Fishing in the Central Valley: The time I escaped death and a life-sized antlion trap

Sometimes I’m amazed that I actually survived some of the crazy situations I’ve gotten myself into. Here’s one.

I was about 18 and my Dad and I went deer hunting in the coast range — with a couple other buddies out of Avenal. The plan was to sweep through a brush-filled canyon, and we hoped drive out some deer ahead of us.

I was going to take the uppermost position on the mountain sweep with each guy placed about 150-200 yards apart below me and staggered down the hill to the base. Great idea on paper, because the terrain looked reasonably accessible on foot from our starting position .

Off we went , each trying to keep on our section of the hill. Before long, reality set in for me as I encountered previously unseen clusters of Impassable manzanita and buckbrush forests hiding in the little draws on the side of the hill. I kept having to try to circumvent these areas by either going above or below each mess.

My trek in the steep overgrown terrain was starting to make me believe that just getting off this mountain was all I wanted to do, when I came over a rise that fell off steeply below me and there were no bushes! The whole thing looked like a perfect funnel — ending in small narrow gap 30 yards below. Maybe I had found a shortcut . That’s when I got myself into big trouble.

I’ve got my rifle slung over my back, and I take my first step over the side onto what I thought was solid ground. The moment my foot touched “the ground” — it completely gave way under me — causing me to suddenly slide down the slope . I’m now just below the top edge of the caldera, spread eagle on the top of what I realize is fairly fine soapstone (super slick stuff) that blankets the whole side of this perfect antlion type trap. You know, those little insects that dig out a perfect sand funnel in the dirt — and then when an ant comes along and slips down it’s slippery sandy side and can’t escape — they end up a meal for the antlion waiting below. I hoped there weren’t any monster antlions waiting below me.

So, I’m on the steep soapstone wall, spread out on all fours trying not to slide any further down the slope . That’s when the truth of my situation hits me. This perfect sandstone funnel about 30 yards across at the top narrows down to a small round opening 60-70 feet below me. I can now see that it ends up going out into space. If I slide any further down this shoot, I probably wouldn’t be able to stop myself going down this deadly slide and over the precipice. I’m now very motivated and scared.

Cautiously moving my arms and legs in a swimming motion, I try to get some traction in the seemingly friction-less soapstone. Maybe I can move a little — enough to move back up the steep bank to reach the edge of the trap and some bushes.

I find it’s futile trying to slowly climb up. Each time I try, I lose a little more ground, like I’m in vertical quicksand.

Funny how clear things can get when you’re pinned to the side of a drop-off you can’t seem to get out of — but that failure to do so — could mean a fatal fall. I tried not to move — stuck for a good 15 minutes. That’s when it happened.

I tried one more time moving my right hand upwards, digging out some of the stones just above me. Just as the unsettled rocks slid down the side I spotted a little glimpse of green! What? It was a small tree root!

Slowly and carefully, making sure I didn’t break my lifeline, I gradually “swam” my way, a little bit at a time, up the side of my trap. Until I finally reached a bush and pulled myself out.

Later, looking up at the side of the mountain, we could see the “sandstone” funnel and where the bottom of it poured out onto a good 250-foot fall. It was a helpless feeling being stuck there!

That root showed up exactly when I needed and it saved me. An accident? Lol! Never give up!