On Saturday, April 9, 2022, at 1:56pm, a hiker posted the following to a Facebook group:
Hello. I need help. Got blown of Madison. 802-505-xxxx [He gave his real last four digits]
Needless to say, by the time a friend had sent me a screen shot of this, it already had 145 comments, including one that said she had called 911 for him.
On Sunday, said hiker posted a follow-up:
Hey everyone,
As some of you may know, I was involved in a scary situation up on Mount Madison in the Presidential Range yesterday. I was asked to share my experience of what happened up there so that it could help someone down the road who might find themselves in a similar situation. Here is what I remember about what happened...
I decided to try and bag both Mount Adams and Mount Madison yesterday. The weather report looked decent with some rain at lower elevations, turning into potential snow above the tree line, nothing that I haven't hiked in before. I started out like any other hike (except seeing a black bear about 1.5 miles up the trail) and summited Adams in just over a couple of hours. It was spitting snow as I started towards the summit, but the visibility was OK. As I was eating lunch at the summit, the weather started to shift a little bit with the wind picking up and the visibility becoming worse. In hindsight, this would have been a great place to call it a day, but I waited it out and headed down and over to Mount Madison once the storm calmed.
As I reached the summit of Madison which is a little under 1.5 miles from the top of Mount Adams, the weather took a dramatic shift. The wind picked up and the snow was blowing sideways (pretty much a snow squall on top of a mountain). I was totally exposed and the storm did not let up even though I tried to wait it out. At this time, visibility was maybe 20-25 feet. Eventually I decided it was time to make an attempt to descend. I hiked down and through the trail junction that was on my map only to never find the trail. I ended up in trees and deep snow. I decided to follow my footprints back up to the junction sign. Unfortunately, the snow had blown over and covered my footprints so I lost that trail. I couldn't locate any cairns to get back on a path, so I re-summited Madison and started over. I descended again, but couldn't find the trail to get on the Watson Path, which was supposed to lead me down the mountain. Instead I ended up in deep snow and trees again. This is where I started to become scared and made the decision to reach out for help. The cold temperatures had pretty much killed my phone. I was worried about trying to call 9-1-1 with my battery level and didn't think I would be able to connect to a call and share my info before my phone died. Instead, I reached out to my hiking group here so at least people knew of my situation. I have since learned that you can text 9-1-1 in cases of emergency, which is helpful information to have.
After reaching out, my phone died and I tried to come up with a different plan to get back on trail. I was still completely exposed and needed to find a way to get below the alpine zone. I hiked partially back up Madison one more time to hopefully find a path. I got lucky and found a trail. It definitely wasn't a trail that I was familiar with, but it was a path that led down so I got on it and hoped it led to some sort of marking that would tell me where I was. The trail led down to a junction where a sign pointed me towards the Madison Hut which was 1.2 miles away. Not the best news...but not the worst since I could get down if I could reach the hut. The only problem was whatever trail this was hadn't been used in quite a long time. I slogged for who knows how long in knee deep snow. I would take two steps and drop in again which was starting to suck the energy out of me. I eventually crawled some of the way to avoid falling in and getting my boots and socks more wet. Eventually, this trail led me back up into the alpine zone, which was really discouraging. Essentially, I had done a giant circle. The silver lining was the trail had led me back to the junction sign that I had lost contact with a few hours before. The junction sign pointed me to the Madison Hut which was a half mile away. The visibility was still terrible (maybe 20-25 feet), but I was able to locate cairns and follow them down to the Hut. All in all I spent about 4 hours on Mount Madison in some not so great conditions.
Once I was at the Hut (closed for the Winter), I thought my best bet was to re-scale to the base of the Adams summit where I could get back onto the Air Line trail and head down the same way I came up. At this point I was pretty zapped, but I knew I couldn't stand around. The visibility was still awful, but I was able to stay on the cairns and get up to the Air Line trail and finally descend back down to my car.
I hope my story is a learning experience for people. Sometimes it is best to not challenge Mother Nature and just save it for another day. I am thankful for the hiking community and my friends who I have received hundreds of messages from since I got down and were organizing ways to find me if I wasn't able to self rescue. I am also thankful for the people who reached out with advice. I am thankful for the lessons my dad taught me when I was younger around staying sharp and not panicking if you were to ever become lost in the woods and every coach/adult I had that preached the importance of mental toughness. I am thankful my mind, my body and my equipment held up for me (thank you North Face and Kahtoola Ice Spikes) and that I was lucky enough to find my way down. I am forever grateful for the cairns and the people that set them up. I am truly lucky to have been able to walk out off the mountain with a few bruises and a good story.
