FOOT PRINTS IN THE SNOW

She was an experienced hiker. She knew that the tracks ahead meant someone was in trouble. But she had no idea they would lead to a rescue mission that has become legendary.

- Ty Gagne

Pam Bales stepped onto the snowcovered Jewell Trail. She planned a six-hour loop hike through New Hampshire’s Mount Washington State Park. She had packed for almost every contingency and intended to walk alone.

A piece of paper on the dashboard of her SUV detailed her itinerary: start up Jewell Trail, traverse the ridge south along Gulfside Trail, summit Mount Washington, follow Crawford Path down to Lakes of the Clouds Hut, descend Ammonoosuc Ravine Trail, and return to her car before some forecasted bad weather arrived. Pam always left her hiking plans in her car, as well as copies with two fellow volunteers on the Pemigewasset Valley Search and Rescue Team.

It was just before 8am, October 17, 2010. She’d checked the higher summits forecast posted by the Mount Washington Observatory before she left:

In the clouds w/a slight chance of showers. Highs: upper 20s; windchills 0–10. Winds: NW 50–70 mph increasing to 60–80 w/higher gusts.

Based on her experience, Pam knew her hike was realistic. Besides, she had two contingency plans and extra layers of clothing to regulate her core temperature as conditions changed; the observatory had described conditions on the higher summits as “full-on winter.”

Pam felt excited as she walked up into snowy paths. At 8:30am, still below the tree line, she took the first in a series of on-the-trail selfies; she was wearing a fleece vest and hiking trousers, and no gloves or hat because the air was mild. The sun shone through the trees and cast a shadow over her smiling face.