Continued: Out of the woods, hikers tell of trek

DULUTH -- Three days overdue in the northeastern Minnesota wilderness Thursday, the two women had lost their map and their way, and their food cache was down to a few handfuls of trail mix and chocolate chips.

But Duluth co-workers Maria Jacenko and Grace Knezevich said they were still warm and dry, still had a compass and are convinced they would eventually have walked out of the woods on their own if a helicopter search crew had not spotted them, waving from a ridge.

"I knew we'd make it out one way or another because we were headed east and would have hit the Gunflint [Trail]," Knezevich said

Jacenko, 42, and Knezevich, 23, met reporters Friday at the Benedictine Health Center, a senior citizens' care facility where they work. They discussed what went wrong on their hike of the 40-mile Kekekabic Trail, how they went missing and how they survived. Pinned to their shirts were yellow ribbons like the ones their co-workers wore during the three days they were missing, a group gesture of faith that the women would be found.

Jacenko, a physical therapist, and Knezevich, an assistant nurse manager, said they too had faith they'd be OK, because they were experienced hikers and campers, had good gear, and kept their heads.

After planning and even physically training for their hike, the two friends set out Friday from a trail head near Ely. John Siebenand, who lives with Jacenko, had agreed to pick them up about 3 p.m. Monday on the Gunflint Trail.

Well-equipped

The two said they knew they were in for a challenge but felt up to it. They had a good tent and rain gear. They had wool socks and underwear to keep them warm even when wet. Jacenko had a 50-pound backpack. The smaller Knezevich had one weighing 35 pounds. They had an adequate supply of food, a good compass and a durable map tethered by lanyard to Knezevich's pack.

The Kekekabic may be the most rugged and difficult hiking trail in Minnesota. It's named after a lake near the trail's halfway point. The name derives from an Ojibwe word meaning "hawk-cliff lake," according to a 1996 trail guide written by Angela Anderson and Martin Kubik. The trail was constructed in the 1930s to provide access to fire towers, which were dismantled after the U.S. Forest Service began using planes to watch for fires.

A group of volunteers now maintains the trail under Forest Service rules, which mandate only hand tools and minimal markers or signs.

After the historic 1999 "blowdown" and subsequent fires, portions of the trail are more difficult to follow than ever. Jacenko said they passed such places during the first day and temporarily lost the trail, but found it again using the compass and map.

On Sunday morning, on a high outcrop near the halfway point, they got a cell-phone signal -- the only place on the trail where that's possible -- and called Siebenand to say they were running about two hours behind schedule, so he should expect them on the Gunflint at 5 p.m. Monday, not 3 p.m.

Ordeal begins

Then disaster struck. Near Howard Lake -- three-quarters of the way into their hike -- they discovered that map had been ripped free from Knezevich's pack. Knezevich said the loss of the all-important map made her feel "a little bit of panic," but she was reassured to see that the trail ahead was visible, and she only hoped it would stay that way. But that was not to be. On Monday, on a difficult section of the trail near Bingshick Lake, they lost the trail and couldn't find it again. From that point on, they traveled by compass bearings alone, working their way east.

Missing their rendezvous time that day made them worry, they said -- not for their safety but for their loved ones' peace of mind.

"I can only imagine what goes through your mind when you expect somebody to exit a trail and they don't," Jacenko said. Still, knowing panic would do no good, they kept their heads, hiking carefully east by day and pitching their tent next to a fire at night.

When they hadn't arrived at the eastern trail head by Tuesday morning, Siebenand notified authorities, and the search was on. Several pairs of forest rangers traveled the trail on foot, while at least four aircraft searched from above. Jacenko said they could hear the aircraft and occasionally see one. Though they waved and tried to stick to higher ground to be more easily seen, aircraft passed nearby several times without seeing them.

Help from above

By Thursday morning, food was running low. They had three teaspoons each of hot chocolate, a packet each of dry instant coffee and some dried mango. Once again, they broke camp and headed east.

Just after 3 p.m. that day, a Minnesota State Patrol helicopter spotted them waving. Knezevich said she was elated to see the chopper turn and set down on a peninsula about 200 yards away. "I knew we'd be home that night," she said. The pair said they were "astonished" to learn that dozens of people had been looking for them and news crews were waiting at the trail head to see if they'd be found. They were amused to learn that a co-worker had feared they'd been eaten by wolves.

"We just want to say thank you very much to everyone," Jacenko said at Friday's news conference.

Would they try it again?

Yes, both said, adding that they'd pack a spare map.

Larry Oakes • 1-218-727-7344