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- LOST IN WILDERNESS, PAIR MAY HAVE SAVED THEIR MARRIAGE
Seattle Times
Wednesday, March 12, 2003
Lost in a wintry wilderness, pair may have saved marriage
By Rebecca Boone The Associated Press
BOISE, Idaho ‹ It would take a miracle to save her marriage, Suzanne
Shemwell confided to friends.
After 23 years together, she and Jim had drifted apart. Suzanne did not know
if the two could last another year, living together in uncomfortable
silence.
The miracle would come, twofold: In what was planned to be a three-hour
snowmobile trip, Suzanne and Jim got stranded, then lost, for five days on a
freezing mountaintop.
Though they had only a snack-size package of sausage and a candy bar, they
made it home against all odds. And the teamwork they relied on to survive
renewed the strength in their relationship.
Jim Shemwell, 45, had invited a friend to go snowmobiling last Wednesday
with him and Suzanne, 43. But after a last-minute cancellation, the couple
headed to Pilot Peak alone.
The mountain ‹ nearly 7,000 feet above sea level and about 40 miles outside
of Boise ‹ was covered in fresh powder.
A simple day trip
"It was going to be a three-hour tour, just like Gilligan's Island," said
Jim Shemwell from his bed at St. Alphonsus Hospital in Boise. "We went down
into a bowl to play with the snowmobiles, but the powder was so soft and the
slope was so steep that we couldn't get out."
After taking a careful look at the rough terrain, Jim and Suzanne Shemwell
decided to drive the snowmobiles farther down the mountain and then work
their way back to the pickup.
But the deep snow was hiding dangerous obstacles. First Jim drove into a
creek, and Suzanne had to wait while he dug free. They tried winding along a
steep side hill, but Suzanne's snowmobile slid into a tree, twisting her
knee and ankle.
It was nearly 3:30 p.m. by then, and the couple made a decision: They would
camp for the night, and ride Jim's snowmobile out at first light.
The Shemwells are practical. Their youngest daughter, 8-year-old Taryn, was
at a day-care center and they knew the owner would alert family when no one
came to pick up the girl.
By the time Suzanne had used her 10 years of experience as a Girl Scout
leader to build a snow cave and Jim had gathered enough firewood for the
night, phone calls were alerting friends and family that the two were
missing.
Search begins
The Idaho Mountain Search and Rescue team began organizing the search effort
and found the Shemwells' pickup by 11:30. Daughters Dorinda Shemwell, 26,
and Micaela Dingledeim, 20, notified family and nervously waited as a
blizzard began to rage on the peak.
"We had some shop rags that we tore up and used to start the fire, and
Suzanne stayed up that first night to keep it going," said Jim. "Our first
snowcave was too small to fit both of us, so she was curled up next to the
fire and I was curled up right behind her."
They had shared part of a package of Little Smokies sausages. Both expected
to be home within 24 hours.
Thursday morning they climbed on Jim's snowmobile, but the steep terrain and
soft powder burned out the clutch.
"It took us five hours to get as far as we could have walked in 15 minutes,"
said Jim. "We abandoned both machines and decided to walk to where we could
follow some snowmobile tracks."
Jim took the lead, tramping down the snow so that Suzanne could walk behind.
Just 5 feet tall, she was dwarfed by the 10-foot snowbanks created by nearly
5 feet of new snow. They scooped up handfuls of snow to eat, Jim stopping
occasionally to wring out his 25-cent gloves.
By that evening, they had found no tracks. Again, they camped for the night.
As if things were not hard enough, the handle broke on the tiny
shovel-and-saw combination tool they needed for fire and shelter.
The last shop rag was wrapped around the saw blade so Jim could continue to
cut wood for heat.
"The nights felt pretty long. The cold would cramp your muscles and it was
not comfortable," he said.
They took turns keeping the fire alive, talking about what they would eat
when they got home and how they would make it there.
"Jim is not a man of many words," said Suzanne. "But he kept me going. I got
a little whiny sometimes, and once I got pretty frantic. But he calmed me
down, helped me along."
Friday passed just like Thursday, except it marked the last of the Little
Smokies. They could see the high dome of Pilot Peak and crawled along the
steep slope toward the top, where they knew they would find other
snowmobilers.
The couple took turns yelling and blowing Suzanne's whistle, and prayed for
salvation from the snow.
On Saturday, they thought their prayers were answered. First a plane flew
overhead, then a helicopter. The Shemwells yelled and waved their
multicolored helmets in the air, and waited for the rescuers to come. An
hour later they knew no one had seen them.
"We were both in tears, crying, saying, 'We're going home,' " said Jim.
"When they didn't come, Suze was starting to get some doubts. But I told her
we were going to the top of the mountain, and we were getting out of there."
A reason to continue
Suzanne kept thinking of Taryn, nicknamed Tinkerbell.
"I knew we just had to get home for Tinkerbell. Our other two daughters are
older, married, but Tinkerbell really needs us," she said.
Sunday morning was the hardest, Jim said.
"I knew we were close to not making it. I have prayed more during those five
days than ever in my life, and I just felt we had to proceed on," he said.
Malnutrition and physical stress were wearing on the couple. Both had
frostbite on their feet. Suzanne's big toes were blackened by the cold.
She was so weak that Jim tied the tow rope they had salvaged from the
snowmobiles around her waist and pulled her up the mountain. Three-quarters
of the way, they camped again.
Meanwhile, Rod Knopp, coordinator for the Idaho Mountain Search and Rescue
effort, regretfully suspended the search. There had been several avalanches
in the 50-square-mile area where they believed the Shemwells were stranded,
and they could not risk any more lives until conditions got better.
At 11 a.m. Monday, Suzanne and Jim found what they had been looking for: a
thin ribbon in the snow marking the tracks of a snowmobiler. Despite the
danger, some volunteers had not given up. Using the last bit of battery in
their two-way radio, they finally contacted searchers Scott Marquart and
Julio Eiguren.
Minutes later they were feasting on beef jerky, granola bars and protein
shakes as tears streamed down their cold cheeks. By 3:30, they were on their
way to St. Alphonsus Regional Medical Center, shouting messages of love and
goodwill to friends and family gathered in the parking lot.
Both survived the ordeal intact; doctors say Suzanne won't even lose a
toenail despite the frostbite.
"It was just teamwork that got us through it, pure and simple," said Jim as
he prepared to be released yesterday. "Not panicking, not getting upset with
each other and making decisions together."
Suzanne, who will be hospitalized a little longer, said Jim's strength kept
her alive.
"Normally I'm the strong one, the controlling one," she said. "I had to
really count on Jim up there. He pulled me along. He didn't abandon me. We
made it together."
As she recovered yesterday, a friend stopped by her hospital room to wish
Suzanne well and ask her about the ordeal.
Jim and Suzanne's marriage had been struggling. They weren't sharing with
each other anymore, and Suzanne often wondered if it was just a matter of
time.
Surviving the Idaho wilderness for nearly a week may not solve all their
problems, Suzanne said, but she whispered softly to her friend during a hug,
"Everything happens for a reason."
Moments later she told a reporter, "When I said our marriage needed a
miracle, I didn't know this would be it."
