How strangers came together to help rescue an injured NW hiker

Jenny Hartsock and her two dogs, Juniper and Sky, embarked on a normal day-off solo hiking excursion on the Blanca Lake Trail on July 4. The seasoned hiker and Bellingham physician anticipated that it would be a typical morning hike: she would ascend the challenging trail, cool down in the lake, and then descend.

Rather, the day became a multi-hour Hartsock rescue.

Other hikers on the trail rescued Hartsock after she suffered a leg injury during her descent. Before dusk, a small group of volunteers expanded to around 20 individuals, who constructed a homemade stretcher for Hartsock and brought her safely back to the trailhead. She would have had to continue her journey by herself without them, waiting for Search and Rescue for hours while her leg grew worse. Hartsock’s confidence in mankind was reinforced by the strangers’ generosity and care that day, which enabled her to survive the terrifying incident.

She remarked, “To be honest, I was shocked that all of these people who were complete strangers to me were willing to do this.” I thought, “It’s unbelievable how kind these people are.”

A typical summer hike goes awry

With a 2.5-hour climb up to Blanca Lake, the day started off as planned. The 8-mile out-and-back track is steep, rocky, and roots, with a vertical increase of little under 3,400 feet. Even though it was Hartsock’s first time riding it, she was accustomed to it because she had already logged thousands of miles. This was simply another typical summer hike for her.

Hartsock left her trekking poles behind and drove to the trailhead, where she picked up her backpack and headed out with her two dogs. “Unless I feel like I need them, which isn’t very often,” she remarked, “I usually don’t hike with them.”

Hartsock and her two dogs managed to reach the lake safely, where they spent a few hours admiring the scenery and swimming before beginning the descent.

Hartsock looked up from the trail with just a mile and a half to go and stumbled on what she believed to be a rock or a root. She heard a snap as the weight pressed down on her foot. She evaluated the condition and suspected a broken fibula because she is a doctor by profession.

Hartsock grabbed some ibuprofen and wrapped her ankle with a first aid kit she carried with her before trying to limp down. She claimed that even after receiving their collapsible poles from a passing hiker, they continued to sink into the ground and collapse on themselves. I gave that up and tried to just hop and crawl instead.

Hartsock’s progress was hampered by this, and he still had to descend 2,000 vertical feet to return to the trailhead. Concerned about the length of the journey and the possibility of more injury, Hartsock attempted to use a device she had to call Search and Rescue via satellite.

Nothing took place. She was unable to receive a satellite signal.

Some hikers eventually saw Hartsock, who had taken a seat on the route and had come down with her gadget in search of a signal. They informed her that they had contacted Search and Rescue, who suggested a self-rescue because it would take at least five hours to get to them.

At that point, the hikers in my immediate vicinity came together and said, “Okay, let’s do this, let’s figure out a plan and get moving,” Hartsock said.

Offering and receiving assistance

The trekkers immediately formed a group.

When Kenzie Lindquist and her roommate came across Hartsock on their way down from the lake, she jumped right in and helped organize and guide everyone, including a group of males they had spoken to briefly previously on the route. Their primary language was Spanish, so Lindquist’s roommate seized the chance to improve her language abilities and build a cordial trail relationship.

According to Lindquist, these two men and their family members—some of whom were concrete layers—were all quite strong.

While the group of guys began transporting Hartsock using a nylon sheet she had in her pack, Lindquist’s roommate took control of making sure Hartsock’s dogs were okay.

They tried using someone else’s towel when it ended up tearing, but that too tore. Nevertheless, the team was committed to pursuing Hartsock.

Carlos Bautista, one of the men who assisted in carrying Hartsock, stated, “We are involved now and not achieving (the rescue) is not an option.” Hartsock was a little scared.

Then it occurred to them to use tree branches to make a stretcher. Two branches were passed through the bottoms of a couple of hoodies that protruded from the shoulders. Two three-person teams carried Hartsock from either side while she sat in the hoodies.

After that, Hartsock stated, we were able to begin making pretty good progress.

Lindquist called out impending impediments (such as rocks and roots) to the Hartsock carriers because some of them were unable to see what lay ahead on the trail.

According to her, the team dynamic undoubtedly played a role. And gradually, as more hikers descended, some thought, “Oh, may I be of assistance?”

The original group of hikers assisting Hartsock gradually expanded to over 20 members.

Hartsock said she felt sorry for me since all I could do was sit there and do nothing. She had always been able to leave on her own without any problems before this happened. She was frequently the one lending a hand, whether it was by bandaging hikers who were too hot or dehydrated, bandaging rolled ankles, or waiting for ski patrol to arrive with fallen skiers.

She had never been on the receiving end before.

I detest being powerless. According to her, letting go of control and genuinely accepting assistance helps one recognize how vulnerable and ultimately human we are.

Hartsock, Bautista, and Lindquist estimate that the descent took four to five hours. Volunteer Search and Rescue from Snohomish County arrived as they were getting close to the trailhead. They packed equipment to assist in carrying Hartsock down, but they felt it would be more effective to utilize the homemade stretcher for the rest of the hike.

When they got back to the trailhead, Hartsock and her dogs were driven to a hotel in a nearby town by Lindquist and her roommate. The following day, her husband, who was out of state, was able to come and get her.

Hartsock is aware that the hikers had a difficult time navigating that trail and protecting her. She learned from the experience that people may still be kind at heart and willing to lend a hand when horrible things happen.

“I was really moved by the way the people who saved me came together,” Hartsock added. When we came to a halt, I started crying because it simply confirmed my confidence in people, which had, to be honest, been really eroding in recent months.

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