[pct-l] Lightening on the PCT

[jjolson at uwyo.edu (Jeffrey J. Olson)]

In 1971 I hiked part of the John Muir Trail.  I was 19.  I crumbled two 
packs o cigarettes my first night - realizing that lucky strikes are not 
conducive to big elevation changes.  That was next a little creek before 
trail camp on Whitney. 

The next day I met a guy from Berkeley High School who was hiking the 
trail and we started hiking together.  Coming up to Tyndall Creek  the 
sky got darker and darker.  The wind was picking up, gusting to 40 mph.  
We were right at timberline and could see lightening striking off in the 
direction of Forester Pass.  It was an eerie feeling, being exposed, the 
wind, the almost constant thunder that got louder and louder as we walked. 

Just beyond timberline we were h iking about 20' apart when a lightening 
bolt hit a flat rock about 40' in front of me.  It was the most amazing 
experience of my young life.  The thunder was instantaneous and so loud 
that I couldn't hear anything - nothing.  The whole world was an absence 
of sound because it was so loud. 

I was wearing an old camptrails expedition pack, aluminum frame and big 
red sack, and my thumbs were hooked under the shoulder straps.  I could 
feel electricity course through the frame, not in a shocking kind of 
way, but more like the flow of electricity was so big for that half 
second that the aluminum just radiated it.  I'd never felt the kind of 
nerve shredding panic that I felt in that moment.  The rock where the 
lightening hit was smoking.  I glanced back at the fellow I was hiking 
with and his eyes were wide open and hair standing on end.  I whimpered 
and began to run up the trail, mindlessly for a couple moments, and then 
with a purpose to get out of raw exposure. 

100' up the trail was a tall rock, 12' or so, and I threw myself under 
it as did my new friend.  We huddled against the rock as lightening 
continued to strike, not so close, but close enough to make my bowels 
loosen.  This went on for three or four minutes before the storm center 
moved south and the thunder grew less intense. 

A sound emerged, a kind of soft wailing that was totally eerie and 
weird.  My friend and I looked at each other and asked what that was.  I 
got up and walked around to the other side of the rock and two men and a 
woman were on their knees, eyes closed, hands in prayer positiion in 
front of them, tears coursing down their cheeks, praying to God to 
survive the storm.  They didn't even see us.  WE walked back to our 
packs, put them on and walked away from them.  The sky began to open up 
we almost skipped down the trail, higher than kites with having survived 
and a clean, bright beautiful day revealing itself. 

Jeff Olson
Laramie WY