(Mis)adventures

The picture maybe a bit dramatic and inaccurate of my recent backpacking trip but the story is factual.

This past Sunday my friend Chris Knoll and I drove out to the San Rafael wilderness in the Los Padres National Forest which is about a four and a half hour drive from San Diego via the 5 freeway. The area lies about five miles (as the crow flies) from Santa Barbara. The wilderness area is one of the last known strong holds for the California condor.

The planned trip(see page 31 in January edition of Backpacker magazine)was to hike four miles through a series of valleys and switchbacks which would then lead us to the top of a ridge line. This ridge line ran from McPherson peak (the highest in the range) and would follow the trail down the valley floor and then back up on the West end. Four miles from where we summited the ridge line we were supposed to camp and then continue the rideline loop for the rest of the trip which would end up being approximately thirty miles in three days.

We began Sunday at the trail head at about 11am after we had lunched and made sure we had all of the necessary equipment in order. About a mile into the hike up to the ridge line we began encountering small patches of snow, which is extremely rare at 3,000 feet, and as the trip up continued the patches got larger and deeper. When we finally reached the ridge line we estimate that it was about 2 pm or so, we forgot a watch so we don't know exactly. Along the ridge line we reached even longer and deeper patches of snow, think 6-8 inches of nice powder by 2 1/2-3 football fields long, but they were only mainly in the shadows.

Throughout the trek the weather was perfect, as evident by the shorts and short-sleeve shirt I wore, we estimate about 65 degrees. Because of the weather we never really worried about the snow which also kept us from having to fill up our water supply.

We finally reached the planned campsite around thirty minutes before sunset which gave us just enough time to set up camp and start a fire. The campsite was called painted rock for the nearby cave which was painted by the local Indians. The site sat up on top of the ridge directly underneath the only oak tree in the area. We quickly set up camp and attempted a fire but with the recent storm any and all shrubs were wet, so we went to bed.

Here where it gets interesting:
About two hours into our sleep (im guessing about 9:30 or 10) the wind started to pick-up, light at first and then a bit stronger. Eventually it got so strong the it took a few of our stakes out and collapsed the tent. Chris drew the short end of the straw so he got out and re-staked the tent and placed rocks on all of them. He also took the guy out lines and securely tied them to rocks.

The guy lines lasted for about two more hours, by which time the wind (we think) reached anywhere from 30 to 40 mph and it lightly began to drizzle. It took me about 15 minutes to get up the courage to jump out and fix the tent. When i jumped back into the tent after to a short 2 minute fix-it I was soaked by the winds flying in all directions. By the time we were resettled in the tent water had begun to leak through the rain fly and subsequently onto my sleeping bag. My sleeping bag stayed dry for about two hours when it began to soak my feet and my midsection. By the time the guy lines had been ripped from the stake and the rock which they were tied too and the wind was consistently ripping the zipper of the rain fly open and spraying all of our belongings with water.

I estimate that at about 3 am the worst possible thing could have happened, our tent collapsed again. This time any repairs we attempted would have most likely been fruitless seeing as the wind was only getting stronger and the rain was coming down harder so Chris and I made a drastic decision. We decided to make a run for the car. We each took turns holding the collapsed tent open while we each readied our gear in our packs, put on our boots and all of our water proof gear. The plan was to drop any unnecessary gear to lighten our packs and then to put nearly all of the left over gear into one pack so that the other pack would be free for us to quickly stuff the tent into and leave the Ridge line.

Everything went according to plan, my pack was loaded with all the extra gear and Chris was going to jump out and load the tent but when we got out of the tent we had completely underestimated the severity of the storm and we were unable to load the tent so we left it. In all we left the tent, cookware (pots, pans, handle, sponges and soap for cleaning), all the food except cliff bars, sandals and a thermarest. We nearly left the stove and the fuel but we thought that if worst came to worst we may need it to stay warm.

Once we stepped off the ridge and down into a deep snow patch merely 50 feet below our camp we were completely sheltered from the wind however, the rain kept coming down very hard and we were wet within 5 minutes. Before we discuss the trip back you need to understand the gear we had with us. Our packs had been soaked through because our pack covers had been ripped off in the rain. I had a fairly new gore tex jacket but Chris only had a light weight jacket as well as a soft shell for a mid-layer. On our feet I had gore tex boots but Chris only had a pair of trail runners. On our lower body all we had we thermal underwear and light weight hiking pants. Also, Chris hadn't thought to bring gloves. So as prepared as we thought we were, we were not even close.

Once down on the ridge we immediately began the trek towards the ridge line. Our thought was that if we could make it 4 miles to the ridge line then even if it was raining we would be out of the wind. However, the 4 miles were almost entirely exposed to the weather, with only small shrubs and no trees or significant shelter we had to push through. Early on in the trek another issue came to our attention Chris's headlamp lacked sufficient power so we hiked the ridge line solely with my head lamp which had a maximum of 30 feet visibility due to the freezing rain.

I am not sure about Chris but within 30 minutes of leaving my legs were soaked through as well as both of my boots. I felt like I was walking in a swamp but my feet were still warm even though we were trekking through slushy snow. Occasionally an extremely strong gust of wind would come and would blow us around, using our packs like sails.


We finally reached the ridge line and began our decent of the peak through the single track switch backs. The way down was extremely sketchy but we hiked as fast as we possibly could. About 2 miles down Chris slipped at landed on a Yucca plant (see picture)where he stabbed his hand which instantly began bleeding everywhere. He quickly wrapped a bandanna around it and we continued down.

By the time we reached the base of the switchbacks the rain had yielded to a drizzle and the sun was beginning to shine on the valley. A trip that had taken us about 6 hours on the way up only took us about 3 hours back.

When we got back to the car we found the key and turned on the car to warm us up and I quickly took off all of my wet clothes and wrapped myself in a towel in the trunk and left the trail head. About half an hour into the drive I was so tired that I had to pull over and take a nap.

Nothing mattered at that point. We had survived a dangerous situation. Now that the (mis)adventure is over I feel that I now understand how weather in the back country can go from perfect to the worst and we need to be prepared for any situation. I now also feel like I can conquer anything. Anyone up for a trip to Everest?

-Paul