ShareThisChris Bruce had no trouble climbing Mount Adams. Getting back down Washington state's second-highest peak was another story.
Bruce and partners Mike Gouin and Dustin Miller, sailors on the submarine USS Nebraska, reached the 12,276-foot summit at about 2:30 p.m. June 7. They looked down at a cushion of clouds. Mount Hood and Mount Rainier jutted into the blue sky to the south and north.
"It was gorgeous," Bruce said. "It felt like we were on top of the world."
They reveled in the 2.5-mile-high atmosphere for a couple hours, and were the last climbing party to leave. Bruce, planning to glissade down, went first; his pals followed on snowboards.
About a quarter of the way to their camp at Pikers Peak, the Navy radioman became separated from his friends when dense fog rolled in. Gouin and Miller made it down. Bruce was stuck on the mountain with little more than the clothes on his back.
Bruce, unable to see beyond 20 feet, overshot the camp. Not sure he could find his way as evening fell, he called girlfriend Kelly Gemmell on his cell phone and asked her to contact 911. Yakima County Sheriff's Office Search and Rescue was hours from the site and couldn't be there before dark. A search wouldn't begin until daybreak.
Gemmell texted Bruce: "Baby, I love you. Sorry, they're not coming until morning. Stay where you are."
He didn't respond. His phone battery had died.
Nearly down to the tree line, Bruce hiked back up 500 feet to a snow-free clearing and built a wind-breaking rock fort. He took apart his backpack, using the brace to insulate himself from the cold mud and the sack to curl up in. He had one energy bar, and ate half of it.
The 25-year-old Texas native shivered himself to sleep. He woke up every hour and danced around to stay warm and keep the blood flowing. Hypothermia began to set in, including mild hallucinations, he said.
When a bright full moon popped over a ridge, he believed it was a spotlight and that help had arrived. Later he heard a rock fall from the peak and a rustling sound like a snowboard, and thought a rock formation was his friend Miller coming to rescue him. Finally, the sun began to rise.
"I knew all I had to do was make it through the night and if it was a clear day the sun would warm me up and I'd be just fine," Bruce said.
He climbed up even higher for a better view, and sighted some houses several miles away. He didn't have a compass, but used the sun to navigate toward them.
"To a degree, I enjoyed it," he said. "I was actually happy because I knew the worst was behind me."
He tromped a trail through the snowy woods, following a runoff creek to Morrison Creek, to a campground on Morrison Creek trail, to the trailhead and down a dirt road. There sat an empty search-and-rescue truck. It was about 10 a.m.
"He literally found them, they didn't find him," Gemmell said.
Bruce got on the radio: "Search and rescue team, this is the lost hiker, come in. Over. They said are you there? I said, 'Yeah, I'm at your truck right now.'"
They came down and gave Bruce some food and water and got word to his partners, who had been searching for him.
Bruce said he'd do a few things differently next time. He'd keep some supplies with him even if he was going just a short distance from camp, be more prepared for the unexpected, like a freak fog, and possibly bring two-way radios.
"All in all, I don't regret it," said Bruce, who suffered only some frostbite on his nose. "I learned from my mistakes."
(Contact Ed Friedrich of The Sun in Bremerton, Wash., at www.kitsapsun.com.)
