Montrose Search and Rescue – Lost Women Hikers Kept Their Wits
Longtime friends Nancy and Vicki were young, just out of their teens, when they planned an overly ambitious hike one Saturday in January 1988. Their day hike was to be from Trail Canyon in Big Tujunga to the top of Condor Peak, looping back to Vogel Flats, a round trip of about 14 miles. It had been raining but was clearing when they embarked. They wore sweatshirts and rain ponchos, and carried food and water. But they were not prepared for the condition of the trail. It started off well marked, but as they went higher the trail began to peter out into a rough track, and the climbing got more difficult.
By the time they reached the summit of Condor Peak it was 4 p.m., and they were bone tired and their legs were beginning to cramp. They lost the trail at this point. A heavy wet fog moved in, further confusing their sense of direction. They feared that they would have to spend the night, and they steeled their resolve. As darkness fell so did their spirits, and a battle with their emotions began. They were tired, damp and cold, and depression, anger and frustration crept into their minds. There was a gnawing fear that they would never find their way out. But they fought the fear and encouraged each other, keeping the fear from turning to panic. Nancy later said, “We were confident of our abilities.”
About 7 p.m. they found a stream and began to follow it downhill. They finally stopped when they reached a waterfall that disappeared into darkness. It started to rain. Wet and cold, they lay down between two boulders with their ponchos stretched over as a tarp. Sleep came only intermittently. Between bouts of shivering, Vicki kept her spirits up by telling herself jokes and making up funny commercials in her head.
Fortunately, the two women had performed the most important safety task of any hike – they told someone where they would be hiking. At 7 p.m. Saturday night Vicki’s dad called them in as missing, and by 8 p.m., 23 members of Montrose Search and Rescue team were on their trail. From Trail Canyon, they tracked the women’s footprints all the way to the top of Condor Peak. But on the rocky top they lost them. The MSR split up into smaller groups, some to search all night, others to rest to renew the search in the morning. That night one search party came within a half mile of the women, but fog and rain kept the women from seeing their lights or hearing their whistles.
Sunday morning dawned to cold fog and rain. Nancy and Vicki climbed down around the waterfall, one of many they would face, and continued downstream. They pushed their failing bodies all day, kept their minds focused on a positive outcome. By late afternoon Sunday they hit Big Tujunga Canyon Road and were picked up by a sheriff patrol car.
At 4 p.m. Sunday, the radio call went out that the lost hikers had been found, and the scattered MSR teams headed down the mountain. Ironically one three-man group got “hung up” in the dark at a 100-foot waterfall, perhaps the same one that had stopped the women the night before. Erring on the side of safety they radioed for help getting down, and the team returned up the mountain for them. One later said: “The team had been out all Saturday night and all day Sunday. But when they found out we were stuck, they all came back. It’s a group, and I can’t tell you how enjoyable it has been for me to be a member.”
After the search, an MSR leader said the only mistake the women had made was to press on after they knew they were lost: “Don’t wander. That’s where the danger comes in.”
Indeed, had they stopped at Condor Peak they would have been found on Saturday night. The women had been lucky, but keeping a positive attitude also paid off. They had kept going by mental strength. Nancy reflected later, “It really is interesting what strength can come from the mind.”