Stuck Overnight on Donner Summit - A Cautionary Tale

Stuck Overnight on Donner Summit!

I’ve never been stuck for more than a couple hours before, and I’ve never required help to get myself out. So spending the night in my truck was a humbling and educational experience, which I’d like to share with you so you can learn from my mistakes….

I’d twisted my foot bad earlier that day, so early Saturday evening found me in my PJ’s lounging in a recliner with my foot wrapped in ice, about to crack open a beer. My phone alerted me to a text from “Bob” (names have been changed because I think he’s the kind of guy who will sue me for hurting his fee-fees) saying he was stuck in snow at Yuba Gap and needed a tug. I almost ignored it, but we’ve been out together a couple times, and when he said “we,” I assumed that meant his wife and child, too, so I replied.



On asking if he was ok, he replied that they were walking out and it was getting cold. Which set off alarm bells, because that’s how a lot of disaster stories start out. N00bs separating from their car and getting lost trying to take a shortcut. It appeared he had not reached out to anyone else for help or I was the only one who had responded. Bob did drop a pin, so at least I was fairly confident on his location.

First lesson: get detailed information BEFORE you leave.

First I posted to one of the local Facebook recovery groups about my intent to head up and scope out the situation, giving an ETA, but also indicated I would probably need more help. My wife hates social media, so I loaded the page for her on my PC and showed her how to monitor it for me so I could concentrate on the recovery. Then I made a thermos of hot tea for Bob and his family, threw a couple more shovels in my truck and was out the door. My truck is my bug-out bag, so I’m pretty much always ready for the conditions.



I rolled into Yuba Gap right about dark, 6:00pm, and found Bob and his friend “Jake” at a road junction, with his wife and child in a passenger car. I immediately asked them to get in my truck to warm up and have a cup of hot tea as we discussed the situation, but I guess they weren’t actually THAT cold, because they declined.

This is when I found out there were two stuck vehicles: Bob’s 5th Gen 4runner up front, and Jake’s Tacoma right behind him. So I asked the right questions, but wasn’t skeptical enough, or Bob didn’t understand just how bad the road was.

“What is the road like? Were you snowplowing at all? Is it frozen ruts in soft snow? Or is it a slushy mess? Did you see anyone else? Is there a good spot to turn around?”

That last is most important, because often you can travel the road just fine, but get stuck trying to turn around when you have to bump up out of the ruts and into slush.

In hindsight, I think he was able to get in as far as he could because he’s an early riser, so was probably on the trail by 8am, when it was still frozen. He got stuck about 1.5 miles in, spent most of the day trying to get out, then walked out and called me. I think. I don’t know how long he was out there.

He assured me the ruts were frozen solid and he had no problems before he got stuck. Our vehicles are modded about the same, so I figured I would at least take a look. We drove another mile down the pavement to the trailhead and headed up the snow-covered dirt road. It wasn’t the kind of snowy road I would normally use. I am very cautious around snow, because I know our rigs just aren’t built for the deep stuff. But wanting to help him overruled my better judgment, so I went for it.

Second lesson: trust your instincts and experience. Avoid deep snow. This kind of road can be fun, but also a bad day:



The trail began with a small hill, which I went up with only a little tire spinning, then leveled out. I was using ATRAC in 4Lo. Then I got stuck, but by rocking back and forwards again I was able to get out and make it another quarter mile, only to get stuck bad. At this point I realized I had forgotten to air down, lol, so aired down to 15-18 PSI.

(3) Air down to 10psi in snow, BEFORE you get stuck. You can go even lower in smooth, snowy conditions like I was in, but I was in a hurry and didn’t want to lose a bead, plus my own ignorance. On bumpy roads you do have to be more careful, because hitting boulders can knock the bead loose. To go down to such low levels, you need a quality air gauge which can measure those PSI accurately. Get several and scatter them around your truck so you can always find one. Fortunately, I did it.

