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This whole story just keeps turning in my brain.
I finally went to the Portland Oregonian website and read all the stories and it still boggles my mind.
I saw a little news story on 'Inside Edition' or something where they retraced their exact route. After they left the Denny's at 9:30 pm they passed at least (2) 4'x8' signs with big red warnings 'Road closed in winter. Roads are unplowed.' How can a grown man with a wife and 2 little girls proceed down a basically impassable road at night and drive for 4 hours. (They 'stopped for the night' at 2am) ??? The wife said they had to stop several times to 'remove rocks from the road' so they could get past. I know my wife would have been like 'WTF are you doing??? Turn around'. I read that when he tried to back up he had to open the door because the snow was so deep on the windows. When the door was open the snow came in so they decided to just continue on. Hello, where is your head man? The road that they eventually turned down was supposed to have a gate but didn't. But then they still travelled almost 15 miles. 15 miles on an unpaved unplowed road in the middle of the night in a snowstorm. Come on man, look in the back seat. I don't want to crucify the guy because I'm sure he thought he was doing the right thing, but a Volvo station wagon is not a snowplow. One of the locals said he only would drive down that road in the middle of the summer and even then it was difficult driving.
I try to imagine the desperation he felt after 5, 6, then 7 days with no food. Evidently they built a fire everyday, but the wood was difficult to gather and was frozen. It seems that once stuck, he did an admirable job keeping his family alive and together. But why were you there in the first place. It is not as if your plane crashed or your boat sank and you were marooned through no fault of your own. Can you imagine the tremendous guilt he felt for their predicament?
Imagine the wife. They are stranded in the car for 7 days. Say it again, 7 days. (Most of us cannot go 7 hours.) Little kids, no food, freezing temps, no searchers, no nothing. Finally, she kisses her (insert descriptive adjective here) husband goodbye at 8am as he heads off for help. He says 'I will return by 1pm.' 2 days, yes 2 more days, later he has not returned. She, and virtually every female I know would be panicked, frantic, hysterical, (take your pick). She finally, in what was pure desperation, takes the two girls and heads off into the snow. Then, by what was surely the grace of God, a helicopter appears and spots them. They trudge back to the car where the helicopter can land and are rescued.
The rescuers at that point follow James' tracks in the snow and find him 15 miles, 15 miles!, from the car. When they found his body it was soft and limp. Rigormortis sets in after death and then after about 48 hours goes away. The ME said it appeared he had been dead for two days. IOW, he died the same day he set out for help. So, so, sad. Imagine his thoughts. His mind had to be so clouded by hypothermia he couldn't even think straight.
When you are in pilot training they teach you that it is not usually one big mistake that gets you in trouble, but a series of what don't seem like bad decisions at the time, that do you in. There was only one mistake here, not turning around immediately after realizing that they had missed their turn.
Ego, overconfidence, or the opposite-lack of respect for a dangerous situation. I guess we'll really never know.
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I am just a simple man trying to make my way in the universe...
"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined." - Thoreau
"Nothing great was ever accomplished without enthusiasm" - Emerson
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