I was recently stuck (though I call it "takin my time leavin") in a desert in Southern California, and have realized this may be a good testimony for dependable flashlights.
We were 'supposed' to leave early morning to my family's property for some light .22 can plinking, hiking, and to just basically get outside since it was a nice day. I wanted to take my SUV 4x4, but my girlfriend suggested taking her low-profile sedan out of wanting to be nice, drive, and for gas mileage. We went back and forth discussing it, but I remembered having gone there with others, in similar low-to-the-ground sedans, and they always seemed OK...so I said yes....:thinking:
I brought a backpack with EDC items, a bail-out-bag (for temporary survival when traveling), a Ruger 10/22, and an HK USP 45c. This, for me, is considered "light" (usually a tent, canopy, blanket, clothes change, and other base-camp type of items are brought as a 'just in case' when traveling to remote areas). I had just my summer/nylon cargo pants, cargo shirt and some boots. All were designed for warm weather. Same with my girlfriend: jeans, light sweater, sneakers. Who's gonna get a cold-chapped nipple in a desert anyway? More on that later...
My mom, young step-brother, and their dog decided to come in a separate SUV, we were going to take the car. We left the house early afternoon, followed each other and got to my property, quite a ways from any highway, home, or sign of human life.
We unpacked the cars. First I loaded a magazine with snake-shot and proceeded quietly around where we'd be setting up and where my younger brother and their dog would be moving around. Everything was clear and the desert was beautiful. There were a few cotton tails jumping around in the distance and birds, and, if you stopped moving/talking, perfect serenity. I broke it asking if my girl wanted a snack and a lucky foot keychain while looking at the cotton tails, her look conveyed if I did, I'd be cleaning my own rifles tonight...:bow:
We were walking around a bit to take in the sights. The moon was perfectly visible very early in the afternoon. We set up cans and targets and had fun with those for a short while.
Some desert bikers and ATVers started coming in at a distance and we decided to just walk around a bit more. Though some of the 'riders' came by us and were very obnoxious (an F' You stare and peeling out dangerously to show us how cool they were), I refrained from telling them to leave my property. I've had to before with some reckless drivers, and it's never pretty (they threaten and get in your face). Police are not going to come out there, if you can even call them, and considering this was a nice day, and nearing evening, I knew they'd leave and to just ignore them for now.:shrug:
My mom, brother, and their dog packed up (well, the dog didn't really contribute, lazy ***) and my girlfriend and I decided to stay. The reckless riders were gone and she wanted to shoot the .22 some more. I was getting tired, and began packing up what little we had out. Sun began to set extremely fast and the cold air picked up, along with sand, some yips from coyote packs in the distance, and the circling crows above us began to feel too ironic. We decided to leave with the remaining sunlight around 5pm.
She drove and we talked about something to eat and a nice shower later, and came upon a fork in the road. It's very interesting how things begin to look different as depth of view is removed and light is gone. The dust was very thick and it was hard to see which road led where. We looked at each other and sort of moaned and knew whatever we chose we were screwed for some reason. We decided on the right, like a ballot, and that's when the fun began.:mecry:
That road kept going and going. But, we got closer and closer to the highway, or so it appeared. The road was extremely narrow, having deep banks on both sides, and we couldn't effectively turn or go in reverse. Then, the coolest thing happened: that comfortable, rocky road turned into extremely soft and deep quickening sand!
The car kept sliding around and we tried to keep it straight (turning increases forward resistance and buries your tires in a second). She hopped out as a guide in the dust and I took the wheel to steer it to solid ground, though we couldn't find any. We got out and deployed our flashlights: my JetBeam III-M, her TNVC-mod Surefire 6PD. We would shovel with our hands and rock it, get loose, go a few feet, repeat.
We used our lights in our hands, mouths, and on the ground, rolling it around in the course sand, being stepped on and kicked by accident. It was pitch black outside with a soft blue hue, and our lights were extremely bright and cutting. It honestly made things feel balanced on our side of the situation. :candle:
Eventually our tires were buried to the top in sand, as well as under-frame. No hand digging was going to help. Standing, we would sink into the sand as well over time and with each step. I finally conceded in and called for help: the same people who left. It was around 7pm as I swallowed my pride and kept trying to get service. I was able to get through, very inaudibly, and whine about being stuck and lost in the desert. We gave basic directions to where we were and they'd be there in 45 minutes.
Anyway, long story made long, I'll continue...
We got out to scout the perimeter of the vehicle and realized our location was very off from what we told them...maybe because we didn't know! We used our flashlights as beacons to nearby traffic, until we conceded it wasn't that near.
