Back in 1961 President John F. Kennedy challenged the nation to get fit. One of the popular activities at that time was to take a fifty mile hike. We decided that we would accept the challenge and hike fifty miles through the Topa Topa Mountains from the Ridge Route to California State Highway 33. We had never hiked this far before but were confident that if we did it over a two or three day period it wouldn't be too bad. The weekend before our trip we had all gathered at Randy's house to plan our trip. Randy had just returned from a weekend excursion to Tijuana, Mexico with his parents. We were in his garage at his father's workbench.

"Hey, I got something for you guys?" Randy said.

"Oh really, what is it?" I asked.

Randy dug down into a bag sitting in front of him and pulled out a black and silver object with a button on the side.

"What is that?" Steve said.

Randy smiled, pushed the button and immediately a six inch blade flipped out.

"Damn, what is that?" I said.

"A switch blade," Randy replied.

"Isn't that illegal."

"Only if you get caught with it," Randy laughed. "I got one for both of you."

Randy tossed one to Steve and I and we both spent several minutes messing around with them.

"This is pretty wicked," Steve commented.

"Hey, I got something else you're going to like," Randy said. Randy dug back down into his bag and pulled out a hand full of round red objects with fuses.

"What are those?" I asked.

"Cherry Bombs," Randy replied.

"What's a cherry bomb?" Steve said.

"They're like giant fire crackers. Come here I'll show you how they work."

Randy rummaged around the garage and found a tin can. Then he brought us out in the front of the house, lit one of the cherry bombs and dropped it on the ground. Quickly he covered it with the can and then screamed, "Take cover."

We all scattered and then, suddenly, there was a loud bang that sounded something like a gun shot. The tin can shot rapidly into the air about 25 feet and then fell back to the earth bouncing several times on the concrete driveway. Immediately, the front door flew open and Mrs. Hanson ran out.

"What happened!" I heard a gun shot.

Randy began to laugh. "It wasn't anything Mom, I just lit a cherry bomb."

Mrs. Hanson put her hands on her waste and frowned at Randy.

"You liked to scare me to death Randy Hanson. Fred do you scare your mother like this?"

"No, she'd kill me if I did."

"I bet she would," she said. "You boys all ready for your hike?"

"Yes, Ma'am," I replied. "We're ready and very anxious to go."

"Well, I know you boys are going to have lots of fun."

"Yes, Ma'am," Steve said.

"Now, no more shooting off cherry bombs, it's against the law to set them off in the city limits."

"Alright, I just wanted to show Steve and Fred how powerful they were."

The next week went very fast and before we knew it the day of our departure had arrived. Most of our camping experience had been in fair weather. California doesn't get that much rain and the temperatures are pretty mild. We often slept under the stars and packed rather light. It was not uncommon for us to hike in tennis shoes rather than hiking boots.

My mother drove us to the Ridge Route and the trailhead for the Topatopa Trail. I brought a small nylon, very light, pup tent just in case it rained. I had an old army hard hat, a canteen and a back pack with assorted cooking utensils, light clothing and food. Randy wore jeans, t-shirt and sneakers. Although I never searched through his back pack I would guess it had several issues of Mad Magazine, comic books and lots of snacks. Steve, on the other hand, was a model Boy Scout who brought everything one could ever possibly need on a hike. Unfortunately with all of these amenities his pack was exceedingly heavy.

An item I always brought on a camping trip were fire starters. In an old issue of Boy's Life Magazine it gave instructions on how to make fire starters out of rolled up newspapers and candle wax. Of course, we knew how to start a fire with a stick or flint and steel, but those methods were too difficult to be practical. Fire starters, however, were great because just one of them and a single match could start a fire under any condition. Earlier in the year I made several hundred of them so I always carried an ample supply.

We were all in a good mood and eager to get started. I kissed my mother good bye, gave my dog, Sheila, a hug and then proceeded up the mountainside. I wanted to bring Sheila along on the hike but decided against it since I would have had to carry all of her food. The trail was not the greatest in the world. It obviously wasn't heavily traveled and from time to time it would seem to disappear. After a few miles we came to a sign that read "Lyon's Canyon 2, Topatopa Pass 7, Pyramid Lake 12 and Maricopa Highway 47."

