Surviving the Wilderness, Lessons 1 thru 3

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Ok, so today, my family and I went on a Father's Day trip to the Snowy Mountains, a range of eternally whitecapped mountains that exist to the west of Laramie, towards the small town of Centennial. We went up to a trail that followed the North Fork of the Little Laramie River. It was drizzling when we got there, but it was mostly a sunshower, so we didn't really think much of it. We hiked the trail for about 2 miles; however, soon my asthma started acting up on account of the combined high altitude, chilly air, recent showers, exertion, and being out in the allergen-infested wilderness. Since I lost the one inhaler I brought with me to Wyoming, and since I haven't yet gotten around to getting refills, I was pretty much out of luck. I managed to stick it out until about 1.5 miles down the trail, at which point I decided to turn back and wait for my parents at the trailhead. So I left my group and continued back at a somewhat lesiurely pace... that is, until the storm came. Which brings me to lesson 1 on Surviving the Wilderness:

1. Weather changes quickly in the mountains.

At first it started to drizzle a little. I had a sweater jacket that was tied around my waist, so I simply put that on for the time being. Then I heard the thunder. Knowing that lightning strikes were much more common at high altitude, and knowing that I was surrounded by towering trees, with a metal hiking pole that made an all too effective lightning rod, I decided it was time to book it. And book it I did: all the way to the trailhead at a pace that fluctuated between power-walking and flat-out sprinting. When I finally made it to the truck, I decided to implement lesson 2:

2: When caught outside in a thunderstorm, seek shelter at all costs.

One small problem existed, however. Dad had locked the truck before we left on the trail, and had kept the keys with him when we had separated. All of the survival equipment was inside: knives, matches, cooler filled with sandwiches and drinks, and my iPod. What was worse, it was starting to rain heavily, and I couldn't access the inside of the truck. Since there was really no other option, I kicked into survival mode and found shelter in the only place viable - by crawling underneath the truck, which had just enough of a ride height to accomodate a fairly slender adult.

So I lay there, underneath a Toyota Tacoma at a deserted trailhead in the middle of the mountains in a thunderstorm, waiting for my parents to return from the trail. I figured that it wouldn't take them any more than an hour, considering they turned back at the first thunderclap and booked it through the rain. And just as the storm passed and the sun peeked out, I heard my dad yelling for me as they returned. And let me tell you, all three of them - mom, dad, and sis - were SOAKED. I was a little wet from the rain, but for the most part hiding underneath the truck helped to keep me somewhat dry, whereas everyone else looked like drowned rats. Which brings me to lesson 3:

3: ALWAYS COME PREPARED FOR THE WORST CASE SCENARIO!


PS: If you have a cool wilderness story, please share it here!

Sorry, my computer f**ked up and I ended up double-posting this thread, can an admin delete this one?