[pct-l] End of PCT Hike

[Scott Diamond]

A friend forwarded this to me by e-mail

  - Rover


My friend hiking the Pacific Crest Trail ended his hike in dramatic fashion.

I pulled his near-death story from Facebook ….



For those of you that have been following along, unfortunately my Pacific
Crest Trail journey has come to an abrupt and very dangerous end, where I
can say I am truly lucky and grateful to be alive. Here’s what happened.

At about 1,000 miles into my hike I was hiking alone in the Sierra Nevada
Mountains when I came across a particularly treacherous river crossing. The
flow was strong and the water was past my waist. As I was fording the river
my footing gave way under a lose rock and I was swept into the current. I
began rushing towards a waterfall and couldn’t swim out with my 60 lb pack
on so I ditched the pack and was able to swim out of the river before I hit
the waterfall and rocks. Unfortunately my pack and all of my belongings are
lost forever in the river and probably washed up somewhere in Southern
California now, but I didn’t drown so it was worth it. The realization of
being stranded in the middle of nowhere, alone, in snow covered mountains
with nothing but the clothes I was wearing on my back quickly settled in.

Given no one knew I was in trouble, and there was so much snow this year
there was no trail to follow, the only way I would survive was by
backtracking my own footprints in the snow for 15 miles to try and get to a
remote shelter I stayed at the night before, where I could wait and hope
for the slim chance someone would come by in the next few days. I made it
back 7 of the 15 miles before nightfall, which brought sub-freezing temps,
while I had no shelter and wet, cold clothes. It was cold enough where if I
fell asleep I probably wouldn’t wake back up, so I had to do jumping jacks
and run in circles all night to keep from freezing to death.

Once the sun came up I started tracking my day old prints again.
Unfortunately if I were to lose my tracks, or if a snow storm were to roll
in, I would lose all chances being able to navigate back and of survival.
Twice I did lose those tracks however, and leaving it up to fate I decided
to follow some deer and coyote tracks I came across, which miraculously
lead me straight to my tracks both times. Luckily the weather was clear,
and even though I had lost my glasses in the river, I was able to track
myself back 14 of the 15 miles I had done the day before. At this point the
sun had melted away the rest of my prints. I knew I was within a mile or
two of the shelter I hoped to find, but I had no idea which direction to
go, and no tools to help navigate (My map, compass, phone, etc. were all
lost to the river). After climbing up 3 different mountains that I thought
may be the right way, I came back down to the last track I could find and
began losing hope, realizing that I was probably going to die out there. I
wouldn’t be able to last another night in the freezing weather without food
or sleep, and no one knew I was in trouble - there would be no rescue or
rangers looking for me - I was officially lost in the mountains without any
leads.

Then I got lucky. As I came to terms with my probable death by freezing or
eventual starvation, I heard the humming of machinery. Then the classic
backup beeping noise you hear from big vehicles! There was people somewhere
here in the middle of nowhere! My heart jumped and adrenaline shot through
my veins. That day, at that hour happened to be the time that the state
decided to send some giant bulldozers to start plowing the back country
road that runs through the mountains and near where I was, although it was
covered by 10 ft of snow and still was closed. I saw the trucks emerging
out of a valley miles away across a snow plain and past the Tuolumne River.
I needed to get over to them and make sure they saw me before they left. I
sprinted across the plain and dove into the giant river and began swimming
across. Somehow I swam through the current and got to the other side. The
water was freezing, I definitely had hypothermia. I ran up to the
bulldozer, finally realizing I wasn’t going to die at 25 in the middle of
nowhere in the mountains! I got a ride in the giant bulldozer for miles out
of the mountains and got to a ranger station. I made friends with the
Yosemite Rangers and ended up staying with them that night where we
celebrated the weekend and my unlikely survival.

Thank you Emily Noyd <https://www.facebook.com/emilynoyd?fref=mentions> for
the hospitality and kindness, what a great way to end a day that started
quite differently! Although I wasn’t in life threatening danger anymore, I
was still in Yosemite National Park with no ID, money, or belongings.
Within an hour after calling them,Joseph
<https://www.facebook.com/joe.mccoy.735?fref=mentions> and Chelsea McCoy
hopped in their car and drove 11 hours from Portland down to where I was to
come get me, then turned around and drove back. They are truly the best
friends any one could have and went above and beyond the duties of
friendship. I’m safe and sound now, and so happy to be alive. Everything
tastes a little sweeter after having an experience like that, and I can’t
begin to explain how grateful I am to still be here. I made some good
decisions out there and gave myself the best chance of survival by refusing
to stop fighting for my life, but honestly, none of that would have
mattered if I didn’t get as lucky as I did or didn’t receive the miracle
which was those Bulldozers that just happened to be plowing a road in the
middle of a mountain range that day at that time. Happy to be here, happy
to be alive and I’m looking forward to seeing you all!