By this time Steve was beginning to pay the price for all the luxury he was packing. He would frequently stop and shift his pack. After awhile he began to lag behind us a few paces. We kept asking him how he was doing and he always insisted he was doing okay. After another mile or so we entered Lyon's Canyon. The trail was cut along the steep canyon walls above Piru Creek and was quite narrow. About midway through the Canyon I looked up and spotted a giant condor from the Sespe Condor Sanctuary North of Fillmore. I yelled in delight and pointed at the condor gliding through the Canyon. Randy looked up and smiled.

Just then we heard Steve stumble as he took his eye off the narrow path to observe the majestic bird. We turned around just in time to see him rolling down the side of the hill. We dropped our packs and scrambled down the hillside to where he had come to a stop.

"Are you okay Steve?" I said.

"Yeah. I think so."

"What happened?" Randy said.

"I don't know. . . . I just lost my footing."

"It's your pack, you've got too much junk in it." Randy said as he helped Steve up.

"No, it was you guys making such a big deal over that stupid bird. Just leave me alone, I'll be all right, lets go."

Other than a few bruises he was okay and we hiked on until noon. Then we stopped on the top of the crest for lunch and to rest. We could see Topatopa Pass in the distance rising some 6,210 ft. above sea level. We had started at about 4,500 feet and guessed we had climbed at least a 1,000 feet already. After lunch we continued on figuring we would go another four or five miles and them camp for the night. Before long, thick puffy clouds began to roll across the sky. We didn't think anything about it as these types of cumulus clouds in the mountains are not unusual.

As the day progressed the clouds thickened up and it began to get dark even though it was only mid-afternoon. Before long it began to rain. Luckily we all had ponchos which we immediately utilized. By this time Randy was regretting that he was wearing sneakers. They began to get wet and his feet were getting cold as the temperature was falling rapidly. We couldn't see Topatopa Pass anymore as the clouds had totally concealed it.

It was about 4 o'clock when the rain turned to snow. We couldn't believe it. Never in a million years would we have believed it would snow this time of year in these mountains. Although the Boy Scout motto is "be prepared," we were totally unprepared for what lay ahead.

Before long the snow flurries turned into a blizzard. Randy kept complaining about his feet freezing and Steve was too scared to talk. I suggested the wise thing to do would be to pitch my tent, all three of us get inside in our sleeping bags to preserve body warmth, and wait until the storm was over. Getting no opposition to my suggestions we followed that course of action. It was actually pretty warm inside the tent in our sleeping bags. After a few minutes Steve dug deep into his back pack, pulled out a transistor radio and turned it on.

"Stay tuned for the KMPC News coming up next after this commercial announcement."

"I wonder if they'll give the weather report," Randy said.

"And now for the news. A freak spring storm has rolled over the Southern California mountains bringing up to 10 inches of snow and blizzard conditions. This storm was such a surprise it has left many hikers and campers stranded in the mountains. Now lets go to Barbara James at Arrowhead Lake where a troop of boy scouts is missing in the blizzard."

"Hello, this is Barbara James and I am with Robert Jenson of the United States Forest Service. Mr. Jenson I understand a troop of boy scouts is missing in the mountains behind Lake Arrowhead."

"Yes, Barbara, the troop had been camping at the lake and were on a hike to Eagle Rock when apparently the blizzard struck."

"Has anyone been able to reach the scouts?" "No, the conditions are too rough right now to travel. We'll have to wait until the weather breaks and then send in a search and rescue unit."

"Do you know if the scouts were equipped for this unexpected weather?"

"Well, we've got to presume so. After all they are boy scouts, right?"

"Well this is Barbara James reporting from Lake Arrowhead where family and friends have gathered to pray that their teenagers return home safely."

Steve turned off the radio to save the battery. Randy then asked, "Do you think anyone is out looking for us?"

"I doubt it," I said, "My parents have complete confidence that we could handle any situation that might arise. After all, we are all Eagle Scouts with thousands of hours of camping experience."

"But none of us have ever camped in the snow," Steve pointed out."

"So, what's a little snow. We just need to get a good fire going tomorrow and everything will be fine. Besides, this storm can't last very long this time of year. Tomorrow the snow will melt off so fast our only problem will be scrapping the mud off our boots," I said.

We each found something to eat out of our back packs, talked for a hour or so and then fell asleep. We were all so tired we hardly noticed the blizzard raging above us.

