Hiker’s Handbook
OUT ALIVE
Finding Life on the Edge of Death In June 2021, Andrew Devers disappeared for nine days after setting out for a dayhike in Washington’s Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest. As told to EMMA VEIDT I couldn’t help but appreciate the beauty of the spot where I If you were anybody else, you would have found your way out. would probably die. The cuts on my knee were getting infected, You’re an idiot. Congratulations. and I didn’t have the energy to move, but I didn’t want to leave, For most of my life, I’ve been hard on myself. I have ADHD, anyway: Salmonberry bushes surrounded the plush, mossy rock so my brain makes less dopamine than it should. Pair that with where I lay, so I ate from a buffet of berries while resting on nachildhood family trauma and lifelong depression, and you get ture’s Tempurpedic. The area had a clear view of the sky where someone who struggles to think positvely. I’ve even delayed I could spot approaching helicopters, if anyone cared enough to proposing to my girlfriend for years because I can’t bear to see search for me. the love of my life marry someone I don’t even like. Three days before, on June 18, 2021, I went on a dayhike along For two more days, I stumbled and slept, stumbled and slept. the Pratt River Trail in Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest. I had I have little recollection of this time except for an endless panever hiked this trail, but I needed fresh views and exercise to clear rade of trees, around which I remained lost. Four days in with no my head. Navigation was difficult, and I passed some landslide exit in sight, I felt forced to reckon with my 25 years on earth. debris without noticing a sign warning that the trail ahead was If you were to die here, were you a good dude? Was your time unmaintained. It was like when you’re driving on the highway, deep worth it? You never did the things that you wanted to do, but at in thought, and accidentally pass your exit. the very least you had good intentions and Ninety minutes later, the trail became always made your friends laugh. overgrown and thorny; I was wearing only My anger eventually dissipated, and my a T-shirt and shorts, so I decided to turn thoughts turned spiritual. It could have “SEVERAL TIMES, around. When I did, though, I found a been the exhaustion, the record-breaking I CRUMPLED completely different landscape from the summer heat, the hunger, or the desperaAND PASSED OUT. one I recalled walking through. Nothing tion to survive. Out of nowhere, I heard IT WAS LIKE looked the same, and I couldn’t determine my girlfriend’s voice say, “here.” To my A VIDEO GAME; which direction to hike. I climbed to highright, there was a trail of salmonberries I DIED AND HAD TO er ground to search for the road I drove in that led to the mossy rock. Recovering in RESPAWN. on, but saw only endless forest. It was just that oasis, I listened for helicopters overEACH TIME I GOT UP, me, alone, getting hungry and cold. head, but the river nearby was so loud that SURVIVAL SEEMED I’d watched enough survival videos to I couldn’t tell the difference between rushLESS LIKELY.” know that I should stay put for the night. ing water and an airborne rescue mission. Leaning against a tree, I tucked my arms If I died at that moment, I would have and legs into my shirt and draped my long been proud for making it this far. I forgave hair over my face as a makeshift mosquito net. I fell asleep angry the version of myself that got lost four days ago. for getting myself into such a terrible situation. I spent two days there, resting and eating berries to regain By the next morning, my terror and rage became more my strength. I didn’t give up, though: I organized dark rocks to visceral. The morning sunlight dappled through the trees, and I spell out SOS, and when a helicopter flew overhead, I threw realized once again—and more acutely this time—that nobody sticks to get the pilot’s attention. Once my energy was restored, was coming to help me. I hadn’t even told anyone where I was I set out in search of a popular trail upstream. It wasn’t long hiking. My survival was entirely in my own hands. before I was completely sapped of energy again: Several times, Fear took over as I stomped through the dense shrubs; I didn’t I crumpled and passed out. It was like a video game; I died and have a plan except to move. My fury reached a breaking point had to respawn. Each time I got up, survival seemed less likely, when I plowed my foot through a dead log and a chunk of wood but I forced myself to continue. I told myself I wanted to see stabbed me right below my kneecap. Now I wasn’t just angry—I the rippling bark of one more tree, hear one more crunchy leaf, was also bleeding and in pain. To make things worse, I thrashed or feel the cool, rushing water of a river one more time. At one through the bushes so aggressively that at some point, my water point, I pulled out the notebook I’d packed and started writing bottle slipped out of my backpack’s mesh compartment. It was my wedding vows. I was going to make it out of this forest and gone. My morale sank, and inner demons took over. finally live the life I had put on hold for years.
50 Backpacker
| SUMMER 2022