I told her that I wanted her to stay in the car and I was going to go to the top of our valley, a short distance, and see our location in relation to a landmark from the place we were at prior with the others. She got scared an wanted to come. I knew leaving a car wasn't a good idea, but I needed to just go up enough to see if they'd even be able to see us, as we were very low on this specific slope.
We broke a light stick on the hood crevice of the car, I took my HK, we had our lights, found a jacket each, and commenced walkin' it to the top of a nearby hill. I wasn't sure if I was afraid of the animals more or the statements about drug cooks and users residing in the outskirts of this desert, but I do remember the Hills Have Eyes situation making me think that the movie will be scarier the next time I watch it. About 400ft up and to the left on foot, the coyotes suddenly sounded a lot closer.
The pack of coyotes unnerved her a bit. I personally don't fear them, I have an extreme dislike toward them. They've attacked a small child once when I was tiny, I remember the horror in the neighborhood at a family's friends place when they ran in crying and people banded together to go find the coyotes, a rural city not far from this desert. They've killed both my aunt's small dogs, by breaking through patio glass and eating them, while they were in their cages and defenseless, leaving just hair and a foot from one. I've watched them devour a mother duck and it's ducklings a couple of years ago at a distance through binoculars, and remember the screams, and I frequently have had to chase individuals and packs off from my small pug, both at home and at camp sites. I really do not like them; they're what a .223 is made for.
We had no idea where we were to relay it in case our phone got service and the cavalry arrived. We turned around to return to the vehicle. The dust in the air was so thick that it was no different than heavy rain in terms of visibility. The wind was quickly getting colder and bursting more frequently and harder.
We were getting wind burn, through our clothes even, and I didn't notice how cold it was until the coyotes sounded right on us. I drew my HK, but my hand was so numb I barely felt its weight and texturing. This is one of those moments that training and familiarity really come to play; with adrenaline, mechanical skills because lost, I never knew pure cold did the same thing.
I circled us with the light and barely caught the coyotes in sight and they would vanish. I looked to see what the backstop was in the event I had to fire at them, I was half-glad that we were in between two steep hills. They got very close and stopped, so I fired once at their feet
while my girlfriend yelled "go away, evil doggies!", and they scattered. We heard them in the distance and then not at all. Cowards. :nana:
We stopped, and looked at our phones. The bars went from half way to No Service every time we'd touch a button. Finally the call came to us, but it died. After a few attempts, they got a hold of us and said they were getting off the freeway and would be there soon. They were halfway here. We continued walking, explained we'd use a strobe (there were lights far in the distance around us, we had to stand out), said our thanks and got off the phone. We looked down and saw our car, two roads below us...what the hell? We made a trail through the hard road and bushes to ours. The car looked un-destroyed by monsters and cannibals from a distance, but it was super dusty.
This is when my heart stopped.
There were cat prints near the car and all the way back over the tire trails, stopping a few feet from the car and then circling, in front. We thought we were delusional, it was too cold for a cat! Wasn't it? I examined them and placement, and with everything you learn in tracking/hunting, it was. Besides the zoo, I've never seen a big cat (anything bigger than what all my ex's had laying around their houses). It was very quiet all around, and the car was still a couple hundred yards away.
I wish I brought my SUV. I wish I had my army shovel, in my SUV. I wish I had a Hi-Lift Jack and chains. I wish I brought my emergency fleece blanket. I wish I got my III-M in warm tint, damn it! Hmm, these batteries were lasting pretty long!
We made it to the car with caution. It was very difficult to open the doors due to the sand height.
We started to hear movement in the bushes, but not 'lil bunnies, birds or other small creatures. Then the sound was sticks and twigs under weight. I turned all around to see and couldn't see anything. I finally caught the tail of a medium-size, furry thing with a tail running really fast to my left about 25 yards out. I circled and found it's tail, still running around. I shot at the ground near the butt and quickly set my light on top of her car in medium strobe mode.
Time went by and there were no more sounds, though we took extreme caution in anything we did. The rescue team was having problems finding us, and we'd make small adjustments in the angle of the strobe.
Their headlights came up over the hill in front of us and they found us after a couple of hours.
My mom's husband broke out a rope and shovels. We cleared the sand and tied the rope. We pulled the car at an angle carefully across a road, it worked somewhat, the rope snapped. He took out a recovery strap and began tying it, I jumped out with my Gerber LMF-II and whacked some tall, hard bushes and weeds away that were impeding the movement of the car (holding the undercarriage prisoner).
We did a yank and pulled out. We were free and laughed at. It was great. :nana:
We got back to their home and crashed, sandy clothes, chapped right nipple, face, and hands, and room lights on.
She told her closest friends about this situation, a lot of them mid-20's females and they've got the bug now to carry a handy torch for a what-if. I'm going to be sending them a link to the JetBeam III-M.