I was the first to awake the next morning. I quickly realized the tent had collapsed and we were buried several feet in snow. It was warm in my sleeping bag so I pondered whether I wanted to brave the bitter cold that I knew awaited me above. It occurred to me that our only hope of survival was to get a good fire going as soon as possible so we could keep warm while we ate breakfast and then packed up. It was fortunate that I had a good supply of fire starters as this weather would certainly not be conducive to rapid combustion.

I unzipped the tent and struggled outside and on top of the snow. As I gazed across the landscape I was amazed at the incredibly beautiful transformation that had occurred during the night. I had always been fascinated by snow. Being a California boy snow was a rare commodity and I was always bugging my Dad to take me up into the mountains to go tobogganing. My dad didn't like the snow since he was from Canada and had got his fill of it, but he would break down a couple of times a year and take me to see it.

It looked like about a foot of snow had fallen and the temperature must have been about 20 degrees. I knew I needed to get a fire started so we could stay warm until the temperature started to rise. Since all of the dead wood laying around our tent was extremely wet I knew it would not be easy to start a fire.

I searched around to find the driest wood available. After I had a good supply rounded up I got out my fire starters and some matches. Then I laid the wood tepee style over half a dozen fire starters. I had never needed more than one before but this was extreme situation and I didn't want to fail. I struck the match and lit one of the fire starters. They began to burn with a vengeance and before long I had a hot fire going.

" Randy!...Steve!...Get up," I yelled. "I've got a fire going."

Randy and Steve reluctantly began to stir. One by one they finally got out of their sleeping bags, struggled out of the tent and huddled around the fire. I fixed breakfast consisting of pancakes, coffee and bacon and then we discussed what to do.

"I think we should turn back," Steve said. "It's too damn cold to hike anymore and we're not equipped for this type of weather."

"But the weather will probably get better this afternoon," I said.

"I am with Steve," Randy said. "My feet are freezing and I don't even have a jacket."

"What kind of a Boy Scout are you going on a fifty mile hike in sneakers and no jacket?" I said.

"I don't know, all I know is I am going to freeze to death if we don't get out of here soon."

"Okay, let's pack it up and head on back to the trail head," I said.

Unfortunately, it didn't take long to realize the trail had been totally covered by the snow. We had no earthly idea which way to go!

"I think we should go South since we were heading North before," Randy said.

"That would be great except the trail wound all over the mountain and I am not sure it's possible just to go south," Steve replied.

"Why don't we just go downhill, that way we will soon get out of the snow anyway and hopefully to some kind of civilization," I said.

We all agreed to try the downhill strategy and get to a lower elevation where it wouldn't be so cold. After a hour or so tracking through the snow Randy began to moan, "My feet are killing me. I think I am getting frostbite. I’ve got to warm them up."

"Come on Randy, I hate to stop now, we need to keep moving," I said.

"I can't walk anymore," Randy complained.

"Okay, I'll build another fire and you can warm up your feet. Take your socks off so we can dry them over the flames. I started another fire and Randy followed my instructions. After about thirty minutes Randy was feeling a little better and we started down the mountain again. Progress was very slow walking in the deep snow. Steve began to get panicky as the depths of the snow didn't seem to be changing as we hiked down the mountain.

"We're never going to get out of this snow."

"Yes, we will. We have to eventually," I assured him.

"We'll probably freeze to death out here tonight and they'll find us all dead in the morning."

"Don't be stupid! We're not going to die. We can get in our pup tent again tonight if we have to," I replied.

It was starting to get dark again and I was beginning to get worried myself about another night out in the cold. I wasn't so worried about myself as I was for my companions who weren't taking the adversity very well. Soon we had no choice but to stop again for the night. We started a fire and then pitched our tents. Steve and Randy huddled up next to the fire while I made dinner.

"Why don't you try your radio again Steve," I suggested.

Steve went and got his radio and then sat back next to the fire. The radio blurted out a bunch of static so Steve fiddled with the dial until KMPC came in clearly.

"It's the bottom of the second inning with the score, the Dodgers two and the Pirates one," Vince Scully, the Dodger announcer said.

"Crap! Randy moaned.

"Too bad," I said. "I told you to forget the Pirates and become a Dodger fan. You don't live in Pittsburgh anymore."

"The games not over yet."

"True, but it'll only get worse."

"I don't really give a damn now anyway," Steve said.

