Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: FRIDAY, January 8, 1993 TAG: 9301080184
SECTION: NATIONAL/INTERNATIONAL PAGE: A1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: JENNIFER WARREN LOS ANGELES TIMES
DATELINE: CEDARVILLE, CALIF. LENGTH: Long
`I GAVE HER A KISS . . . AND PROMISED HER I'D MAKE IT'
Marooned with her baby in a frigid cave, Jennifer Stolpa listened through three days and nights for the rescuers she feared would never come. Instead she heard the howls of coyotes, a terrifying sound that seemed to draw nearer by the hour.The food - fruitcake, coconut cookies and a few tortilla chips - had run out long before, and now on Wednesday her breast milk was gone as well. Melting ice in her mouth and feeding her infant son the liquid like a bird, she fought the mounting panic and wondered: Would they freeze first, or starve?
Then came the roar of a snowcat, and Stolpa, disbelieving at first, realized they would be saved. With both feet frostbitten and sore, the weeping mother could not rise. But she waved her arms and cried out from the mouth of her tiny cave, and the rescuers spotted her through the falling snow.
"I thought I was going to die," Stolpa, 20, said as she rode to safety Wednesday night. A day later, she spoke of her husband, James Stolpa, 21, who had walked more than 40 miles through a blizzard to summon help for his family.
"He is more than a hero to me," she said from her hospital bed. "He promised me he'd get us out of there and he did."
So the worst part, the scariest part, has ended. Vanishing Dec. 29 while en route to a family funeral in Idaho, their ordeal in the desolate Nevada desert spanned a week - five hopeless nights in their disabled pickup truck, and, for Jennifer Stolpa, three more shivering days in the cave with 5-month-old Clayton. For most of the time, snow fell and temperatures hovered below freezing.
As they recounted their saga Thursday, both of the adult Stolpas had their feet thickly wrapped in blankets. They appeared exhausted, their mood was somber and their eyes filled with tears as they recalled some of the more frightening moments.
The family left the San Francisco area Dec. 29, heading for James Stolpa's grandmother's funeral in Pocatello, Idaho. When they learned that Interstate 80 and U.S. 50, the two major roads through the Sierras, were closed by snow, they consulted their map and sought suggestions for alternate routes at several convenience stores.
Ultimately, they decided to try a series of state and county roads. One is known by locals to be unpaved and closed in winter.
Their pickup got stuck the night of Dec. 29 in deep snowdrifts east of Vya, a virtual ghost town. Enveloped in a blizzard, the couple decided to remain in their truck hoping another motorist would pass. They waited four days and not a soul came by, though they heard planes pass overhead.
With only the fruitcake, cookies and some prenatal vitamins as nourishment, they grew desperate. Sunday morning, the family set out on foot in waist-high snowdrifts. Clayton was bundled in several layers of clothing and a sleeping bag, and James and Jennifer wore sweatshirts and coats - but only tennis shoes on their feet. Neither had any special survivial training.
"We had to decide whether to stay put and die, or do something and die," James Stolpa said.
They trudged eastward, hoping to reach Nevada 140. They tried to soothe the crying baby by placing him inside a garment bag, attaching it to his father's belt and dragging him like a sled.
Through it all, "Jim kept up the faith," Jennifer Stolpa said. "I'd get so tired. Each time we went around another boulder I'd see the highway wasn't there and I felt I couldn't go on."
She said she managed to keep walking only because "Jim kept telling me, `We're not doing this for me, we're not doing this for you; we're doing it for our baby.' "
Eventually, they spotted a cave in a sheer rock cliff and decided to spend the night. They used a diaper bag and sagebrush to kindle a small fire, but it didn't last long.
The next morning, the couple agreed James would have to continue the search for help alone. He stretched the garment bag across the mouth of the cave to keep out the wind and set off. "I gave her a kiss . . . and I promised her I'd make it," he said.
During his trek, Stolpa said he frequently heard coyotes. When it was "just one or two," he would ignore them. When there seemed to be more, "I'd sit down in the sagebrush and hide myself." During those stops he took catnaps, 5 minutes or so, "to rest my bones."
Stolpa headed for Vya, walking all day Tuesday and throughout the night. About 11 a.m. Wednesday, a county road worker spotted him about a quarter-mile from the tiny outpost, believing the dark spot in the snow was a cow escaped from a pasture.
The road worker took Stolpa home and summoned help while his wife used a blowdryer to thaw the ice blocks encasing his feet.
Back at the cave, Jennifer Stolpa tried to keep from losing hope.
"I was worried, I was just praying to God Jim would make it," she recalled. "I've never prayed more."
Dusty Ferguson, who plows the county roads around Vya, was one of three rescuers who found Jennifer and Clayton, only 15 minutes before dark. The five-hour hunt was aided by footprints occasionally visible in the snow and by a coat James Stolpa had hung on a bush.
"I . . . reached down and she gave me the baby," Ferguson said. "Then she gave me a big hug and said, `Thank God you found me.' "