I'm actually planning to go back next month, but with my SUV and it's accessories!
We were 'supposed' to leave early morning to my family's property for some light .22 can plinking, hiking, and to just basically get outside since it was a nice day. I wanted to take my SUV 4x4, but my girlfriend suggested taking her low-profile sedan out of wanting to be nice, drive, and for gas mileage. We went back and forth discussing it, but I remembered having gone there with others, in similar low-to-the-ground sedans, and they always seemed OK...so I said yes....:thinking:
I brought a backpack with EDC items, a bail-out-bag (for temporary survival when traveling), a Ruger 10/22, and an HK USP 45c. This, for me, is considered "light" (usually a tent, canopy, blanket, clothes change, and other base-camp type of items are brought as a 'just in case' when traveling to remote areas). I had just my summer/nylon cargo pants, cargo shirt and some boots. All were designed for warm weather. Same with my girlfriend: jeans, light sweater, sneakers. Who's gonna get a cold-chapped nipple in a desert anyway? More on that later...
My mom, young step-brother, and their dog decided to come in a separate SUV, we were going to take the car. We left the house early afternoon, followed each other and got to my property, quite a ways from any highway, home, or sign of human life.
We unpacked the cars. First I loaded a magazine with snake-shot and proceeded quietly around where we'd be setting up and where my younger brother and their dog would be moving around. Everything was clear and the desert was beautiful. There were a few cotton tails jumping around in the distance and birds, and, if you stopped moving/talking, perfect serenity. I broke it asking if my girl wanted a snack and a lucky foot keychain while looking at the cotton tails, her look conveyed if I did, I'd be cleaning my own rifles tonight...:bow:
We were walking around a bit to take in the sights. The moon was perfectly visible very early in the afternoon. We set up cans and targets and had fun with those for a short while.
Some desert bikers and ATVers started coming in at a distance and we decided to just walk around a bit more. Though some of the 'riders' came by us and were very obnoxious (an F' You stare and peeling out dangerously to show us how cool they were), I refrained from telling them to leave my property. I've had to before with some reckless drivers, and it's never pretty (they threaten and get in your face). Police are not going to come out there, if you can even call them, and considering this was a nice day, and nearing evening, I knew they'd leave and to just ignore them for now.:shrug:
My mom, brother, and their dog packed up (well, the dog didn't really contribute, lazy ***) and my girlfriend and I decided to stay. The reckless riders were gone and she wanted to shoot the .22 some more. I was getting tired, and began packing up what little we had out. Sun began to set extremely fast and the cold air picked up, along with sand, some yips from coyote packs in the distance, and the circling crows above us began to feel too ironic. We decided to leave with the remaining sunlight around 5pm.
She drove and we talked about something to eat and a nice shower later, and came upon a fork in the road. It's very interesting how things begin to look different as depth of view is removed and light is gone. The dust was very thick and it was hard to see which road led where. We looked at each other and sort of moaned and knew whatever we chose we were screwed for some reason. We decided on the right, like a ballot, and that's when the fun began.:mecry:
That road kept going and going. But, we got closer and closer to the highway, or so it appeared. The road was extremely narrow, having deep banks on both sides, and we couldn't effectively turn or go in reverse. Then, the coolest thing happened: that comfortable, rocky road turned into extremely soft and deep quickening sand!
The car kept sliding around and we tried to keep it straight (turning increases forward resistance and buries your tires in a second). She hopped out as a guide in the dust and I took the wheel to steer it to solid ground, though we couldn't find any. We got out and deployed our flashlights: my JetBeam III-M, her TNVC-mod Surefire 6PD. We would shovel with our hands and rock it, get loose, go a few feet, repeat.
We used our lights in our hands, mouths, and on the ground, rolling it around in the course sand, being stepped on and kicked by accident. It was pitch black outside with a soft blue hue, and our lights were extremely bright and cutting. It honestly made things feel balanced on our side of the situation. :candle:
Eventually our tires were buried to the top in sand, as well as under-frame. No hand digging was going to help. Standing, we would sink into the sand as well over time and with each step. I finally conceded in and called for help: the same people who left. It was around 7pm as I swallowed my pride and kept trying to get service. I was able to get through, very inaudibly, and whine about being stuck and lost in the desert. We gave basic directions to where we were and they'd be there in 45 minutes.
Anyway, long story made long, I'll continue...
We got out to scout the perimeter of the vehicle and realized our location was very off from what we told them...maybe because we didn't know! We used our flashlights as beacons to nearby traffic, until we conceded it wasn't that near.
I told her that I wanted her to stay in the car and I was going to go to the top of our valley, a short distance, and see our location in relation to a landmark from the place we were at prior with the others. She got scared an wanted to come. I knew leaving a car wasn't a good idea, but I needed to just go up enough to see if they'd even be able to see us, as we were very low on this specific slope.