We got going again that easily, but got stuck a final time maybe another quarter mile from there. This time I tried all the 4Runner tricks in different combinations: craw control, rear locker, ATRAC, all without any joy. Ruh roh.

Phone service was spotty and my phone is cheap and really slow, a bad combination, so I could text, but not call. Facebook would not fully load, so it took real effort and walking to find a spot where I could use it to update the FB recovery page. The page showed little interest in coming to help us, lol, which is very unusual, to the point where another user asked, “Isn’t anyone going to help them?”

(4) Good technology is as important as a good shovel!

So I handed out the shovels and we started clearing away around my tires. And then underneath the skid plates, because I had been snowplowing and was high centered. The mood was still fine, we had a job to do and were going to get er’ done! I had a 6 pack and brought 420 to tip the recovery crews, but was too busy to crack one open, so we dug.

And then a Jeep Cherokee on 35’s showed up, hooray! I thought the driver, Cody, was one of Bob’s friends, but it turns out he had seen the recovery page posts and came up from his home in Foresthill to help. Cody was the MAN! He got out his own shovel and showed Bob/Jake how to correctly use a shovel: like you mean it! Dude was a fricken sapper, a snow badger, moving snow! He could actually dig AND talk at the same time! When he mentioned his hands were cold, I noticed he didn’t have a pair of gloves, so gifted him a pair of wool fingerless gloves as thanks for coming up. I also offered him a couple ounces of 420, but he was into dabs, so declined.

(LOL, youth today. He had a propane torch with him, and I’m so Old School I thought it was to melt ice around the truck’s suspension.)



At this point I should mention I had a heart attack 8 years ago, while playing airsoft on a frozen morning in the snow. It’s called “snow shovel syndrome,” and something I need to be extra careful about avoiding. So I was taking it easy on the shovel, but still clearing a lot of snow. When I went to check on Bob/Jake’ work, I couldn’t even tell where they had been digging. Nuts.

They had both mentioned they were getting wet and cold, so I pulled out snow pants, gaitors, gloves, thermal underwear, hats, etc., and tried to hand them to them, but both refused.

(5) Bring extra warm clothing for others, and insist they wear it. If your helpers are cold and wet, they will be less effective at shoveling.

So Cody connected his front bumper to my rear bumper with a strap and yanked me out and back onto the hard-packed tire track again. From there he pulled me backwards about a half mile, both of us in reverse, trying to maintain enough speed to not bog down but also having to remain on the packed down wheel ruts. It was working pretty good, Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, but then I screwed up and got off the main track again, bogging down in the deep stuff. This time, nothing we tried could get me out, and we had to stop when a final tug ripped the bumper off of Cody’s jeep.

We found the top of his power steering fluid reservoir in the middle of the road, too, oops. I was just thankful his bumper hadn’t come through my window.

At some point during this f**keree, Jake called his wife and found out she had called Search and Rescue to help us! “Oh sh*t!” was the immediate response, as I started calculating how much that would cost us in fees. Three trucks, requiring a snow cat and a large team would be maybe $10K? Certainly THOUSANDS of dollars. Cody immediately called the backdoor number to Placer County Dispatch and told them we did not require help, which Jake also had to confirm with them.

We dug some more, tried to get out on my own, looked at other connection points on Cody’s Jeep, and I was losing confidence in Cody’s ability to get us out. He turned his Jeep around to hook onto his rear bumper, but he almost got stuck bad himself in the process. So I offered it up: “You guys go home for the night and get more help. It’s Presidents’ Weekend, so there will be a lot of Jeepers in the hills tomorrow and we should be able to get help. I’ll stay here and guard our vehicles.” I assured them this is what I do for fun.

Bob had nervously asked a couple times about mountain lions, and then about some reflective spots off in the woods. I laughed and pointed out that when you’re in the woods, there’s always some kind of animal watching you, no big deal. They were looking at a half mile walk out in the dark. It really wasn’t that dark, actually, what with the snow and no clouds. I forgot about the need for flashlights even, until Bob asked if I had one he could borrow. I gave him my best light, he flipped it on and commented on how bright it was, then tried to find whatever was watching us. (Later on I figured out it was the lights of the Christian Camp, across the lake.)

