A "Miss" Adventure With and Without Daughter Ruth

Daughter Ruth sitting by Virgin Creek, 3 miles in on a potentially ill-fated adventure.

In the spring of 2022 our oldest daughter Sheila and I did an Inn to Inn Hike in Sweden. That adventure was to celebrate us turning 50 and 70, though due to the pandemic we were 51 and 71 by the time it took place. I decided I wanted to do some sort of outdoor adventure with each of my children in honor of them turning 50 which son Scott and I did in 2023. He and I did a white water canoe trip on the La Croix River that forms part of the border between Maine and Canada in the fall of 2023. I'd had so much fun doing these outings with my oldest children, and realizing that I was aging faster than they were and that I would be over 80 by the time the last one would be 50, I decided to speed up the trajectory of these trips and do one a year. So in the spring of 2024 son Shawn (then age 48) and I rafted down the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon and hiked out on the Bright Angel Trail. In the fall of 2025 daughter Erin (then age 46) and I did a hiking trip in the Azores. 2026, while I am age 75, and daughter Ruth would be turning 44, was Ruth's turn. Having had a few years to anticipate her outdoor adventure Ruth considered first Norway and then landed on the idea of an African adventure for this summer. Just as we were about to make some definite plans the Iran war began and we both felt uneasy about international travel so began to consider something based in the U.S. Ruth has been a volunteer for an organization that does biodiversity studies and she learned of a project to place wildlife sound sensors in various locations in the Pacific Northwest that had previously experienced severe wildfires. She volunteered to place sensors in five locations in the Trinity Wilderness in North Western California in late May, and then she and I would backpack in the area about 6 weeks later to retrieve them as our mother and child outdoor adventure. It sounded like an excellent plan! Though I had done a little hiking in that area I had never backpacked there.

Ruth and her husband Jody went out to place the sensors the last weekend in May, thinking they would be able to do all five locations on that weekend, including the placement of 4 sensors in each of the five locations. The locations had been selected off trail in areas that were not popularly hiked, but that did not deter ultra runner Ruth from taking on this project. We anticipated that on our subsequent backpack trip in July that I would stick to trails and Ruth would divert to collect the sensors. Due to a variety of factors including a reserved rental Jeep not being ready on time, boarded up and closed gas stations, and worse terrain than anticipated by Ruth and Jody, they only managed to place sensors in one of the locations.

On the afternoon of Monday, June 1, when Rob and I had just returned from our road trip in California, Oregon and Washington, Ruth shared with us that she planned to go back to the wilderness alone on Tuesday, June 2, to place the rest of the sensors in the four remaining locations over the next 2 days, Wednesday and Thursday. As she discussed her ambitious plan Rob looked at me and said, "I think you should go with her, it doesn't sound like this is a place to go out alone." It would be a backpack adventure of 16 to 20 miles round trip, and I was thinking it would be a good pre-back to see if I would be up for a more ambitious trip in July. So on Tuesday afternoon, June 2, Ruth and I headed out, first to a meeting she needed to attend near Sacramento, and then on to Weaverville where we spent the night in a motel before heading to the New River Trailhead 3 hours north west - one hour on Highway 299 and two hours on a narrow winding road, paved and unpaved.

While packing our backpacks in the motel room on the morning of June 3, Ruth briefly considered using her day pack to carry the 20 pounds of equipment needed for the 2 sites she planned to place sensors at on Wednesday before we'd hike out on Thursday, and then drive to the remaining sites. She figured she could carry her sleeping bag, but maybe I could carry her food. Fortunately she ended up carrying all her gear needed for overnight in her regular backpack and we headed to the trailhead where we started our hike at about 10:30 AM.

I admit that I was feeling a bit anxious about the whole plan that included hiking in on the same trail for 3 miles and then splitting up to hike two separate trails. I would go to the right on the Eagle Creek Trail and find a campsite 8 to 10 miles from the trailhead and Ruth would take the Virgin Creek Trail to the left, place sensors at one location and then hike cross country to join my trail and place sensors at another location, and then find me on the Eagle Creek Trail. We had good walkie talkies for communication, but knew they were only good if there was a line of site not obstructed by terrain. We also knew that after we left the shared New River Trail we would be separated by a ridge, but we each had a GPS map to follow and confidence we would reconnect before night fall - not sure where that confidence came from. I was also nervous about Ruth's plan to hike cross country even though she had good way-finding resources and was in excellent physical shape preparing to run a 50k ultramarathon in the

Santa Cruz Mountains on July 11. She told me that if the cross country terrain looked impassable that she would return down the Virgin Creek Trail and then come up the Eagle Creek Trail to meet me.

