[pct-l] Winter Travel Stories

[ned at mountaineducation.org]

The winter of 1973-'74 was developing a deep snow pack. We would find out that there was reported to be 28 feet in the backcountry between Alpine Meadows and Squaw Valley ski areas where we intended to conduct a "test-run" of our snow gear prior to starting a PCT thru hike in March.

My partner and I had been eagerly anticipating our expedition since 1970 when we first heard about the trail. We planned our High School courses so that we would graduate "early" in December of our senior year and begin the hike soon thereafter. Unfortunately, he found out just before Christmas that he could not do this and would have to continue on in school until June. Since my mother would not let me undertake the adventure alone at the ripe age of 17, I began a frantic search for a rare, compatible partner for a six-month mountain expedition! In this pre-internet era, the only good way to find such a person was by placing a flyer in the window of our local backpacking store. After what seemed forever, someone responded and wanted to commit to the endeavor! The only problems were that he had never backpacked before, was 10 years older than I, and had no idea what would be required of him on such a mountaineering trip. Nevertheless, the thru hike was back "on" and preparations could continue!

Part of our preparation was for snow. We knew that we would run into it in the Sierra, so I took a Sierra Club snow skills training trip to learn about snow-camping, snow caves, and how to safely move around over snow. That completed, we needed to test our "systems" by going out for several days and seeing how our gear, food, and clothing all worked in the snow. We had no idea how much of a test this was going to be!



We intended to snow shoe about six miles from the Alpine Meadows ski area parking lot into a base camp at Whiskey Creek in what is now called the Granite Chief Wilderness. We planned on doing this over an extended weekend. Our intent was to snow shoe in the 3 miles to a Sierra Club Wilderness Hut called "Bradley Hut," spend the night there, move on another three miles and establish our base camp, do a day hike behind Squaw Valley ski area, and then return on Sunday. I don't recall checking the weather forecast.

On the day hike, the day started clear and brisk and we set out with only the gear on our backs. We were only going to go three miles up to the Squaw Peak area and return. However, after about a mile or so, the wind came up and blew snow crystals into our faces to the extent that we couldn't see where we were going (clear sky and sun out). Since it was closer to seek momentary refuge in a lift shack at the top of the mountain, rather than try to retrace our quickly disappearing steps back to our base camp, we groped our way to the top of the slope. I managed to find a lift shack (literally made of wood planks with space between them) at the top of Squaw Peak in which we took shelter from the increasingly nasty weather.
 
Needless to say, a huge snow storm blew in and the wind raged all night. We could see (if we peered out the window carefully) the chair lift's chairs swinging violently all night and the howling of the wind through the walls kept us from any sleep. We rotated sitting on a small gas heater to stay warm and ate little packages of sugar and ketchup we found littered about the shack.

In the morning, during a lull in the storm, I picked up one of two telephones in the shack and got the main resort operator down in Squaw valley, told her we were stranded on the top of the mountain, and asked for rescue. There was silence on the phone. Disbelief followed. Then she hung up. She called back in a minute to see if we were really there! After further discourse she said that she would send a maintenance man in a snow cat to pluck us off the hill.

This happened, were taken the 4,000 feet down to the valley, and spent some time in a restaurant at the bottom of the ski area re-grouping and debating how we were going to get back to our gear on the other side of the ridge (behind K2, near 5 Lakes basin, down in Whiskey Creek). With the help of Lift Ops. and a few big, black garbage bags to cover us (we didn't even have rain gear!), they powered up the K2 chair and ushered us to the top of the ridge from which it was just a short post-holing feat to get back to  the Bradley Hut located on one of the 5 Lakes. 

We crashed there the night (no one else there) and slept between stacks of those old, military blue and white striped cotton mattresses up in the cabin's loft while another round of snow started flying outside. The next day, during another lull in the series of storms, we reached our North Face Mountain Tent (double-A frame design) to find it completely buried. (We located it after much wandering around in the area where we thought we had camped. We found it by tripping over one of its A-frames that was ever so slightly sticking out of the snow! Snowfall thus far--about 4 feet!). Naturally, as we packed up our belongings, we dug down to the door, crawled inside, and found the tent's roofline bowed down and touching the floor! We fled back to Bradley Hut to dry out. 

We hung everything up from the rafters and clothes lines inside, stoked the two wood stoves into a glowing red roar, and thoroughly dried out (finally). We were pretty hungry, too, and ate two dinners that we had carried in on this "test-run" hike of our snow camping skills.

The next morning we wallowed our way back the three miles to the Alpine Meadows Ski Area parking lot in about 5 to 6 feet of fresh powder. We found our car. It was completely buried and had been plowed around by the area's road-clearing crews over the past few days. I borrowed a shovel from the Maintenance crew and dug out the family car (keep in mind that I was all of 16 years old at the time). It had a flat tire and the spare was bald! 

Once finally under-way, we went down to Truckee to catch a bite to eat before going up over Donner Pass. We saw that nasty clouds were brewing again and so tarried only briefly there. It started snowing hard on our way out of town. We started the climb up highway 80 to Donner Pass in another blizzard. We wondered why Cal Trans had not closed the pass. (We found out later that they did--right behind us!).

So, we crawled up the road, now in the dark, ever so slowly, and made it to the top. We thought we were home free! Downhill should be easy! Nope. Somewhere near the Nyack Garage exit, a whole slew of cars and trucks ahead of me started sliding all over the place in the middle of the freeway, in the dark, and while it was snowing so hard that you could barely see the road through the flakes in the headlights. I avoided one jack-knifed truck and horse trailer stuck in the middle of the road by going to the right very slowly. I immediately discovered that I couldn't straighten out and realized that I was destined to rear-end another car that was plowed into the snow embankment further to the right. The impact, slow that it was compressed the entire front end of the Dodge Dart into a huge "V" shape, well into the engine itself!

Needless to say, we were towed to Nyack and spent that cold night in the tiled waiting room trying to contact "friends and family" back home to come rescue us (again) by morning. We eventually made it home.... Quite the "test-run," wouldn't you say?



"Just remember, Be Careful out there!"

Ned Tibbits, Director
Mountain Education
South Lake Tahoe, Ca. 96150
    P: 888-996-8333
    F: 530-541-1456
    C: 530-721-1551
    http://www.mountaineducation.org