I gave Cody a token $20, apologizing about his bumper and told him to keep the gloves. Cody gave me his daughter’s half-eaten lunch (that juicebox was the bomb!) then they piled into the Cherokee and drove away. That feeling when you’re alone in the forest at night, watching civilization drive away is unique, and yet I felt a sense of relief. “Sweet, now I can get in my sleeping bag and relax. I am NOT having a heart attack doing this!” I have a first responder friend in the area who specializes in body recovery, and he once made me promise he would not have to pull my dead body out of the woods.

I pulled out my chair, cracked open a pale ale, and sat down to watch the stars for a while before bed. But I couldn’t relax, I was still amped from the effort, and the beer wasn’t going down at all. I tried to drink some water, but discovered I had a painfully-sore throat, so had to force it down. Nor was I hungry, despite skipping dinner. I did have a couple granola bars and even a MRE, but meh.

So I dug some more. The snow was still slushy, but I knew it would freeze overnight and really grip my tires tight. I removed snow from all around the tires, leaving them completely exposed, and smoothed out ramps out of the hole. I finally cleared all the snow out from under my skids, which does require a long-handled shovel. I tried to get out again, but still no luck, so then spent more time removing the snow created by that attempt. My hope was that the snow would freeze solid overnight and I could get up early and drive out.

And then I heard voices and saw a flash of light, apparently off towards the boat ramp on nearby Lake Valley Reservoir. I figured some Jeepers were camping there and might be able to help me in the morning. So I left an update on the FB page, “I’m walking to the boat ramp to see if people are there. I will stay on the road and not take any shortcuts.” The lake was really close to my position, but a snowbridge crossing of a creek and deep tree wells were serious hazards. You get stuck in some of those holes and getting out again is a real problem, plus people don’t know where you are.

(6) Stay on the main roads, do not leave your vehicle!

So I walked back down the road, despite starting to feel tired. And just before the turnoff to the boat ramp, I discovered the Cherokee stuck in the snow. It turns out the voices I’d heard were those of Bob/Jake/Cody, echoing through the trees. I checked my phone and found confirmation they had to walk out. So I guess they met Bob’s wife at pavement, and she had to drive Cody home to Foresthill first, and then the rest of them back to Citrus Heights or whatever city hellscape they live in.

I continued on a couple hundred yards to the boat ramp and down it to the frozen lake. The ice was thick, with vehicle tracks on it even, so I walked out a bit onto the middle of the lake. And what a glorious place to be! A bajillion stars overhead (but I still couldn’t see the comet), and then I saw a string of Starlink satellites pass by, a first for me. It wasn’t totally quiet, though, as the Christian camp across the lake had all its lights on with music playing. I briefly thought about how snug they were, all the comforts, as we’d been out struggling in the snow for hours. And yet I wouldn’t have traded it. I have a friend with a buggy in Emigrant Gap who would’ve come to get me, but I didn’t call him because I like snow camping. About this time I realized I hadn’t been cold at all, and was still dry despite “playing” in snow all evening. My snow gear is effective.

Stupid me took a shortcut back to my truck, and sure enough found myself balancing on a narrow snow bridge hoping I wasn’t about to fall through into the creek 10’ below. Endorphins are awesome! I was pretty tired by now, but I’ve spent a lifetime pushing my body, so meh.

Back at my truck I made up my bed, opened the window next to me (to prevent ice building up inside, plus I wanted to see the stars), and turned in for the night. I fell asleep quickly and slept well, on a 4” Tempur-pedic mattress, winter sleeping bag, two down pillows and a pile of blankets. I love sleeping in my truck.