When Ruth had planned to do the placing of these sensors without my coming along she had anticipated placing these two locations in one long "ultra run" of sorts. I admit that several times as the next 36 hours or so progressed I wondered if my coming along had been more of a detriment than a support. My pack probably weighed around 40 pounds, but I honestly think hers was close to 60 pounds. The last time I backpacked was 2 or 3 years ago, and I only hiked about 5 miles one way, so I was a little anxious about the distance too, but as I started out from the car behind Ruth on the late morning of June 3, I felt strong and confident that I could do this. I would be slow, but I was feeling confident I could make it to a campsite in the late afternoon. After an hour of hiking, mostly down hill to begin with, I was ready for a pack off break and found a log to sit on where there was no poison oak to eat a snack, write in my journal, and begin again. Ruth called on the walkie talkie to let me know that the creek crossing on the map was uncrossable. She said if she couldn't find another this might me a shortened adventure. Truth be told? Part of me hoped it was. There were too many uncertainties in what lay before us, especially for me, but I continued on and she radioed to tell me she'd found a good wet crossing of Virgin Creek, but that she'd wait there for me to be sure I was OK crossing it. This is where I really began to wonder if I was more of a burden than a help since I was slowing her down. When we were ready to leave the car I told her to go ahead, that I would be able to find my way to the area she designated for setting up camp, but now she was delayed as she waited for me to catch up.

The creek crossing was wet, but totally doable, and I chose to cross in my hiking boots instead of changing to sandals, so my shoes would be wet for the duration of the trip. That was actually, surprisingly, not much of a discomfort. After the crossing Ruth and I separated on our respective trails. I think I was about a mile in on mine when we had our last radio communication when Ruth asked about the condition of my trail. I said it was quite overgrown with lots of poison oak, clearly not used often, and there was bear scat. The bear scat was not a surprise, and I'm used to being in bear country at Lake Tahoe, but still, one does not want to surprise a bear on the trail. Ruth said her trail was quite overgrown with grass, and later I would learn that in many places she was only able to follow it by using GPS. Not long after loosing radio contact, which we knew would happen, I began to seriously question the wisdom of this whole adventure and wondered what Rob was thinking when he suggested I go along as "support." I also worried that this clearly rarely used trail might be blocked by fallen trees I couldn't get around. The trail was on the side of a steep slope most of the way, so no easy way to get around an obstruction. Most of the trail did feel safe to walk on, but there were some narrow places with a long slide down to the creek below that made me nervous. I was grateful for my trekking poles and hiking experience. About 1:30 during a pack break close to five miles from the car I wrote in my journal, "Not sure how long I can sit here with ants, but the creek before me is pretty, and it's cool here in the shade. Trying to stay clear of poison oak! Lots of butterflies flying around - and ants, a spider, and a mosquito."

About 7 miles from the car I came to what was a "chasm" that appeared completely un passable for me. It was probably less than 5 feet deep, but I couldn't see how I could cross it. I considered walking back to where there was a flat spot to set up camp, but I was thinking that had to be close to a mile behind me. I took off my pack, examined the map some, looked at the chasm and tried to figure out what to do. As I examined it closer I could see that there was a ledge that I was pretty sure I could get down and up without the pack. I finally decided to try it, a little fearful I'd have trouble climbing back up, but it worked. I was able to climb down and then pull my pack down and continue on about a mile further to the first spot I'd seen since crossing the "chasm" that was flat with no poison oak and room for two tents. It was above the creek with what looked like a trail going down to the creek where people, and bears, went to get water. It did appear that this campsite was right on a bear trail coming down from the ridge above. I thought about going on further, but when I explored the trail quickly became impassable. And the GPS map showed the trail on the other side of the creek though there had been no side trail down to the creek to cross anywhere before this place. In the morning I realized that what I thought was just a trail to the creek to get water was actually the main trail crossing.

