Hiker Found After 16 Days Father, Son Out Hunting Discover Oregon Man

As he wandered for 16 days lost in the dense, rugged woods of the Siskiyou National Forest, David Vetterlein had plenty of time to think about what he should have done differently.

He should have taken the CB radio his father offered. He should have taken fresh matches or a lighter that wouldn’t fizzle out. He should have brought a better map and food that wouldn’t spoil.

In the end, it was just perseverance - putting one foot in front of the other, despite drenching rain, cold and lack of food - that put him on a logging road where a man out deer hunting with his 10-year-old son found him Sunday afternoon.

“When I stopped, he just said, ‘Oh, thank God, thank God.”’

For the 50-year-old mathematician, who felt he could not survive one more night, Dan Speelman “was a Godsend.”

Speelman drove Vetterlein to a U.S. Forest Service ranger station, where he ate a big bowl of soup, called his parents, and was checked out by emergency medical technicians, who pronounced him fit.

“The things that saved me were those dozen cornmeal muffins I made before the trip and my father buying me some salmon jerky,” Vetterlein said. “It was too salty to eat at the beginning, but saved me at the end.”

About five days into his ordeal, a helicopter flew directly over him at treetop level, but Vetterlein couldn’t get the pilot’s attention through the trees.

One day before he was found, three planes flew directly over him. Vetterlein tied his red shirt to his hiking stick and waved it wildly, but the pilots didn’t see him.

“Towards the end, it was just pray, pray, pray,” Vetterlein said.

His father dropped him off Aug. 30 at the trailhead of the Hobson Horn-Silver Peak trail, considered one of the most difficult trails in the Siskiyous.

“The next day is when trouble started,” Vetterlein said.

He lost the trail and had to bushwhack first north and then south around Silver Peak. He rediscovered the trail and came to a junction where a sign pointed to Indigo Trail, which wasn’t clearly marked on his map.

Hoping to save some time so he wouldn’t be late meeting his father, Vetterlein decided to take that trail, figuring it would take him along Indigo Creek and on to Oak Flat, where he wanted to go. But before long, the path deteriorated into deer trails. Following his compass, he set out cross country, struggling across a series of gorges, then climbing to ridgetop.

He spotted Indigo Creek and decided to follow it downstream to its junction with the Illinois River. But the creek went into a steep canyon, where the water was over his head.

“I started up the north embankment, pulling myself up one bush after another.

“I continued up the side there for what must have been three days. Some days I wouldn’t make much headway at all. My strength was gone.”

On Friday, Vetterlein had stumbled upon a log landing in the middle of a big clearcut, the first sign of other life - besides a rattlesnake and a black bear - he had seen since his hike began.

“I was so elated,” he said. “I couldn’t believe I was walking on level ground. I went to the middle of it and plopped down everything. I laid out my tarps. I laid out my yellow sponge rubber map. I tied my red shirt to my hiking stick and started waiting for a plane. But no plane came by that day.”

On Saturday morning, three planes flew overhead. But no one saw him. Later that day, the formal search was called off.

That night it rained. With no tent and a tarp too small to cover his sleeping bag, Vetterlein was drenched.

When dawn broke, he knew he wouldn’t survive another cold, wet night and resolved to walk all night if he had to.

“I was at my rope’s end,” he said. Speelman had gotten up at 4:30 a.m. to go bow hunting with son Denver, and hadn’t intended to be on that road.

“All morning, I was looking for this Indigo Prairie, but I kept taking this wrong road,” Speelman said. “I wasn’t lost, but I wasn’t where I wanted to be.”

At about 1:30 p.m., he saw Vetterlein walking toward him, his wet sleeping bag draped over his backpack.

“I got out and shook his hand,” Speelman said. “He kept hugging me. I said, ‘Well, let’s throw your backpack in the truck here and let’s get you down to the ranger station.”’