Something was licking my truck in the middle of the night, but I just smiled and turned over. I’ve had this happen a couple times before, lol. I think they’re licking off the road salts.

I woke up with the sun, optimistic and ready to go. Loaded all my gear back into my truck so I wouldn’t have to stop and risk bogging down, and then tried to get out of the hole. Nope, still spinning tires. I have mud & snow tires, but the tread is getting worn, and yeah, our trucks suck in deep snow.

I tried to eat a granola bar, but it just wasn’t going down, so drank some water and called it good. My sore throat was worse.

(7) Keep eating and drinking during the experience. You need the energy!

It was about 7am now, so I checked my messages and discovered an early-rising friend had seen my posts and was organizing help while my lazy ass was still in bed. He personally called 3 or 4 people with built rigs, told them that I was a good guy, and asked them to help. To which they agreed, because they are insane mofo’s with very capable rigs who do this kind of thing for fun.

So I grabbed a shovel and started walking out to meet them at the road junction. I had dropped a pin at my location, but it can really speed things up during an emergency if you have someone at each road junction point the way for rescuers. This is standard practice. As it turned out, they were not sure of the way to get to us, until I stood up and waved at them. They were about to go the wrong way.

(8) During an emergency, leave people at key road junctions to point the way. Don't wear camouflage while waiting.

I went just past the stuck Jeep, where I could see the road junction, carved a nice chair in the snow, and waited. I also updated the FB page and texted my wife and one of the incoming rescuers. Communication is key to this kind of recovery. At this time I also discovered my wife had updated the page around midnight to indicate we didn’t need any more help, lol again.



About 9:30 the first rescuers showed up! An admin from the 530 Recovery Group in a sweet Jeep and his buddy in a massive beast of a work truck, fully built and capable, drove up from Sacramento. “Roads? We don’t need no stinkin’ roads!” Maybe 10 minutes later two more rescuers showed up, in a built Tacoma and another Jeep, more of my buddy’s friends. I thanked them all, shook their hands, offered beer, bud, and warm clothing, but they were all good. Rescuers won’t always accept money, but they might like some gear or good drink. A small bottle of Jack Daniels lubricates many situations.

A couple of them were already drinking, so I had a bud light for breakfast as we chatted and discussed the problem at hand.

The problem was that the Cherokee was now blocking the road, and the driver wasn’t here. I was next in line, so if they got the Jeep out, they could at least get me next, and screw the guys who couldn’t even bother to show up. One of the rescuers, Robert, said it’s common for people who are stuck to leave their keys so rescuers can move their vehicle, so we checked. Nope, but it appeared we didn't need a key, as the ignition was AFU. Battery appeared dead, and wouldn’t start even with my power brick. But we got ahold of Cody and he taught us the secret of how to start his Jeep, no key required. But it still wouldn’t start. It was an awesome beast of a work jeep, no ebrake, no key required, a strange blinking red light, and other crap, lol, but I got the job of steering as they pulled it out. I haven’t driven stick in 20 years and was wearing big sorrel boots, but made myself proud. We got the jeep backed up to the boat ramp junction and out of our way, at which point I discovered how to start it. I was giggling at that point, “look at me, driving a Jeep!”

(9) Have different people look at the same problem. Maybe the other guy will try something different that works.

I made another FB update indicating we were getting help, then texted Bob/Jake/Cody to find out their ETA. And got conflicting answers. It was about 10:30 by now, the rescuers were ready to get everyone out, but we needed them there to do so. And their messages indicated they were “in Colfax,” but they were time stamped like two hours previously, so they should’ve been here by now. We all frowned and then had a group laugh together.

(10) If people are coming to rescue you, you should be there long before them. Do not make rescuers wait! They are giving up pretty much the entire day for you, at some expense, so don’t sleep in! Count yourself lucky if you get any sleep the night before. Do not underestimate the severity of the situation. People DO lose their vehicles all winter this way, it is more common than you know. And come spring, they find a crushed mess, as the snow is heavy.



