Larry Beahan, June 2011
“For I’m a wise egg, I can lie steal or beg and I’ve traveled this world all around.
I been East, I been West and I’m there with the best when it comes to covering ground” …but I got lost in Allegany State Park.
I’m an Eagle Scout. I’ve bushwhacked 25 miles from Stillwater to Wanakena across the Adirondack’s Five Ponds Wilderness. I’ve taught mountaineering for the National Ski Patrol, climbed Mount Marcy, Mount Katahdin and a couple of fourteen-thousand-foot peaks in Colorado. What the heck, I’ve been up Mount Fuji and I didn’t get lost till Allegany.
June 11 I was in the Park for an Allegany State Park Historical Society Weekend. A friend and I decided to take a little walk, not a hike, just a little stroll into the 350 –year-old hemlocks off ASP 1. I’d been into those big trees twice before with Bruce Kershner who was an expert on old growth forests. I should have remembered that he got lost in there once.
About 2 pm we told Rick Feuz at Camp Allegany exactly where we were headed and where we would park the car. We laughed as we told him, “Come get us if we aren’t back for dinner.” In the back of my mind there must have been a feeling of extra security since my friend, Jerry Sultz, who is a member of the Western New York Search and Rescue Team, told me that the Team would be in the Park that weekend, doing practice searches. But I had no conscious idea they might have to look for us.
The route of our walk was simple, just follow this creek till you get to the big trees, take some pictures, turn around and follow the creek back to the road. But there are a lot of big trees till you get to the really big ones. The terrain is full of moss-covered boulders, downed trees and is cut up by small creeks feeding the main stream. It is dark and beautiful.
After forty minutes we had gotten our pictures and turned around to head back up-stream or at least that’s what we thought we were doing. We looked for unique, familiar features but all the trees and boulders looked the same. We decided that somehow we had walked further downstream instead of up or that we had walked up a wrong tributary. We turned around again and walked and walked, clambering over rocks and around giant fallen trees, crossing brooks on and on. Still nothing familiar appeared. Our compass was of no use because we had neglected to bring a map and did not have a clear idea how the road related to our trek. A bushwhack east might have taken us into the road or into a vast wilderness.
The day was hot and humid. We were dripping sweat. My lightweight cotton shirt soaked through. My liter of water was gone in no time. Our pace slowed, we stopped to rest frequently. About 6:30 we admitted we were dead lost and exhausted. We had contradictory theories about how to walk out. I thought we should retrace our route once more looking for something familiar. My companion thought we should bushwhack away from the creek toward where we believed the road might be.
Our fatigue dictated a compromise and we followed the standard advice to those lost in the woods. “Make yourself comfortable and wait to be rescued.” So we sat down on leaves in a flat, relatively dry spot and waited. It was a few minutes before my companion noticed that we were surrounded by poison oak. We moved our bivouac several yards away.
We had not prepared for a “Hike.” On a “Hike” there are ten essential things you must bring: map, compass, flashlight, food, extra clothing, rain gear, shelter, first aid kit, knife, fire-starting equipment. With them we might have built a shelter, lit a fire, made supper and rested in relative comfort.
I had only four of the essentials: compass, flashlight, first aid kit and a knife. I carried them in a small back pack that provided me some insulation when I sat on the damp ground. I also had along a very loud whistle which we used liberally. Cell phones are not very effective in Allegany’s rugged hills.
It got dark quickly and soon I was shivering and experiencing muscle cramps, symptoms of salt and water depletion. We huddled together for warmth, exchanged life histories and finally tried to sleep. From time to time we heard car horns blowing and shouts. We answered with our own yells and three blasts on the whistle, the universal distress signal. We hoped those were the shouts of people looking for us, feared they were just people having a Friday night out.
The woods were pitch black. We decided that no one would chance a broken leg looking for us in this rough country until day-light. I slept a little, shook a lot and dozed off. About 10:30 I woke to hear more shouts. We responded with the whistle and our own shouts. Their shouts came closer. Then lights from head lamps approached through the woods. I lit my head lamp and they were there. Jerry and the WNY Search and Rescue Team were smiling, cheerful and happy to have found us, probably not quite as happy as we were to be found. They plied us with water and candy bars, checked to see that we had no broken bones and then carefully following their GPS equipment led us out of the woods. “Out of the Woods,” what a wonderful expression.
You can not imagine the relief, the joy that flooded us as their lights and shouts approached and we realized that we would neither spend the night nor eternity in this spot. I like Allegany a lot but I was not ready to leave my bones there.
Epilogue: Rick Feuz, Bob Schmid, Jay Wopper and some others back at Camp Allegany noticed we didn’t show up for supper. They alerted the Park Police and mounted their own search until they were shooed back to Camp. The Police called in the Search and Rescue Team and notified our families.
I spent the night at the Bradford Hospital where two bags of intravenous Saline, some sleep and a good breakfast revived me. My son Teck and wife Lyn took me back to Camp Alleghany to exchange stories with the crew there, and then they took me home to rest up.
The Historical Society weekend went very well with plenty of eating, drinking songs, a big campfire and our adventure to add a touch of excitement. Everyone had a good time, well, almost everyone.
I hope I have learned the lesson of the ten essentials. In any case, just to be on the safe side, I have taken a note from rock climber friends. Now if I have to leave my car to go into a store, I belay a line off my front bumper and tie the other end around my waist.