Survival

One of my scariest adventures began benignly enough. I awoke later than usual on a Saturday and was reluctant to get out of bed due to unusually cold weather. A terrible foreshadowing of what would come later. . .

I planned on hiking and climbing 14 miles to reach the peak of a nearby mountain. That evening I would take photos of the rocky peak and camp farther down where the air was warmer. All went according to plan, until night fell.

After pitching camp, I returned to the peak to try some star trail photos. After setting up my camera and taking a few initial photos a light snow began to fall. As conditions worsened I was forced to retreat down the mountain, back to camp, hoping that the storm would not be so bad at lower altitudes.

I could not have been more wrong. In a matter of minutes the sky became an angry gray, swirling thickly in the darkness. Only now as sleet and snow blew horizontally, stinging my face did I grew afraid, realizing I had made a terrible mistake.

I knew I could not camp where I had initially planned. The area was far too open and a vicious wind was whipping my bedding apart. Gathering my supplies I hastened to find another place to spend the night. Perhaps in my only stroke of fortune that weekend occurred when I discovered a fallen tree that had a snow drift piled against one side and a clear space below. Throwing my tarps over the opening I crawled into the opening where I would spend the worst night of my life.

The temptation to make my way down the mountain and escape the storm was immense, but with only a small pocket flashlight and snow obscuring the trail I knew that becoming lost was more than likely. I could not count on finding such an excellent shelter a second time. And so for 13 hours I prayed for daylight.

I did not sleep a minute that night. During the storm the temperature plunged low enough to freeze my water bottles. I spent my time fighting the winds in an effort to keep my tarp in place. Being cold was one thing but I understood that if I became wet my odds of survival would be next to nothing. At some point during the night I even sacrificed the plastic bags protecting my camera from moisture, it was more important to keep my feet dry for tomorrow’s 14 mile descent.

At 6:15am when the first ray of sun made it over the horizon, I almost wept in relief. Although cold and miserable, I had lasted through the night, and while winds still blew and snow fell I knew that the light would guide me from this nightmare.