Hello. I need help. Got blown of Madison. 802-505-xxxx [He gave his real last four digits]
Needless to say, by the time a friend had sent me a screen shot of this, it already had 145 comments, including one that said she had called 911 for him.
On Sunday, said hiker posted a follow-up:
Hey everyone,
As some of you may know, I was involved in a scary situation up on Mount Madison in the Presidential Range yesterday. I was asked to share my experience of what happened up there so that it could help someone down the road who might find themselves in a similar situation. Here is what I remember about what happened...
I decided to try and bag both Mount Adams and Mount Madison yesterday. The weather report looked decent with some rain at lower elevations, turning into potential snow above the tree line, nothing that I haven't hiked in before. I started out like any other hike (except seeing a black bear about 1.5 miles up the trail) and summited Adams in just over a couple of hours. It was spitting snow as I started towards the summit, but the visibility was OK. As I was eating lunch at the summit, the weather started to shift a little bit with the wind picking up and the visibility becoming worse. In hindsight, this would have been a great place to call it a day, but I waited it out and headed down and over to Mount Madison once the storm calmed.
As I reached the summit of Madison which is a little under 1.5 miles from the top of Mount Adams, the weather took a dramatic shift. The wind picked up and the snow was blowing sideways (pretty much a snow squall on top of a mountain). I was totally exposed and the storm did not let up even though I tried to wait it out. At this time, visibility was maybe 20-25 feet. Eventually I decided it was time to make an attempt to descend. I hiked down and through the trail junction that was on my map only to never find the trail. I ended up in trees and deep snow. I decided to follow my footprints back up to the junction sign. Unfortunately, the snow had blown over and covered my footprints so I lost that trail. I couldn't locate any cairns to get back on a path, so I re-summited Madison and started over. I descended again, but couldn't find the trail to get on the Watson Path, which was supposed to lead me down the mountain. Instead I ended up in deep snow and trees again. This is where I started to become scared and made the decision to reach out for help. The cold temperatures had pretty much killed my phone. I was worried about trying to call 9-1-1 with my battery level and didn't think I would be able to connect to a call and share my info before my phone died. Instead, I reached out to my hiking group here so at least people knew of my situation. I have since learned that you can text 9-1-1 in cases of emergency, which is helpful information to have.
After reaching out, my phone died and I tried to come up with a different plan to get back on trail. I was still completely exposed and needed to find a way to get below the alpine zone. I hiked partially back up Madison one more time to hopefully find a path. I got lucky and found a trail. It definitely wasn't a trail that I was familiar with, but it was a path that led down so I got on it and hoped it led to some sort of marking that would tell me where I was. The trail led down to a junction where a sign pointed me towards the Madison Hut which was 1.2 miles away. Not the best news...but not the worst since I could get down if I could reach the hut. The only problem was whatever trail this was hadn't been used in quite a long time. I slogged for who knows how long in knee deep snow. I would take two steps and drop in again which was starting to suck the energy out of me. I eventually crawled some of the way to avoid falling in and getting my boots and socks more wet. Eventually, this trail led me back up into the alpine zone, which was really discouraging. Essentially, I had done a giant circle. The silver lining was the trail had led me back to the junction sign that I had lost contact with a few hours before. The junction sign pointed me to the Madison Hut which was a half mile away. The visibility was still terrible (maybe 20-25 feet), but I was able to locate cairns and follow them down to the Hut. All in all I spent about 4 hours on Mount Madison in some not so great conditions.
Once I was at the Hut (closed for the Winter), I thought my best bet was to re-scale to the base of the Adams summit where I could get back onto the Air Line trail and head down the same way I came up. At this point I was pretty zapped, but I knew I couldn't stand around. The visibility was still awful, but I was able to stay on the cairns and get up to the Air Line trail and finally descend back down to my car.
I hope my story is a learning experience for people. Sometimes it is best to not challenge Mother Nature and just save it for another day. I am thankful for the hiking community and my friends who I have received hundreds of messages from since I got down and were organizing ways to find me if I wasn't able to self rescue. I am also thankful for the people who reached out with advice. I am thankful for the lessons my dad taught me when I was younger around staying sharp and not panicking if you were to ever become lost in the woods and every coach/adult I had that preached the importance of mental toughness. I am thankful my mind, my body and my equipment held up for me (thank you North Face and Kahtoola Ice Spikes) and that I was lucky enough to find my way down. I am forever grateful for the cairns and the people that set them up. I am truly lucky to have been able to walk out off the mountain with a few bruises and a good story.