"You guys are a bunch of babies. This is fun. Man against the elements," I said.

"That's easy for you to say, your feet aren't frostbit."

"Come on, the snow's going to melt and we'll find our way back to the trail head in the morning. You'll feel better after I get some hot food down you."

I began making some hot soup, biscuits and threw some potatoes in the fire to bake. Then Vince Scully said, "And now back to our local station for an important announcement."

"This is Barbara James here with Robert Jenson of the United States Forest Service. Bob, I understand the Boy Scout troop lost near Lake Arrowhead has been found."

"Yes, Barbara they were found by rescuers late this afternoon."

"What was their condition, Bob?"

"There were a few minor injuries and a lot of cases of frost bite, but all in all they came out of it okay."

"Bob, are there any other hikers and campers stranded up in the mountains after this freak blizzard?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact there are a half a dozen or so hiking parties unaccounted for in the Southern California mountains. We've got search parties looking for them, but the problem is we don't know exactly where they are. They don't have to register a hiking plan with anyone so it's anyone's guess where they might be."

"What's the weather going to be like up there tonight? Is it going to be as cold?"

"The mountain forecast is for scattered snow flurries with possible accumulations of up to three inches and temperatures in the low 20's."

"One last question Bob, what do you think are the chances of survival for those hikers still up there in the mountains?"

"Well Barbara, it depends on whether they were equipped for cold weather. It they have warm clothes and good footwear they should be okay. What we're worried about is that since this snow storm came so late in the season that many of these hikers weren't prepared for cold weather. If that's the case then they may be in for a rough time."

"Okay, thank you Bob. Now back to Vince Scully and the Dodger game."

"Yes, thank you Barbara and our thoughts and prayers are with all those hikers stranded in the Southern California mountains this evening," Vince said.

Steve shut off his radio and there was dead silence around the campfire. After a minute I began to smell the strong odor of the vegetable beef soup. I looked down and saw that it was boiling so I began dishing it out for everyone to eat. Before I had even filled one bowl I heard the bushes rustle. I turned around but couldn't see anything in the darkness.

"Somebody get a flashlight," I ordered.

Randy jumped up and ran to his pack, pulled out a flashlight and flashed it into the bushes. Something moved again and we all jumped to our feet. Whatever it was it was keeping its distance.

"What's out there," Steve whispered.

"I don't know, I can't see anything," Randy replied.

Just then the bush moved again and a raccoon came scampering across the snow, stopped a moment and looked us over and then ran off.

"Jesus, that little guy nearly made me piss in my pants," Randy said.

"I'm glad it was just a raccoon and not a pack of wolves," I said.

"There aren't any wolves up here are there?" Steve asked.

"I don't think so, just a few coyotes and a mountain lion or two."

"You don't think they would bother us do you," Steve said.

"No, not unless they were hungry and smelled our food," I replied. "Hmm. With all this snow they might be having trouble finding food. We better eat quickly and put our food away."

Just then we heard rustling in the bushes again. This time it wasn't isolated in one direction but was all around us. Randy flashed his light out toward the perimeter of camp. This time the light fell on the cold green eyes of a half dozen coyotes. My heart began to pound as I tried to think of a way to extricate us from the danger that confronted us. I looked around the camp hoping to see something that would trigger a solution in my mind. I saw the fire and remembered animals were afraid of fire. I dashed over to it to grab a burning log. Reacting to my movement the coyote bolted after me. I turned and waved the flames in the coyote's face. He growled as he backed off slowly. Unfortunately the flame on my stick began to go out.

I wondered if I should grab for another stick or just stand my ground, hoping the coyote would lose interest and run off. Somehow I couldn't see the coyote abandoning his quest for food so easily so I lunged for the fire. The coyote attacked and sunk his teeth into the left sleeve of my jacket. I could feel the pressure of his bite but the two sweat shirts and heavy coat I was wearing protected me from his sharp teeth. I fumbled for another flaming stick but couldn't reach it. Then, as I rolled in the snow I felt a sharp pain against my leg. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my switchblade and flipped it open. The coyote let loose of my sleeve and lunged for my throat. I raised my left hand to blunt the attack and stuck the blade of my knife in the chest of the coyote.