As we waited, we repaired the damage we’d done digging the Cherokee out. This consisted of shoveling all the snow we’d dug out already back onto the road, in the tire tracks, and then packing it down with our feet and one of the capable rigs. Rinse and repeat for another hour at least. The pressure was on me at this point to perform, so I dug like a maniac, despite my concerns about snow shovel syndrome. One of the rescuers was kind of a dick, but he was a knowledgeable dick, so I took my medicine and did what he said.

I knew this was a great opportunity to learn some snow skills, so shut up and tried to help without them asking. If a shackle needed to be attached, I did it, rather than make them get on their knees in the snow. I also took the opportunity to check out all their gear. I saw some stuff that works, and other gear that is too heavy and too expensive.

I lost track of time so am guessing, but a little after noon Bob and Cody finally showed up, Bob with a brown bag in one hand and a cute little come-along in the other. LOL, it reminded me of that video online about the “widdle wadders.” I hope to God he wasn’t late because he had to stop at Wally Mart to buy it. I do have a come-along in my truck, but have only used it to move my truck sideways on hard-packed, but slippery mud. I don’t think it would work at pulling a 5,000 pound truck, buried to the frame, out of a snow trap. I still was in good spirits, so didn’t even mock him, as I might have under other circumstances, lol.

But then I realized that Jake, the Tacoma driver, wasn’t there. WTF?

Yes, they drove all the way to the trailhead before he realized he had forgotten his keys. I’m speechless, a rare thing, so I go back to digging and maybe my greeting to Bob wasn’t as friendly as before. Time to avoid him so I don’t say something offensive.

I start walking back to my truck instead of waiting for a ride, because I want to check for gear anyone may have lost the previous night, recovering a hoodie I used to mark a possible turn around spot. I also chased off a raven before it stole my fanny pack. They really are clever birds.

Upon reaching my truck, I aired down to 9-10 PSI on all my tires. The crew showed up shortly after, and we all got to work shoveling and packing snow. I loaned my shovels to Bob and Jake, and was satisfied to hear the admin admonish them to “get shoveling if you want to drive a 5th gen out of here!” At the admin’s insistence, I also engaged my rear locker. They could tell it wasn’t engaged at a glance, so I yielded to their experience.

We were making good progress, but then some side-by-sides came up the road behind us, couldn’t get by, so had to turn around. And in the process of doing so, their big scoop tires dug out the hours’ worth of work we’d just done. We all laughed and I apologized to them, too, for blocking the trail.

More packing snow, then the Jeep tried to tug me out with a kinetic strap, but that didn’t work, but the Jeep’s winch did, pulling me back up onto the packed tire tracks. They could have continued to pull me backwards all the way, but we decided to just move me out of the way so they could get on to Bob and Jake’s trucks. Accordingly I buried my truck nose first into the snow on the side of road, snow over my hood, trusting they could winch me out again. It was fun doing so.

The admin and his monster truck friend, with Bob and Jake inside, continued on up the trail to get their rigs.

The other two rescuers and myself stood there for a while, cracked open another beer, and chatted about life and truck stuff. My second beer wasn’t going down too well, and I realized I was close to exhaustion. Not my first rodeo, and I know being unable to eat despite hunger is one of my personal signs. I didn’t know if we were waiting for the other two trucks to be pulled out, or to see if their help was needed, and didn’t want to be a dick, so just chilled with them, maybe 20 minutes. All I could think of at this point was a hot bath at home.

And then they were ready to go do some snow wheeling, a couple freeway exits up on the Fordyce Trail. (For those who don’t know, Fordyce is MUCH more difficult than the Rubicon.) They invited me along, saying “You ARE good people! You’re one of us, you have to come with us!” They told me I got street cred for staying the night, lol. How could I refuse such a nice invitation?

It also helped when I got in my truck and pulled an epic J-turn to get out, spinning my truck 180 degrees in place to turn around in the minimum space required. I practice that move in parking lots, and it left them open-jawed, “holy sh*t!” kind of moment.

