Lost in the Wilderness
For many people, time spent in the wilderness is bliss. It’s fulfilling. It’s all encompassing. But it also entails responsibility, both for ourselves and others. Certainly, the dictum “Leave No Trace” is one path we should follow. Another obligation is not getting lost, for our own safety as well as for loved ones and those who may be called upon to rescue us. Wilderness areas which are scantily marked, physically demanding, difficult, and unfamiliar can lead to trouble. I experienced all those on a solo hike through wilderness which turned out to be life threatening as well as a life lesson.
It all started well. I snowshoed and skied from Upper Works in the High Peaks Wilderness to the Adirondack Loj via Lake Colden and Avalanche Lake. The weather was sunny; the trail was well broken, easy to follow, and I met a few others on the way. I was in reasonable physical shape so the 12 miles and 1,500’ elevation gain trek was not a big challenge. I spent a restful night at the Loj and hit the trail again at 7 the next morning.
This time, however, I took the less traveled route back through the fabled Indian Pass. Again, the trail was a fairly easy ski until, all of a sudden, it wasn’t. After a couple miles, I started climbing through deep, unbroken snow. I had to switch to snowshoes and it became increasingly difficult. With naive optimism, I hoped the trail was broken coming up the pass from the other direction and things would get easier. Dumb.
A snowshoer in an Adirondack Wilderness Area
I was still feeling strong and decided to carry on. It being December, however, it got late early as Yogi Berra used to say, In the moonless dark and drifting snow, trail markers became increasingly difficult to find. Fortunately, I had enough sense to backtrack to the previous marker whenever I lost my way. I kept switching back and forth from skis to snowshoes which was time-consuming. And, worst of all, it was getting very cold—eventually down to -17F. I had a sleeping bag but it was inadequate.
It wasn’t long before I started becoming hypothermic, working hard in such cold weather. My gear and clothing weren’t up to the challenge. There was no way I would survive the night. No one knew my itinerary. And, I was becoming exhausted. I could no longer switch from snowshoes to skis and ditched the latter behind a lean to — maybe. I was unable to find them the next spring.
If my headlamp had died, I would have, too. End of story. Miraculously, it held out for the 6 hours hiking in the dark until I made it back to my car around 11 pm. I was shaking violently and it took me 15 minutes to sign out at the trail register which merely entailed checking off my name, having signed in the previous day. I sat in my car with the heat blasting for an hour before driving, somewhat erratically, to Newcomb. I suffered some frostbitten fingers and toes but recovered. I owe my life to my trusty headlamp. In any list of essential equipment on a hike, a headlamp and extra batteries should be at the top. Better yet, TWO headlamps with fresh batteries: I never would have been able to change batteries in the pitch black, shaking from hypothermia.
These days, many people rely on their phones, GPS and SOS devices. Unfortunately, these are not a panacea for safety in wilderness hiking. Yes, they can alert the rangers to your dilemma but the number of rescues has increased dramatically and is not sustainable.
The High Peaks Wilderness in winter
As for summer, my advice remains the same with one important difference. I am always struck at the number of rescues for those who are severely dehydrated. Yes, giardia in the water should be avoided but not if the choice is between collapsing, unable to continue, and calling for help vs. drinking from the plentiful streams and lakes in the Adirondack wilderness. If you’re worried about contracting giardia, simply call your doctor when you return and take an antibiotic. It’s no big deal.