After deciding on this spot, about 8 miles from the car to set up camp I wrote in my journal: "I think it's best to stay here where there is some flat space and an old fire pit, but it's right on the trail, not that I think anyone except bears will come by. There are mosquitos, and I can't reach Ruth on the walkie talkie, so I'm preparing to spend the night here, maybe alone. Not sure what else to do. I'm about two miles from where we were supposed to meet originally, and pretty close to where Ruth told me to start looking for a campsite. Just hoping she gets within walkie talkie range before dark. I won't put up my tent or fix dinner for a little while - maybe 6:30. I wonder where Ruth is - still trying to go cross country from where she was to place the first sensors? Lost somewhere on the trail she said was overgrown the last time I talked to her? Or is she coming up the trail behind me because she couldn't find a way cross country? And if I don't hear from her by morning, what do I do? Walk back out and go for help? We didn't talk about what to do if we don't meet up before dark, but I'm not comfortable going further! Oh Lord, in your mercy give me guidance, keep Ruth safe, help us to at least be able to talk on the walkie talkies! Was this a dumb idea, or part of being fully alive? Maybe a little of both. I am grateful that I have been able to be strong and get this far. I wasn't sure I could. And now I sit and wait while being eaten by mosquitos."

At 7:30 I was in the tent and had managed to contact Ruth's husband Jody through satellite text! My phone had been on airplane mode all day and I guess I turned it off of it to see if there was any kind of signal and found out I could send texts through satellite! I was hopeful Ruth might reach out to me or Jody the same way. Texting via satellite was a bit bumpy, but it helped to know I could have contact with someone. I knew Ruth had all she needed to spend the night on the trail just as I did. I did get some sleep though it was not real restful. I kept waking up from what I knew had to be dreams and not wakeful ruminations, because they included Ruth facing challenges that were not in the wilderness. I was grateful that I had hiked strong, though slow, for 8 miles and grateful that I had made contact with Jody.

At first light after a night with no bears and fitful sleep I emerged from the tent to pump water, fix some breakfast and pack up. I consulted with Jody via text and we both agreed that the best plan was for me to hike back to the car, and then make a decision about what to do if I had not made contact with Ruth, so I began what I knew would be a slow hike back to the car, but I would try to make it as fast as I could. Every few minutes I tried to reach her on the walkie talkie. About 9:00 AM when I was sitting on a log taking a break I heard on the radio, "Do you copy?" What a relief to hear Ruth's voice! "Where are you?" I asked. But the only reply I heard was, "Do you copy?" I quickly said, "Yes, I'm 5 1/2 miles from the car." Ruth replied, "Copy that, you're 5 1/2 miles from the car," and then our connection went dead. I sat there for a bit hoping to hear more, and I texted Jody to let him know I had heard from her. Not knowing where she was - whether she was headed toward me from the ridge above, in front of me on the trail either heading toward the car or toward me, or on the trail behind me coming toward me - I wasn't sure at first what to do. I didn't know if she would think I was just waiting for her to join me or that I was actually heading toward the car. I would later learn that I had also said that I was hiking out, and she had replied, but I didn't hear it, "Good, keep going to the car." I concluded that I needed to keep hiking to the car, and I began to hike again, but a bit slower, buoyed up by knowing that she was alive, where I didn't know, or what way she was headed, but thinking she might be catching up to me.

There were places on the trail hiking out where I had to rely on the GPS to be sure I was still on the trail, and the last mile to the top of the trail was a hard slog uphill. There were some pretty places on the trail, mainly in looking down at the creek, but at something under 4,000 feet, overgrown, with the threat of bears, rattlesnakes, tics and poison oak I kept thinking, "If this adventure turns out alright, how am I going to tell Ruth that I'm not hiking back on this trail in July with her to retrieve the sensors?" I reached the car around 2:00 after multiple times of trying to reach Ruth via the walkie talkie. When I got to the car I was exhausted, but OK. After a few exchanges with Jody we were both beginning to wonder when and how to contact emergency help. I didn't want to drive anywhere for help for fear Ruth might come to the trail head and not find me there. Satellite texting was new to me and it took until after 5:00 PM to consider that I might be able to text 911. While trying to text I was having trouble making contact with a satellite when I was in the relatively wide open space at the trail head. Back in the canyon though my phone would tell me to turn to the right or left to reach a satellite, here where there was much more sky to look at I kept getting messages like, "another satellite will come near in 6 minutes," or 13 minutes, or some other increment of time! The first replies I received were obviously from AI and it could not understand my complete sentences. Arghh!