(11) Develop skillz by practicing in town on frozen parking lots.

We all drove out to the pavement, where we found a circus of flat-lander families sledding and playing in the snow. Instead of asking them to move so we could get by, we did some more sweet snow wheeling around them, then watched another Tacoma drive into a hole. My new friends yanked him out and invited them to come with us to Fordyce, so they did.

We went down Fordyce as far as the trailhead, where I parked and hopped into my friend’s built Taco, because things were getting sketchy again. Weather was fantastic, shirt sleeves, so I made the mistake of leaving most of my gear in my truck. Later I would finally feel a little chill for the first time, and regret it. Three more hours of shenanigans ensued, featuring other stuck trucks we pulled out and a jeep who’s front axle was being replaced. We loaned them some tools and continue on down the hill that busted their axle. My new friends were fearless, in built rigs, so this was an amazing look at what they could do! But as is usual on this kind of trip, things started breaking. First the lead jeep’s winch, and since his jeep was hanging off of it, we couldn’t get enough slack in the tree strap to free it. So I gave Jeeper my tow strap, knowing he would put it to good use, and he cut his old one. It sounded like a rifle shot when he cut it, stand well clear! I also gave them my pale ales, because I still had no appetite. Definitely feeling tired by this point, but trying to help.

Then the lead Jeep lost both lockers, and couldn’t repair the problem. We called it a day and fought our way back up the axle-breaking hill. The trail was so off-camber that the jeep leaned sideways into a tree and ripped off his hi-lift, but we made it back to the Fordyce Trailhead, recovering their tools along the way. I was done, completed wasted by that point, but still helped air us all back up. Then one of their dogs got lost, but we found it chilling in the backseat of someone else’s truck. I thanked them again, offered them bud and cash again, and they declined.

So I started up my truck and immediately dug myself in, stuck in the fricken parking lot. Facepalm. Despite my sick J-turn, I was reminded once again that our trucks suck in deep snow. It probably didn’t help that I had aired up before reaching pavement. The Jeeper used the tow strap I had just given him to yank me out, we lol'd, and then convoyed back to I80.

I stopped at Nyack to buy a soda, because I was so depleted that some liquid sugar might help. Couldn’t drink more than a couple swallows. Got home about 45 minutes later, feeling in a fog, tried to take a bath, but it didn’t help. Tried to eat, but only managed some of my homemade elderberry juice. Too tired to even update the FB recovery page that we were out, I went to bed before 8. And then spent the rest of the night waking up every two hours to throw up violently, fully uncontrolled spewing, finally falling asleep about 4am. FML.

I don’t know if it was Covid (because of the sore throat going into this), another heart attack, or just exhaustion, but I’ve spent the week recovering. I didn’t eat or crap for three days, restless nights, pretty much the same symptoms as when I did have the heart attack. My first full meal, my first beer, was yesterday. I still haven’t smoked, because I want to help my lungs through this. I texted Bob a warning I may have Covid, and he responded with something like, “I know you couldn’t help us, but thanks for coming up.” I also asked if he had my flashlight, because it was a good tool, not a cheap $30 Chinese-made piece of crap.

Part II – No Good Deeds…

What ensued was nearly a week of f*ckery, that has left everyone I tell this story shaking their head.

I didn’t want to piss him off, so I kept trying to get my light back as gently as possible, hoping he would offer to replace it for me. He responded with B.S. like “you can’t prove I lost it, how do you know it isn’t in your truck?” So sick as I was, I went out in the storm and unloaded my entire truck. Also, "Call Cody, it might be in his Jeep," and “What kind of light was it? I’ll see if I can’t find something comparable.” I guess he was hoping to replace my light with some Dollar Store knockoff. Cody quickly returned my call and said he never had it, nor was it in his Jeep.

