Sticking together
Friends survive overnight ordeal snowbound on Duckwall Mountain
Joe Schweitzer and Dean Nelson had a handful of Jolly Rancher hard candies between them, two 12-ounce bottles of water, Schweitzer’s dog, George, a lighter, some dry newspaper, and some starter fluid.
With that, along with inspiration from their West Side Trail friends, their faith in God, and their know-how from spending decades in the outdoors, the two buddies — Nelson 71 and Schweitzer 67 — from the township of Tuolumne managed to survive an overnight snowbound ordeal on the cold side of Duckwall Mountain a week-and-a-half ago.
The next morning, Nelson walked farther up Duckwall to get cell reception and call for help for Schweitzer.
Nelson walked about 10 miles altogether through snow up to 16 inches deep, frozen and slick in places, using sticks of wood as poles to keep his balance, to reach Cottonwood Road where his son picked him up.
“I wasn’t even hungry,” Nelson said Tuesday at the West Side Trail. “We had five Jolly Ranchers each. When my son picked me up I still had two Jolly Ranchers left.”
It was about 11 a.m. Saturday, Nov. 12, when Schweitzer and Nelson decided to leave Tuolumne and go check out the snow on the back side of Duckwall. It was a day or two since the last storm had brought rain in the foothills and snow higher in the mountains. Duckwall Mountain’s summit is 5,835 feet, not counting the fire lookout tower on top.
They went out Forest Road 2N11 in Schweitzer’s 1996 fourwheel-drive, automatic transmission Jeep Cherokee.
“It was cloudy off and on,” Schweitzer said. “Dean was driving. We wanted to see the snow. In 30 years we’d done it countless times. We came to the snow line and drove a little ways in the snow.”
It was about 12:30 p.m. when they came to the snow line, Nelson said. They kept going uphill, stopping every once in a while. The snow was about 4 inches deep when they decided to turn around. They didn’t want to get stuck.
“Then the transmission died,” Schweitzer said. “A line broke and it quit.”
The transmission was slipping and it wouldn’t go into gear, Nelson said. They tried it for about 10 minutes and then reality set in: They were going to have to spend the night out in sub-freezing temperatures.
“We decided it would be safer to make a fire and spend the night rather than walk out,” Schweitzer said. “Me, Dean, and my dog, George.”
It was about 3 p.m., and they knew sundown was coming fast. Schweitzer and Nelson kept their heads clear because they’d been through similar situations.
Schweitzer had some dry newspaper in the Jeep and a spray can of flammable starter fluid for the Jeep’s engine. There was plenty of pine and cedar wood on the ground from previous logging efforts on Duckwall, but most of it was wet from the snow.
“We gathered wood for five minutes, some dead cedar limbs, and got a small fire going,” Schweitzer said. “If something happens like this, the fire is the main thing. It was cold enough to half-freeze the water bottles. Once we got the little fire going we right away went to gather more wood and kept feeding the fire. We just kept gathering wood. That keeps you warm, just walking back and forth and digging the wood out of the snow. Thank God I had a flashlight so we could gather in the dark.”
They kept the fire going all night, eventually building it up to a big, hot bonfire with hot coals, hot enough so they could take turns sleeping in the Jeep with the heat on. It was so cold that night that even standing right next to the fire, a foot away from the flames, “your front gets warm and your back gets frozen, like a rotisserie in a freezer,” Schweitzer said.
However, they never lost faith. They knew they had the fire and needed to stay together. They had a plan. They both had mobile phones and knew they had no reception where they were, so they kept their phones turned off to conserve battery power.
Around first light, Nelson shook Schweitzer’s hand, told him, “I hope I see you again, I’m going to get help.”
Schweitzer stayed at the fire with the brokendown Jeep and his dog, George. Nelson walked up Duckwall and got cell reception about 9 a.m. He made three calls and got through to his daughter, Schweitzer’s wife, and his son, Joshua, in Tuolumne.
Nelson arranged for Kyle Willis, a friend of
Schweitzer’s, to drive out to Schweitzer, pick him up, and tow the Jeep. Nelson also told his son to meet him on Cottonwood Road, and he started walking on out.
Walking off the north side of Duckwall, the snow was 14 to 16 inches deep, and it was icy underfoot in places. Nelson used pieces of wood to keep his balance and prevent potential ankle-breaking falls on the slicked-up, slippery, frozen descent.
Meanwhile, Willis drove out to where Schweitzer was waiting.
“Kyle came and got me about 10:30, 11 a.m. and he brought me coffee,” Schweitzer said. “He gets the best coffee award and the best delivery award. I was still collecting firewood. He towed the Jeep with a chain and brought me home.”
Nelson made it to Cottonwood just after noon. His son pulled up just as Nelson walked up to their rendezvous point. Nelson and Schweitzer were both back home at their places in Tuolumne by Sunday afternoon.
“Dean got home and passed out,” Schweitzer said. “I talked to him about 6 p.m. Sunday to make sure he was okay. If you split up, you got to make sure the other person is out. Years ago, a senior rescue guy told me most people split up and only one comes out. We had our game plan. I knew it would work.”
Schweitzer credits some of his backwoods survival know-how to a time when he was 31 years old, he and another friend rode horses from Kennedy Meadows to Snow Lake to hunt deer. It started snowing hard and in the whiteout, they decided to try to get out.
They were lost for two days and decided to walk east. They finally made it out to Leavitt Meadows Pack Station on the east side of Sonora Pass in Mono County, just above Pickel Meadows and the Marine Corps Mountain Warfare Training Center.
“We were all wet from walking in the snow,” Schweitzer said. “We made a big fire one night and stripped down to dry off. That’s what saved us. My buddy that time was George. That’s who my dog is named after.”
The moral of the story, Schweitzer said, comes from a chance meeting with another friend, Anna Caldera, who Schweitzer and Nelson had seen early on the morning of Nov. 12, a couple hours before they began their drive out to the north side of Duckwall Mountain.
“We know her from the West Side Trail,” Schweitzer said. “We were talking about church, and we were talking about walking. We were saying that being outside and walking, it’s like going to church, when we’re walking out here in the mountains.”
Once they were back from their adventure, Schweitzer and Nelson agreed that God listens and has a sense of humor, and God worked it out so Schweitzer and Nelson, since they like church so much, could spend the night out in it.
“He was with us,” Schweitzer said, “because that’s how you get through something like that.”
Schweitzer walks 2 miles a day, five days a week. Nelson walks 5 miles a day, five days a week.
The two men gathered Tuesday morning on the West Side Trail to thank the people who inspire them — Tuolumne-area people they meet every day on trail: Caldera, 60, Lynne Jerome, 79, Gene Elkins, 80, Karin Fleming, 49, Linda Post, 65, her dog, Murphy, and Michael Duck, 78.
“Everybody out here has injuries they’re rehabbing,” Nelson said. “Joe’s knees. I have a broken heel and torn Achilles tendon from running out here. What about you, Anna?”
Caldera smirked and said, “Real honesty? Divorce!”
Everyone burst out laughing, and Caldera hugged Nelson.
Some of the people walked back to their vehicles at the West Side trailhead, while others walked farther east to see what they could see as the sun continued rising and warming the North Fork Tuolumne River canyon below.