As part of my cautionary story(ies), I will point out my Common Sense Rules of Survival (CSRS). They are helpfully marked.
When I first moved to Colorado from the Washington, D.C. area, one of the differences I noticed was that weeks would go by without a homicide in Denver. Instead, a lot of people died from taking the wilderness for granted - getting lost in the mountains, falling over a cliff, getting caught in an avalanche, etc. I couldn't understand how people could be so reckless. Now I do.
The natural feature that I love the most about California is the Redwood forests. I have always preferred the mountains to the sea. Mountains with big trees take me to another world and time. I need to go there every now and then to restore my soul and spirit. Usually, I combine a visit to the forest with a photography expedition.
On this occasion, I had heard that spring wildflowers had started to bloom in the Big Basin Redwoods State Park (south of San Francisco). It is also a great place for fungi and, although this was late in the season, I hoped to find a few mushrooms. I invited along a fellow photographer from one of the camera clubs where I'm a member.
We arrived in the park about 9 a.m. and asked a ranger what were the best trails for wildflowers. She had heard there were some along Skyline to the Sea Trail (STTS), Sunset Creek, and Timms Creek Trail. These trails made a loop of about 7 miles. We were also warned that many trees were down due to the heavy rains and flash flooding that occurred in January. When trees fall across a path, they are not removed. Generally, a section is cut out to pass through. If it is small enough, you may have to just step or climb over it. If it is very large, you may just have to crawl under it. Some very mature redwoods had fallen and were significant obstacles.
And so, we headed off. Here comes the first lesson.
CSRS: Pick a main objective and stick to it.
I have this tendency to want to be super-efficient. Kill 27 birds with one stone. I have a couple of old cameras as spares. I really only needed one camera for this trip. But I brought the others because they contained rolls of film that I wanted to finish. Those cameras, plus assorted accessories, were in a pretty heavy bag. Plus I have a versatile but heavy tripod. Here comes another lesson.
CSRS: You can't make rational decisions when you are tired and stressed.
If I was thinking logically, the process would have gone something like this: if I want to take all this equipment, I can't go very far because it will be heavy and I am really out-of-shape. If I want to do the entire trail then I have to lighten my load. It had been a tiring week, which was one of the reasons I was in the woods in the first place. When I am in this state, I continue to collect information about my surroundings, but I don't introduce these little facts to one another. I think you get the picture.
We made the first small error in judgement rather soon. We came to a fork in the trail. To the left was STTS Trail and to the right was a short trail that led to Sunset Trail. These trails were roughly parallel. Timms Creek trail connected the two about 3-4 miles up, depending which way you went. Berry Creek Trail also connected the two about 4-5 miles up. There were 3 waterfalls along that trail. We had some vague idea of trying to get to the falls. Keeping to the left would have been a little shorter and faster, but we chose the loop to see as much as we could.
CSRS: Always listen to that little voice in the back of your mind.
Unfortunately, my voice is like me; it tends to suggest politely when it needs to stomp and yell. It usually takes a while to get to the stomping and yelling phase. Also, when I'm tired, it's tired. I heard this gentle "Left might be better" but I ignored it.
It was a gorgeous day. The forest smelled wonderful. We joked about how badly out of shape we were as we climbed up slopes and cheered when we came to a down slope or level ground. We listened to the delightful sound of the babbling brooks and marvelled at the debris left behind by the flooding. We really didn't find much to photograph until we got to Timms Creek Trail, but that was okay.
We did find a nice little waterfall, and then some fungi and wildflowers. But, the day was getting on so we headed on toward STTS. The sign at the trail junction read 2.8 miles to Park Headquarters or 1 mile to Berry Creek Falls. Falls are so much more photogenic than headquarters. It was now 4:15 and, based on our normal (pavement) walking speed of 3 miles per hour, it seemed not unreasonable to attempt. We forgot the excessive equipment factor, but the little voice didn't. It knew something was wrong, but it hadn't yet developed a cohesive and persuasive argument.
It took us 50 minutes to reach the falls. (By this time, the voice was really annoyed.) They were quite nice. And we were beginning to listen to the voice. So we headed back. We managed to get about a mile and a half before it got dark. Did I mention that we did not have a flashlight? My companion thought she had matches. She didn't. When is the full moon? In two weeks.
We finally came up with the idea of using the pre-flash on the camera. We would fire off a few flashes to detect the direction of the trail and any obstacles in the way. Then using our tripods as canes, we felt our way along. We did this about every 15-20 feet. We each held one end of a camera strap to keep close.
Actually, we later marvelled at the psychology of our behavior. We went through denial ("we can get back before it gets too dark", "maybe twilight will last until 8 or so"). We went through anger ("I can't believe I was so stupid as to try to walk 10 miles with a heavy awkward bag - what a moron"). We went through fear ("I'm going to be eaten by wolverines", "my death will be an embarrassing story on page 5 of the newspaper"). We went through hopelessness ("just leave me here with the equipment and save yourself"). We finally reached acceptance and regained our sense of humor.
We were both pretty tired. We would stop whenever we felt our hearts pounding or our legs felt close to buckling. We would just sit on the trail and try to recover our breaths. These rests generally lasted until we heard rustling in the bushes. I couldn't remember what I had read about wild animals in Big Basin. I was pretty sure there were no bears, but I thought there were several cases of wildcats eating local pets. I kept thinking of the scene in "The Gods Must Be Crazy II" where the little kid held a piece of wood high in the air to appear bigger than the menacing hyena. I doubted there were hyenas, but looking very big seemed a good idea. We also talked loudly and thrashed about often. I was very tempted to find a place to hide my camera equipment and risk it being appropriated by woodland creatures until I could return in daylight.
We reached a junction with a fire road. This seemed a better option than a trail although from my memory of the map it was longer. However, it was overgrown and hard to detect. At one point we heard voices and thought help was near but then they faded. We went back and found the continuation of STTS. As we headed down the trail, we heard screams. My first thought was, "oh this is good, apparently there is an axe murderer in a campground." We soon realized that someone was also groping in the dark ahead of us and they were yelling for help. Adrenaline rush.
We told them to stay put, we were headed their way, but it would take a while. When we reached them we found a family of three adults and one child. They had water, food, and matches, but were inadequately dressed. They had tried to find their way, but couldn't see the trail well enough and had made some wrong turns. My friend tied my belt to the back of her coat and they held on that and to each other.
In this fashion we gradually made our way along the path, over, under and between downed trees. (I fell once clambering over a tree and slid partway down a slope with my camera bag on top of me. My chiropractor was not amused.) Occasionally I caught a slight glimmer of a path ahead from ambient light in the sky. Other times, it was too dark to see your hand in front of your face. (Two hundred foot trees are pretty good at blocking light.) Eventually we saw a light through the trees; one of the toilet facilities near headquarters. When we got there we gave a small cheer and smiled with delight.
When we got back to the car we checked the time; it was 12:51 a.m. We had hiked two miles in total darkness for six hours. And we didn't smell too good, either. We a bid a fond farewell to our comrades in adventure and prepared to return home.
CSRS: There is something to be learned from every experience.
What we did was stupid. We would have been in serious trouble if the weather had turned, the flash battery died, one of us fell off the edge of the trail or had a heart attack, etc. But it is also reassuring to know that we were able to persevere. I also take comfort from helping the other family; they may have experienced a lot worse if we had not appeared. Once we knew someone else was in trouble, we forgot how tired we were. In a sense, they helped us as much as we helped them.
Copyright 1997 by Bertha Adamson
Page created by: badamson@ix.netcom.com
Changes last made on: March 10, 1997