Finally at 5:50 PM I received a text message back, "911 What is your emergency?" I responded, "My 43 year old daughter is overdue returning from backpacking in Trinity Wilderness." and then the message I received was, "Are you able to receive our text messages?" "Yes" I replied. At 6:12 PM. I gave very detailed information about where I was, the trails we'd hiked on and that I had received a walkie talkie communication in the morning. I was told a deputy was being contacted, and then 20 minutes later I was asked, "Am I correct in assuming the hike began in Humboldt?" Are they kidding, I thought? "No, Trinity," I replied. Then finally at about 7:00 PM I was told a deputy was on the way to get more information from me.

I knew it would be a minimum of 2 hours before I would see a deputy, and I also knew that because it would be dark by then that no search could be initiated before morning, but I was anxious to get the process started so a search could begin at first light if Ruth did not arrive before morning. I prepared the car to sleep in, and waited to hear from Ruth and/or the deputy. I texted some with Jody to let him know what was happening, and to have him inform Rob that no matter what we would not be home that night.

At a few minutes after 9:00 I heard the cackle of the radio! Ruth was calling to say she was 2 miles from the car. It was of course dark and so I asked if she was going to push through to the car. She said she had to since here gear was all wet. I then confessed that I had called for emergency help and that a deputy could be arriving at any moment, and asked if she wanted me to send the deputy away. "No," was her emphatic response, "I've been fighting bears, it's been a day! If the deputy arrives please have them hike down to meet me." Just minutes after our radio conversation two deputies arrived, and I was able to tell them that I had just heard from Ruth, that she was two miles down the New River Trail and that she requested they hike in to escort her out the rest of the way. They were very happy to oblige, expressing that they were bringing me the bad news that they could not initiate a search until morning, which I already knew. But because they knew where she was they were very to happy to oblige. When I relayed her report of having been fighting bears, the lead deputy eagerly grabbed his rifle and they headed down the trail. I let Ruth know they were on the way, and when she saw their head lamps approaching she radioed to tell me that, and we both became emotional for the first time. It wasn't too long before they all emerged from the trail, Ruth and I hugged, and we expressed our gratitude to the deputies. And they were happy for a good result.

They asked if we planned to try to drive all the way home that night and when we said no that we'd try to spend the night in Weaverville, they suggested a motel that should have a room and be responsive to our late night (early morning) arrival. And indeed the 49er welcomed us at 1:00 AM and a nice, clean motel room never looked so good!

On the way to Weaverville Ruth recounted all she'd been through: rugged terrain, realizing she'd not brought the correct cord to connect her phone for recharging to a backup battery, two different bears charging her with one so intent on getting her that it came close enough for her to hit it over the head with her trekking pole hard enough to bend the pole, walking in Eagle Creek because it was easier than walking on the steep sides of the creek thus getting her backpack all wet and wondering where I was and how I was doing; she concluded that she was done with the volunteer project! She would not place sensors at the other three sites, and she would not plan to return to retrieve the ones she had placed. Whew! I didn't have to tell her I wasn't going back on that trail!

We talked about still backpacking in the Trinity Wilderness in July for her pre 50 adventure with Mom, but at a higher elevation where there are lots of lakes and well traveled trails.

Epilogue:

We both wanted showers, but were too tired to do anything but fall into bed as soon as we got to our room. In the morning, about 8:00 AM I walked over to the hotel office to figure out how to operate the shower and as I did I heard a familiar voice call my name. It was Larry, someone I know from the Eureka area. He and I had been at a planning meeting just the previous Saturday for a retreat we would be volunteers on the following week. I briefly recounted our adventure and our unplanned stay at the 49er, and he said he and his friends had also not planned to be there. They had been going to their fishing cabin on the Klamath River and arrived to find a gate locked with a lock they had no key for. Instead of heading back home they decided to have an adventure in Weaverville. Larry also ended up at the same diner where Ruth and I both had substantial breakfasts. What a serendipity to meet a friend after our adventure and to share what we had been through.

There was no real rest for the weary though. We got back to our Colfax area home about 1:30 where I had to quickly pack to leave with Rob for a retreat meeting in Napa. Ruth with two tic bites, some poison oak, scrapes and bruises and a nasty blood blister on one toe was flying to Maine early the next morning for of all things, a running retreat! I was naturally a bit sore, but no injuries.

Needless to say we were both fatigued, but grateful to have emerged from our Miss Adventure in the Trinity Wilderness in time for new adventures! Ruth who climbed much higher on the ridge than I did got to see the starry night from where she slept. I made it through the unplanned solo night on the trail, and found that my regular practice of journal writing helped to sustain me. Our strong constitutions and hiking and wilderness experience came in handy, but neither of us want a repeat of this kind of adventure!