On May 20, 2016, my wife and I visited Yosemite National Park. Before setting out on the trail, I spoke with a park ranger. I told him I was looking for an image of the water reflecting the trees.
The ranger, a third-generation Yosemite employee, said Lukens Lake was one of the most beautiful places in the park.
“I think you get the best views of the park,” he said.
Highway 120 had opened the day before and it was only a one-mile hike from the trailhead adjacent to the highway to the lake.
We had been to Yosemite before. At the time I lived in Long Beach, in a high-rise building on Ocean Boulevard. He had a plane and took us to the Mariposa-Yosemite airport. We rented a four-wheel drive van and stayed in Mariposa. The next day, we drove and walked to the lake.
Between a Rock is a Los Angeles Times series sharing stories of survival in the California wilderness.
We probably got there around 9am. It seemed like a simple walk. We had appropriate clothing and backpacks. I checked the weather. That day there was nothing in the forecast. It was nice. It was great. In Yosemite Valley, it was probably in the upper 40s.
As the morning progressed, clouds covered the sky. It turned gray and dark. The light was perfect for photographs. And it started to snow. It was one of those storms that mountains generate. The snow fell thick and in large flakes. We got five inches in about 40 minutes. I spent about two hours taking pictures around the lake.
“It seemed like just a little walk. We had appropriate clothing and backpacks. I checked the weather. That day there was nothing in the forecast. “
I got lost in photography. It was so beautiful that you didn't want to leave. But we got hungry. We only had a snack bar and we had left food for a couple of days in the car.
But our trail had disappeared. Around noon was our first attempt to leave on foot. The walk was about 10 minutes. We walked for an hour and found no way out.
Lukens Lake is a short walk from Highway 120 or Tioga Road.
(Tom Setterlund)
When we left the lake, we continued straight. We took three different roads, but we were still probably half a mile off the road. We didn't remember the dog leg coming out. You're heading down the trail in one place and suddenly it makes a 30-degree turn to your left. We didn't remember the big twist.
I knew there was going to be snow on the ground and I thought if people went there there would be a trail on the ground, but I didn't think about that the next day. We knew the path went south of where we were, but there was no sun. You couldn't tell where south was.
The last time we tried, I was exhausted upon returning and was falling. We decided it wasn't safe to keep trying. It was getting dark.
We cleared an area under a tree where there wasn't as much snow and rested.
It was somewhere between 20 and 20 degrees. We had a couple of sheets of Mylar, which I now know how to use. We wrapped ourselves in them, but they didn't work because we were covered in snow. We were wet. Instead of reflecting warmth, they only reflected cold. To use them correctly it is necessary to take off your clothes and put them close to your body. We would shiver until our bodies warmed a little and then we would fall asleep, and then we would wake up because we were cold, and then we would shiver again and go back to sleep.
I carried several tools to start a fire, but I thought we were above 10,000 feet, where fires are not allowed. I have read about people in survival situations who were prosecuted for setting fire.
I thought someone would see our car at the trailhead, but we hadn't gotten a permit for the hike because it was only a day hike. To spend the night there you need a permit.
What happened in that storm, unbeknownst to us, is that Highway 120 had been closed again due to ice; Nobody was going to see our car. I've since realized that no one would care anyway unless you told someone outside the park, and they started calling and saying, “Hey, they haven't re-registered” or gotten a permit.
The next morning was sunny and we went for a walk. Once we saw the road, we knew we were safe. The car was full of food and we sat inside and ate for an hour. I don't remember what we ate, but it was delicious.
Lukens Lake is a short walk from Highway 120 or Tioga Road.
(Tom Setterlund)
On the road, 50 meters away, there was a car upside down on its hood. All roads were completely icy, snowy and closed. The first person we saw was the snowplow driver and he told us there were a couple of accidents coming up. People would fly there and think, “Wow, 120 is open! I can reach the coast! Obviously they were not warned that there was ice on the road.
The rental van had four-wheel drive, but I crawled. I was going 5 mph down that road, hoping I wouldn't slip. Later I met a park ranger and then he realized he was the only one who had the key to open the gates. He said: “I'm glad they made it out. “It would be a while before anyone found you.”
I had made many security assumptions that were not valid. It made me realize that if I'm going to walk in the countryside, I have to do it in a safer way.
I knew we had parked north of the lake. I had looked at the trail map, but I didn't have a compass. I didn't have any of the things I'm wearing today. I now use a location tracking app that works offline using satellites and I have a Garmin GPS emergency device.
I had to change the way I was outdoors. I started reading a lot more, I started uploading a lot more. No one will come to save you. Maybe they'll look for a body in a week.
When the time comes, you will have to leave.
Tom Setterlund is a retired safety engineer who spends his time riding motorcycles in rural areas, primarily on fire roads in the San Bernardino National Forest. He also enjoys traveling with his mobile caravan wherever the road takes him. His account is edited for length and clarity.
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