03/06/2026
“The old saying was, ‘If you come back without your jump gear from a fire, you don’t have a job.’ What the hell are the consequences of coming back with no jump partner or any of his gear!?’” –Tom “Troop” Emonds (Cave Junction-1966) and the day he lost Mouse
After knocking down a small two-man fire in a tangle of lodgepole and Ponderosa pines outside Redmond, Oregon, Troop Emonds and Allen “Mouse” Owen (Cave Junction-1970) shouldered their heavy packs for the four-mile packout to the nearest road.
The map pointed them straight across a flat lava field. The alternative was a much longer slog through a maze of lodgepole blow-down. For Mouse, just 4 feet, 10.5 inches tall and 110 pounds, scrambling over downed timber with a heavy pack was difficult. It would make his packout twice as long.
Troop took the lead as they picked their way across the lava bed. As they hiked, they swapped stories from their days as Marines in Vietnam. Mouse, who some have compared to the comic genius of Robin Williams, kept Troop in stitches with tales only a fellow Marine could appreciate. (Mouse, a former Recon Marine, served three tours in Vietnam.) “I think he intentionally did that because he knew laughing would slow me down.”
Troop continues: “Finally, I told a story. I went on and on, and when I got to the point where I expected a laugh, I didn’t hear anything. I turned around. Mouse was gone!
“We were in the middle of the lava field. I could see miles in all directions with no views obstructed by trees or vegetation. Everything was flat. Mouse was not a practical joker. He would not be hiding from me just to be funny. He. Was. Gone!
“I didn’t want to take off my pack but wanted to figure something out. So I sat down, fell backward, of course, and ended up looking at the sky. I didn’t see any UFOs that could have beamed him up.
“I took my pack off and started a system of yelling and gridding. I had a Pulaski with me that I used as a walking stick-probe device. About an hour had passed since I noticed Mouse gone. I was just standing there leaning on the Pulaski, when I heard a rock fall. I yelled for Mouse and heard the slightest noise. I started moving some rocks and discovered an upside-down boot.
“It was Mouse! He had tripped into a steep, deep depression. The heavy pack pinned him upside down at a really steep angle. His hard hat protected his head, but the pack prevented him from getting out. The more he moved, the more rocks slid down and locked him in. He was trapped and covered. His yells were muffled under his heavy pack and the spaces between the rocks.
“I was SO happy to see him! He, on the other hand, was really annoyed with himself for not being able to get himself out of that predicament. I kept telling him that had I fallen into the one hole, there is no way I could have done anything to get out from under that pack or somehow do upside-down push-up movements to push the pack uphill with rock atop of it and plenty of side drag.”
A very happy and relieved Troop (he didn’t have to worry about losing his job anymore) hauled his grumbling friend out of the pit. As they hoisted their packs, Troop tried to cheer Mouse up: “Tell me about the time you were deep in the jungle, lying motionless and camouflaged in leaves, evading armed NVA after they found the fresh elephant p**p you had slid into, with large leeches looping hungrily toward you . . . I mean, compared to that, getting buried by Oregon lava rocks sounds like a hell of a vacation, right?”
Excerpted and condensed from Smokejumper Magazine, April 2001. Comment from Walt Wasser about the photo that shows Mouse and a pack on his back: "I believe it [the pack] was 110 lbs. The picture was taken at the back dock of the old McCall smokejumper loft."