I tried not to engage like I really wanted to, I didn’t want to argue and was truly aghast at his refusal. But finally I asked him straight up to Venmo me $60. And he refused, with anger, telling me to “calm down.” That’s about the point I did ask him, “How were you raised, that you borrow someone’s tool, lose it, and then refuse to replace it? I was raised to always return a tool better than when I found it.” He took that as me insulting his parents and upbringing, lol. He texted other gems, but I was done, so ignored him and texted his wife a brief message apologizing for my awkward request that she talk to her husband.

I explained it cost me a tow strap, a pair of gloves, a shovel (my bad, I was rolling too fast to stop and pick it up on the way out), $20, and “hopefully not my favorite flashlight.” I should’ve added in the half tank of gas, too. I didn’t explain just how much a professional recovery would have cost.

I also asked Bob if he tipped any of the rescuers. He replied that he gave some of “his friend’s liquor to one of them” but I’m not sure I even believe that, as I had already offered them beer and bud but both refused, citing they don’t drink or smoke. Just good LDS country boys bailing out us sinners. And I am not knocking sobriety; it is a good thing.

(12) Be prepared to tip your rescuers, with a variety of substances, gear, or cash. The same guy who refuses cash might love a new pair of gloves or a small bottle of Jack Daniels. Maybe Bob had something for the rescuers in that brown bag of his, but I don’t know, because he never offered anything to me.

The dude was completely unprepared, limited recovery gear, not enough warm clothing, no extra food and water, not even a fricken flashlight. He made a really bad decision to go down a road right at his vehicle’s limits, before incoming storms, without any idea of where he was going or if there would be a spot to turn around. WTF, “let’s just send it up this snowy road until we get stuck, yahoo!” I saved him thousands of dollars in fees, and he replies with “I know you couldn’t help, but thanks anyway” kind of message?! And then he argues that I can’t prove he lost my flashlight, “Maybe I gave it back and you forgot.”

And still I try to give him credit, assuming that nobody could be that big of a D, and he clearly doesn’t realize that my network of friends is what got us out. Some people don’t think about things like that much, in favor of denial and entitlement.

Good news is that I forgot about my busted foot, and it did fine. And that my cold weather gear is great; I was never cold or wet the entire time.

So that is my cautionary tale of woe and unappreciated help. I will continue to help people who are stuck, but pretty sure I will never go down a snowy road like that ever again. Trust your instincts.

And Bob? Despite you texting me, "You and I are done!" you're still welcome in this part of the woods, but don't count on cheap help the next time you get in trouble.

 

That's quite a story. Thank you for sharing it, and for being a decent human and helping a "friend." One thing about situations like you described: you find out who is who. As Epictetus said, "The true man is revealed in difficult times."

Glad you are safe. I hope you get your flashlight back.

 

Great write up. Thanks for sharing

Was this photo from your events or just one you found? That thing is deep!

 

That's from a couple years back at the eastern entrance to the Rubicon, just out of Tahoe. Apparently the vehicle held up pretty well considering. https://www.drivingline.com/article...-recovery-of-2-snowbound-rigs-on-the-rubicon/

 

Gnarly.

 

Great read - thanks for sharing. Glad everyone got out safely and I hope you get your flashlight back!

 

So much good information in that post. Glad you got out safely and with your truck intact. And I sincerely hope you recover quickly from whatever you had that made you sick.

Best regards.

 

Awesome tail of winter fun. Glad everyone made it out. Some folks are what they are...

 

You are a good man. Next time Bob gets his ass stuck in the woods, I say he figures it out himself. In the dark because your flashlight has dead batteries.

 

Thanks for the detailed story. Glad you're ok now. I don't know your age, but your symptoms coming out of this sound like you were in the danger zone.

 

A lot of reminders from past experience, as well as additional tips. A good write up, and a good refresher! We do get complacent, a bit cocky, and forget the basics some time!

 

That is a great story, thanks for taking the time to share. It was a long read, but entertaining and worth it.

Definitely a lot of good information in there and lessons learned.