We broke a light stick on the hood crevice of the car, I took my HK, we had our lights, found a jacket each, and commenced walkin' it to the top of a nearby hill. I wasn't sure if I was afraid of the animals more or the statements about drug cooks and users residing in the outskirts of this desert, but I do remember the Hills Have Eyes situation making me think that the movie will be scarier the next time I watch it. About 400ft up and to the left on foot, the coyotes suddenly sounded a lot closer.
The pack of coyotes unnerved her a bit. I personally don't fear them, I have an extreme dislike toward them. They've attacked a small child once when I was tiny, I remember the horror in the neighborhood at a family's friends place when they ran in crying and people banded together to go find the coyotes, a rural city not far from this desert. They've killed both my aunt's small dogs, by breaking through patio glass and eating them, while they were in their cages and defenseless, leaving just hair and a foot from one. I've watched them devour a mother duck and it's ducklings a couple of years ago at a distance through binoculars, and remember the screams, and I frequently have had to chase individuals and packs off from my small pug, both at home and at camp sites. I really do not like them; they're what a .223 is made for.
We had no idea where we were to relay it in case our phone got service and the cavalry arrived. We turned around to return to the vehicle. The dust in the air was so thick that it was no different than heavy rain in terms of visibility. The wind was quickly getting colder and bursting more frequently and harder.
We were getting wind burn, through our clothes even, and I didn't notice how cold it was until the coyotes sounded right on us. I drew my HK, but my hand was so numb I barely felt its weight and texturing. This is one of those moments that training and familiarity really come to play; with adrenaline, mechanical skills because lost, I never knew pure cold did the same thing.
I circled us with the light and barely caught the coyotes in sight and they would vanish. I looked to see what the backstop was in the event I had to fire at them, I was half-glad that we were in between two steep hills. They got very close and stopped, so I fired once at their feet
while my girlfriend yelled "go away, evil doggies!", and they scattered. We heard them in the distance and then not at all. Cowards. :nana:We stopped, and looked at our phones. The bars went from half way to No Service every time we'd touch a button. Finally the call came to us, but it died. After a few attempts, they got a hold of us and said they were getting off the freeway and would be there soon. They were halfway here. We continued walking, explained we'd use a strobe (there were lights far in the distance around us, we had to stand out), said our thanks and got off the phone. We looked down and saw our car, two roads below us...what the hell? We made a trail through the hard road and bushes to ours. The car looked un-destroyed by monsters and cannibals from a distance, but it was super dusty.
This is when my heart stopped.
There were cat prints near the car and all the way back over the tire trails, stopping a few feet from the car and then circling, in front. We thought we were delusional, it was too cold for a cat! Wasn't it? I examined them and placement, and with everything you learn in tracking/hunting, it was. Besides the zoo, I've never seen a big cat (anything bigger than what all my ex's had laying around their houses). It was very quiet all around, and the car was still a couple hundred yards away.
I wish I brought my SUV. I wish I had my army shovel, in my SUV. I wish I had a Hi-Lift Jack and chains. I wish I brought my emergency fleece blanket. I wish I got my III-M in warm tint, damn it! Hmm, these batteries were lasting pretty long!
We made it to the car with caution. It was very difficult to open the doors due to the sand height.
We started to hear movement in the bushes, but not 'lil bunnies, birds or other small creatures. Then the sound was sticks and twigs under weight. I turned all around to see and couldn't see anything. I finally caught the tail of a medium-size, furry thing with a tail running really fast to my left about 25 yards out. I circled and found it's tail, still running around. I shot at the ground near the butt
and quickly set my light on top of her car in medium strobe mode.Time went by and there were no more sounds, though we took extreme caution in anything we did. The rescue team was having problems finding us, and we'd make small adjustments in the angle of the strobe.
Their headlights came up over the hill in front of us and they found us after a couple of hours.
My mom's husband broke out a rope and shovels. We cleared the sand and tied the rope. We pulled the car at an angle carefully across a road, it worked somewhat, the rope snapped. He took out a recovery strap and began tying it, I jumped out with my Gerber LMF-II and whacked some tall, hard bushes and weeds away that were impeding the movement of the car (holding the undercarriage prisoner).
We did a yank and pulled out. We were free and laughed at. It was great. :nana:
We got back to their home and crashed, sandy clothes, chapped right nipple, face, and hands, and room lights on.
She told her closest friends about this situation, a lot of them mid-20's females and they've got the bug now to carry a handy torch for a what-if. I'm going to be sending them a link to the JetBeam III-M.
I'm actually planning to go back next month, but with my SUV and it's accessories!
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