spot where I’d just been sta nding. Christina
scrambled barefoot off the boulder toward
higher ground.
I raced up the rocks, which had been at
least 10 feet above the pool’s surface, just as
the f lood submerged them. Christina and I
clawed our way up the canyon on all fours,
grabbing vines to pull ourselves up. I looked
over my shoulder and saw that the water
had risen 20 feet in less tha n a minute.
Christina led us through dense brush,
prickly trees, and ankle-deep mud. When
we’d climbed 200 feet, we stopped to catch
our breath. Now we had a different problem:
The trail and the road were on the other side
of the swollen river. We were stuck.
Then the sky opened up. We had no head-
lamp or rain jackets and were exhausted
from the scramble. Christina asked if I
had my phone. It was soaking wet, but still
blinked on. No service. We decided to move
toward higher ground to get a better signal.
It was almost dark.
For a moment, the phone connected, and
I heard the faint voice of Mae, our vacation
renta l host. She sa id she’d ca l l for help. Then
the phone went silent.
We had no idea whether rescuers could
reach us. Christina found a hollow tree
which we used as a partial shield from the
rain. We told each other not to panic as
night set in, but I didn’t know when or how
we’d get off the mountain.
I tried to send more texts to Mae, but
most of them bounced back undeliverable.
There wa s nothing we could do but wa it.
We tried to convince each other that we
couldn’t possibly get hypothermia in the
tropics, but our wet bodies were starting
to disagree. We’d been stranded for nearly
four hours. Shivering, we huddled closer for
warmth. It was pitch-black and the mosqui-
toes were out, feasting on our scratched a nd
bruised skin.
After another hour, we saw faint lights
across the canyon. But no one in their right
mind would tr y to cross the river that night.
I didn’t see how else we wou ld get out—there
were no roads, and the sky was blocked with
a dense canopy of trees.
My wet phone had begun to lose function,
but the f lashlight still worked. I turned it on
and shone it at the canopy above as a signal.
The ghostly glow barely registered against
the dense vegetation.
Then I heard the blades of a helicopter.
In minutes, the trees were thrashing in
the wind generated by the aircraft. A cable
appeared through the canopy, and then a
rescuer. We were safe.Skill
SchoolFLASH
FLOOD
AWARENESSTim Knaus is the Plateau District Ranger
and a lead member of Search and Rescue
in Zion National Park, where flash floods
are common.Watch the conditions.
“Rain can occur upstream of your
location, so flooding can happen even
when there are blue skies above you,”
Knaus says. Check weather forecasts
before heading out and always heed the
advice of rangers.Recognize warning signs.
Beware of water turning murky, a rush of
air travelling down a canyon, rumbling
sounds, and the smell of dir t. If you
detect any of the above, seek high
ground immediately.Know when you’re in flood territory.
“Narrow canyons, large catch basins,
sparse vegetation, a thin soil bed, and
swaths of solid rock contribute to flash
flooding,” Knaus says. Vegetation
wrapped around trees and scarring on
one side of their trunks are signs that
flash floods have struck there before.