Seems like an auspicious start. Turns out many of our companions have read about this hike through Sunset magazine. I have no knowledge of this fact until we are well upon the way to a commit/no commit point and after such a drive, the die has been cast.
Its a long drive through the backs of orchards. Up here its kind of like Hawaii, everything quite visible but quite pegged back from the world at large. You pass by homes, farm yards that have only been seen by a few hundred people. Its a very nice world that you can look upon only from a distance.
A shame, too -- its an area not unlike where I grew up, though far hillier than the East Bay.
Hills here go All The Way Up. My guide book puts the hills at something like 1700 and 2100". Serious elevation.
Our guide takes us straight up the fall line in fairly short order. This is something that is by and large the most direct route of the mountain but it speaks poorly of group management. This hiking style does not scale well. I hear the ridge hike is worse.
In the developed world we have trails, switchbacks. Dog poop and litter too, but given that the group is not encouraged to "hike lightly", the lower valleys will soon give way to fire roads of sufficient access.
When our travelling friend goes down from an electrolyte imbalance at around lunchtime during the classrool m break in the march, things get weird. A circus of sort ensues, in which she is the central attraction, but look how many rings!
There's the group advocating and demonstrating sucessively more advanced forms of the litter. The litter is a devolution from a stokes, which I can tell you from personal experience in lifting an equivalent load is no great picnic in itself. Two wobbly-assed bars with belts will not make a good time over the supposedly 1/4 mile from our position to the nearest gate.
Our guide first contemplates continuing the hike and leaving the downed hiker there. Say what you will about their true adventuresomeness, these folks in their fresh Eddie Bauer gear have the proper heart for an endeavor and refuse to leave a person behind.
Contact with emergency personell and likely ultimate rescue were determined by people on the trip. A fortunately charged cellular phone along with my wife's GPS device managed to save the day. On the next such occasion, we won't be there and the problem might be more life threatning.
To their credit the right solution is finally agreed upon: bring out the chopper.
We hear that the chopper is coming about the time we hear the chopper. This is one of those weird bits of news that indicates action is taking place on chanels outside our own.
Now *this* will make two hours of dorking about well worth while.
The bird is shiney and red. We are spaced all over hell's half acre but under the circumstances we're pointing a pretty good arrow towards the scene of the victim and outwards towards reasonable landing zones. Each of us, it seems, wanted to be the person to wave the chopper in.
The pilots know what the hell they are doing and land the chopper remarkably picturesquely on a lovely plateau surrounded by younger trees and wild California grain.
The paramedic hops out and she immediately starts MCing the show. "Damn, there's a thousand of you," she says. Not all of us need lifts, of course. We wordlessly shuffle her towards the victim where she strikes the uniform pose of victim triage.
We cluster around in that pose that says we are attendant for whatever is required and to pass witness.
"Victim is 55, breathing erratically, eleveated BP, irregular heartbeat."
Ah, we nod. Maybe not life threatening but get this nice lady into safer hands, OK. Sounds like she qualifies.
The medic's pepper is never-failing. She pauses for the squawk back from the radio and is off again. Lets load her into the chopper. Can she walk, etc?
I used to know how to manage a scene like this. Its nice to see there's professional work in it. Seems like good times. Probably a lot of Really Bad Times too when having a spiel to dissipate into would be a nice thing.
Gra---- leaps to his wife's aid, throws a shoulder. The medic grills him: you a relative, spouse? Husband, really -- you're not just some creep who happens to like big butts are you? No, okay then, take her hand here more like this (flops wing) and lets go.
No further assistance is needed from us. When we are nealy at the clearing she advises us that we are all going to stand at the edge of the forest back a little ways so we don't get hit by branches and wave at our friend when she goes away.
We are glad to have something to do.
The glade is a wonderful place to stand around and its sad that it took something as momentous as this to pull us out of our poision oak covered vista.
Our guide has to be prodded into thinking of the people he'd sent to meet help -- on his own he would have, again, continued the hike without them.
No, the group says, we should all go down and meet them.
Yes, our guide agrees, there are other things I can show you once we are all together. It will be a revised trip.
Yes, so long as we are all together the group agrees.
This is what is important.
Not bad for a bunch of Eddie Bauer adventurers.