The other coyotes, reacting to the smell of blood, began to attack. Suddenly I heard gun shots. I wondered if a rescue party had arrived just in the nick of time. Then I saw Steve and Randy throwing cherry bombs in the fire. As the bombs exploded the coyotes made a hasty retreat. Once they were gone Steve and Randy ran over to where I was laying in the snow next to the dead coyote

"Fred! Are you okay?" Randy said .

"I think so, I am not sure."

"Look, you killed that son of bitch," Steve said. "Come on, I'll help you up."

Steve grabbed my arm, pulled me up and began brushing off the snow from jacket and blue jeans.

"I know, but if you hadn't fired off those cherry bombs I'd be dead."

"We'd all be dead," Randy observed.

"I am sure glad you went to Tijuana Randy," I said.

"No joke," Steve replied.

After the attack we moved our camp a good distance away from the dead coyote. We sure didn't want to be anywhere near a dead animal with a forest full of hungry predators looking for food. We pitched our tent and settled in for another bitterly cold night. It snowed a little but nothing like the previous night. The next day we began our journey again down the mountain, hoping to get out of the snow and down to warmer weather.

The going was slow as the snow was deep and slippery. After hiking all morning we stopped for lunch and then pressed on. Just as I was about to suggest it was time to stop again for the night I heard Steve yell, "Look! A log cabin."

Steve and Randy rushed toward the cabin. They knocked furiously on the door but no one answered. When I caught up to them they were peering in the front window.

"Damn! There's nobody home," Steve said.

"Who cares. Just break a window," Randy said.

"We can't do that. That would be illegal," I said.

"Who gives a rats ass. I am sleeping in that cabin tonight!" Randy said.

"You guys can break in if you want to, but I am not going to jail for breaking and entering."

"You're crazy Fuller. We'll freeze tonight if we camp out again," Randy replied.

"I am not going to jail. I couldn't stand it in jail. I'd go bananas."

"Don't worry, this is an emergency. We won't get in trouble," Randy promised.

Randy broke one of the windows and entered the cabin. It had a big fire place and was well stocked with food. That night we sat around the wooden table in front of a raging fire pondering our adventure. We had stuck together and we had survived.

"We should make it official," I said.

"Make what official?" Steve asked.

"Our kinship, the fact that we are blood brothers," I replied.

"How do we do that?"

"Do both of you have your Order of Arrow necklaces that we made when we inducted into the tribe?"

"I do," Randy said.

"Yeah, it's in my pack somewhere," Steve advised.

"Good, get them."

We all went and got our induction necklaces and laid them on the table. Then I pulled out a bottle and unscrewed the lid.

"What's that?" Randy said.

"Coyote blood," I replied. "I took it from the coyote I killed."

"Jesus, what are you, some kind of vampire?"

"No, we needed it for the ceremony. Haven't you ever read the Bible. They're always putting lambs blood all over everything."

"What's it for," Steve asked.

"It's symbolic of our close friendship and brotherhood," I said. "We can use this, unless of course one of you wants to volunteer some of his own blood."

"No, that's alright, we'll use the Coyote blood," Randy said.

I dropped some Coyote blood on each of the necklaces and then said, "Now stand up and we'll make this official."

Randy and Steve stood up obediently. I picked up Randy's necklace and held it out in front of him. The words Free Spirit were etched in the leather below the symbol of the Order of the Arrow. This was Randy's Indian name given to him when he became a brave of the mighty Comanche Tribe. Steve's Indian name was Thunderbolt and mine was Swift River.

"Free Spirit, you have smeared the blood of the coyote on your necklace as a sign of your kinship to Thunderbolt and Swift River. Do you pledge to stand by them as a brother and faithfully defend their honor to your death?" I said.

Randy smiled and said, "I do."

"Thunderbolt, you have smeared the blood of the coyote on your necklace as a sign of your kinship to Free Spirit and Swift River. Do you pledge to stand by them as a brother would and faithfully defend their honor to your death?" I repeated.

Steve looked me in the eye and said, "Yes, I will."

"I likewise pledge to stand by Free Spirit and Thunderbolt as if they were my brothers and faithfully defend their honor to my death."

I then gave Free Spirit and Thunderbolt their necklaces and we all put them on. "Wear these necklaces as a symbol of our kinship and our strength as blood brothers."

The next day the Rangers found us and Randy was right, no one complained about us breaking in the cabin. We were reunited with our families who, contrary to my expectations, were actually worried about us.