My thoughts on it, after reading past the part where they both were off of the trail and safe, my instinct would have been to come back the next day with a crew to retrieve the vehicles. Since you said his vehicle was the equivalent of yours, my thought process would be that if he got stuck I'll get stuck. And like you said, these are not the hot setup for deep snow.

I actually watched a video a few hours before reading your story, it was a Matt's off-road recovery video, and a very similar situation. The driver got his Tacoma stuck, had to spend the night in the vehicle and it snowed overnight. He was able to get himself to safety, but the volunteer recovery team assisting did not want to risk any more vehicles stuck to get his Tacoma. The recovery team leader ended up getting in touch with Matt, and Matt recovered it with his snow cat.

 

Yes, mistakes were made. And if Search and Rescue get involved, they usually focus ONLY on getting the people out, and the vehicles can wait until spring. And an update: Bob finally paid me $60.01. I guess that extra penny is a secret message to me.

 

Great story and glad you finally got your money back for the flashlight. I bet his wife had a bit to do with that.

 

Great read, I usually don't read very long posts but I couldn't stop reading yours!

When I first read your title, I figured someone was going to have to eat somebody to survive!!LOL

Glad you got paid by Bob, hopefully he has learned to respect help when he gets it!!

 

The Donner Party passed within a half mile of where I was camping. They killed and ate two Indians somewhere in the immediate vicinity, one of those little details we don't discuss in school. So I was definitely thinking about them!

 

I was in high school in the late 70s, and one of my most favorite classes ever, was California history. It was a requirement back then. Alas, I don't think it is even offered today.

 

I guess it was a good thing your appetite was lacking that night because you were ill or Bob wouldn't of been around very long , but you would at least have your flashlight!!!

 

Yeah, I think maybe the wife had a conscience, and might've knocked some sense into good ol' "Bob".

 

Sick adventure. Lots of info in there. I hope you make a full recovery quick!

 

Thank you for sharing your experience. It’s a good reminder of how easily you can get in trouble out in the woods. How your feeling better. What kind of flashlight did you have? It sounds like one that if your going to be out in the forest at night, you should have this flashlight.

 

Great story OP.

Now remember, kids: when it's Donner Party time and you have to dispatch someone for the purpose of sustenance, forget the whole idea of drawing straws to see who gets sacrificed. You make the call. Pick the person who's the biggest burden to the group (usually the whiner, because that’s the person who destroys the positive mental attitudes of the rest), and cancel their ticket without warning. It's the kindest thing to do. If your companions squawk about being left out of the decision, patiently explain the "biggest burden" principle and follow it up with a cold stare at each of them.

 

Great story. Good writeup and tips!
Thanks

 

Thanks for the well wishes. I'm back at about 95%. Still haven't felt like a beer, but that's probably a good thing. It was one of the nicer lights you could buy at Big 5, good lumens and long battery life, plus easy to charge. Just one of those tools you find every once in while which really excels.

 

I am NOT camping with you, lol. A buddy of mine once brought a bottle on a camping trip with a big label, "Chloroform." Pretty funny prank.

 

Glad to hear everyone made it out. Call me a nancy, but this why I have no real urge to go snow wheeling.

 

LOL!

 

I think you accidentally listed Bob's real name there close to the end of the story brah (right above 'Part III')...

 

I've now gone down the you tube rabbit hole of Matt's Off-Road Recovery videos. They are great and pretty educational as well. Definitely cool to see how people get stuck, mistakes they make and how Matt's crew gets them out.

 

I absolutely love his channel. I love seeing the recovery techniques, and videos where he works on his builds & vehicle maintenance are pretty entertaining too. Another channel that you might like is called "Trail Mater" it's a similar recovery service in Moab that uses a purpose-built 1 ton Chevy 4x4 wrecker. He and Matt are friends actually, he's in some of Matt's videos and vice versa. There's like a whole little universe of channels now that revolve around Matt.