Jan 27, 2011

Climbing Maple Mountain: After Kitchen Plane crashed

Marie and I moved into Mapleton the day we were married. We rented our home from Verl O Behrmann, Marie’s father. We were lucky as a young couple to have a home we could move into rather than an apartment. We lived in the basement as the home had been in a fire several years earlier and it had burned part of the floor out that was upstairs. Verl and Lois would often come down and work on the house on the weekend. We lived in the basement for a couple years before being able to move upstairs. During that time I worked for American Television service as a repair technician in the field. Three years after we were married I left American TV and went to work for Signetics a couple of months later. I worked for four years on Swing shift, then four years on day shift and 7 on graveyard.

It was during the time on swing shift when I had decided it was time to climb the beautiful Sierra Bonita mountain peak east of our home. I had wanted to for several years but just never had a chance or the proper motivation I suppose. One year however in the early spring a plane took off from Provo airport with a Dentist, his wife and two daughters traveling south to California. It was foggy up in the lower altitudes and as they headed south they were flying just east of our home near the mountain. The instruments on the plane apparently failed and they missed going over the ridge by just a few feet and crashed into the hill. It killed the family and the pilot instantly and then endangered the lives of several men who were searching for it the next few days. The following Saturday morning I was watching from our back porch as the men climbed up the ridge in search of the plane. It was slow climbing as the snow was quite deep and they had to break a trail as well as climb. I had to go to work that afternoon at Signetics and so I then continued to listen on the radio as I drove into Orem. The clouds had lifted early that afternoon and it was shortly after I left for work that the plane was spotted. The men then started to cross the ravine toward the peak to the south where they had spotted the plane. It wasn’t long after when there was an avalanche and the men were in the middle of it. The rope that they had tied to everyone came free from the last climber who was the son of Collin Allan our neighbor. They have since recounted the experience and how the Lord made it possible for them to quickly find him and another climber who had been swept several yards don the mountain. They didn’t reach the plane that day but others from the military were to the ridge just above the plane where they were able to retrieve the bodies of the pilot and family.  Later after the snow had melted they used helicopters to remove the plane as well from the mountain.

 It was that summer as the snow had pretty well melted that one early July morning I decided it was time for me to hike the mountain,  I left at 5 o’clock in the morning and went up Maple Canyon past Whiting Park to the end of the road where I understood the trail started. I hiked by myself and could see the trail quite well since it had gotten light just as I made it to the actual trail that starts nearly 1/2 mile past the park. It was a beautiful day and the hike was fun. I did notice though that there were often what looked like motorcycle tracks on the trail. I figured that they must be ahead of me or have been in the prior week since they were still not covered by any other tracks except mine. I later found out that it was the Walpole boys that had gone up earlier that week and had then gone down the face of the mountains to get home. I thought they were crazy and they confirmed it by telling me about the experience and that they would never do it again. 

I didn’t know the trail but felt safe in not getting lost since there only seemed to be one trail all the way up to the little lake a 100 feet from the top of the mountain.  After the lake the trail wasn’t quite as distinct so I had to watch a little more closely for signs of the trail. I finally could tell where it went up the side of the mountain even though a good share of that trail was still covered by the snowy glacier that had still not melted. I soon found myself after a very steep climb overlooking the valley. I could see my house down below and wondered if the rest of the family had awaken from their peaceful sleep since it was nearly 9 am by then. I then could see where there were two trails, one that went straight up the ridge and a second that wound around the face of the hill. I chose the latter since it wasn’t steep and I had already climbed a pretty steep part. (In later years I did go up that trail as well.) As I went around the front of the mountain I came to the ridge where I had to navigate my way up around the large snow drift that covered the trail and the ridge for nearly a 100 yards up and down from the trail.  I was surprised since it didn’t look that big from down in the valley.  I then continued around the face and had to stop and watch a lone cow Elk that was also on the ridge several feet below me. She was beautiful and I envied her ability to quickly navigate the steep slopes. It didn’t take her long to be gone from my view. I continued the slow uphill climb as I went around the face of the hill and then crossed over the ridge and the next snowdrift. The last part of the climb was the hardest as it went straight up to the summit and the geological marker. It was fun to be up there and to be able to see so far. Utah Lake was so large and Timpanogos Mountain so beautiful in the early morning light. Utah Peak and Provo peaks were also so neat and I seemed to be almost as high up as they were. I stopped to eat a little breakfast and to write a little note in the book in the mailbox that was mounted inside a rock monument there at the top. I also spent some time reading the notes left by other and still remember one written by an 87 year old woman whom had climbed earlier that year. I was stunned knowing how difficult it had seemed to me, a man in my prime, and how long she must have taken to be there. I was very impressed.

A few minutes later as I contemplated the return trip I was joined by a couple of young ladies that I recognized from Mapleton. They asked if I had seen the Rattle Snake on the snowdrift. I hadn’t but apparently it had slithered up there just after I passed so that it was sitting on my tracks as they came to cross the trail. I looked for it as I went down but it apparently had left by then. To that date I had still never seen a rattlesnake in the wild and was somewhat disappointed.

As I got back down to the ridge where I had crossed the first snowdrift I met a couple and their young scout age son. They had climbed up to see if they could find where the plane had crashed. I went down the ridge with the boy until we found where they had removed the plane. I was amazed how far off from the ridge the crash had been since again it looked closer from down in the valley. We didn’t find any debris which is what he wanted but we did find the crash site and the spot where I felt again the pain of those young sons who had been left without parent s and sibling sisters just a few months earlier. I climbed with him back to his parents waiting by the trail and then left to return home. I had taken several pictures that day and loved the beauty of the earth that I had now for the first time had the opportunity to see up close. It would be a trip I would repeat at least four more times.