up) but we were on a trail! Still having not gained full control of our numb limbs we limped down as fast as we could; Alex in torn up socks and me having finally managed to force my feet into my tennis shoes). After about an hour or so we encountered a person, who just so happened to be a park ranger, but it was her day off. She saw our terrible state and gave us cliff bars and water and insisted on taking us down the mountain. We must have looked and smelled terrible. After a few hours we were back down the mountain with the ranger, who gave us some helpful advice about slowly warming up our frozen limbs and slowly eating food. The warming up the limbs part turned out to be very painful. Alex’s right foot swelled up three times its size and he was diagnosed with frost nip (not quite as bad as frost bite). We both couldn’t feel the tips of our feet for the next 2 years.
To my surprise, Alex agreed to go hiking with me a few months later, but this time he was going to be PREPARED. He purchased and packed an obscene amount of survival gear, despite embarking on only a short day hike. He packed a tarp, emergency blankets, emergency whistles, flashlights, first aide kit, ponchos, and a tent (just in case).
Of course now being avid hikers and mountaineers we have found a balance. I still tend to be riskier than Alex likes but we make sure to have a map and proper clothing (especially hiking boots!), and avoid post-hole prone spring snow without proper equipment. I still can’t quite say I am thankful for this experience, but over the years I have found myself often calling on that self-preserving determination I discovered in myself during that experience.
-Liz