hikers

Aug. 20 (UPI) — The remains of two Belgian hikers who went missing in 1992 were found in the area a melting glacier in Switzerland.

The bodies of the two men, who were 39 and 41 years old when they disappeared, were found on the Trift Glacier, police said Wednesday.

A hiker discovered the bodies on July 26 in the Valais canton in the Swiss Alps near the border with Italy.

The bodies were sent to the Institute of Forensic Medicine at Valais Hospital in Sion, Switzerland, for identification.

“A direct comparison of DNA profiles has formally established that these are two mountaineers who went missing in the Weissmies region in 1992,” a police statement said. “Due to the retreat of the glaciers, it happens again and again that the mortal remains of people who disappeared in the mountains several decades ago come to light.”

The two men began their hike on Sept. 4, 1992, from the Weissmies hut to climb to the summit of the Weissmies mountain, 13,179 feet high. They made it to the Almagell hut, about 9,494 feet up. But they never reached the top due to poor weather conditions.

Teams searched the area several times after they were lost. They found a backpack, but not the hikers.

Valais police keep records of people reported missing in the mountains and rivers of the area dating back to 1925. As glaciers have begun to melt due to climate change, ice is exposing the bodies of climbers who went missing decades earlier.

Last year, the body of a Swiss climber who disappeared in 1994 was found on Ober Gabelhorn mountain in Valais.

Growing up in a hiking family with a history along the Appalachian Trail, I became obsessed this summer with 91-year-old Dale “Greybeard” Sanders’ attempt to recapture his record as the oldest person to complete the more than 2,190-mile trek across 14 states. Known as “thru-hikers,” these backpackers walk the entire trail within a 12-month period. Each week, I’d search online for videos showing Greybeard’s journey, a pep in his step or the grueling grind across the miles. The current recordholder, M.J. “Nimblewill Nomad” Eberhart, who knew my parents, achieved this feat at age 83 in 2021, taking the honor from Greybeard, who set a record at age 82 in 2017. I wasn’t surprised to learn the two men were close friends; they even look alike, with their long white beards and sparkling eyes.

But Monday morning this week, with only 142 miles remaining, Greybeard announced he was heading home for rest in Tennessee. He’d spent a night in a Maine hospital due to complications from a fall and then learned his mother-in-law had died. “When it rains unfortunate incidents, it seems to come in buckets,” he wrote in a Facebook post.

These age-defying records and pivots felt personal.

It wasn’t accidental how the Appalachian Trail became my family’s backbone.

When I was about 7, my parents brought my younger siblings and me to Springer Mountain in Georgia, our daypacks filled with cans of Vienna sausages, boxes of raisins, a change of clothes and a sleeping bag.

“If you continue on this trail, you can walk all the way to Maine!” my dad said, pointing northward.

The path felt like a magical forested portal far from coastal Alabama where we lived. As a child, I couldn’t imagine how hiking would shape my parents as they got older: their physical fitness, spiritual connection to nature and access to community — all assets in aging well, according to extensive research. But more importantly, the outdoors would help them, and ultimately me, learn to adapt to change. That’s a survival skill for us all.

With the trail name “Fairhope,” my brother Laurence became the first in our family to complete the Appalachian Trail in 1992, followed by my parents, known as “Annie and the Salesman,” in 1994. Then my sister married a thru-hiker from north Florida.

“Hiking is a walking meditation, a way to carry everything we need,” my mom told me. “We may not leave you much money, but our legacy will be lives of adventure.”

Pursuing a trifecta of long-distance hikes after the Appalachian Trail, my parents completed the Pacific Crest Trail from Mexico to Canada and nearly half of the Continental Divide Trail when I had my own health crisis. An amniocentesis revealed a serious genetic defect in the chromosomes of the child I was carrying — years before the current extreme restrictions on abortion care. When my parents happened to call from a payphone near the trail, I shared my heartbreaking decision to end the pregnancy.

“We’ll find a way there,” my mom said.

I don’t remember much discussion about abortion when I was younger, and I believe the community of young hikers over many years helped shape my parents’ evolving mindsets on many issues (as well as my mom’s newfound comfort cussing with her Southern drawl).

Somehow they hitchhiked to find a rental car and drove cross-country to Warren Wilson College in western North Carolina, where I still live and teach environmental education. This is a work college where all students hold jobs on campus like farmer, fiber artist and genetics lab tech. Like the trail, it’s a place with steep learning curves.

“Sometimes you have to change course,” my mom said, “when you sense the right path to take.” While she spoke, she held my 3-year-old, who would stay home with my dad while we drove more than five hours to a hospital in Virginia.

More than a month after returning to the Continental Divide Trail, my mom came down with a severe stomach virus, which my father caught a few days later. Much like Greybeard’s pivot, they decided to pause the hike. “The trail will still be here, but mom had a feeling it was time to go home,” my dad said.

Less than a year later in 2003, my mother, 58, was killed in a cycling accident, hit by a teen driver in Fairhope, our hometown. With time and a few trial runs, my dad returned to hike for a month on the Continental Divide Trail without her.

“I was never lonely, but I missed her every day,” he said.

In 2005, wearing a reflective vest and biking on the shoulder of the road, my dad, 64, was hit and killed by another teen driver. At their gravesites, we placed two metal sculptures, the “Final Blaze,” gifts from the Appalachian Trail community, many members of whom came to shovel earth upon the graves.

Since then, I’ve corresponded with Nimblewill Nomad, the record holder and caretaker of a hostel at Flagg Mountain, the start of the Pinhoti Trail in Alabama. There he has dreams to create a community where elders who are hikers can live together in the montane longleaf pine ecosystem.

“Your parents’ heart was years ago divinely placed in trust, in a chest — yours,” he wrote to me years after their deaths.

Now 60, I have outlived my mother, and I’m also surrounded by young people — my two daughters and my students — just as my parents were on their long-distance adventures. My undergrads are rightly fearful about the climate crisis but working in community to find their way. They’ve read the research documenting how the outdoors, including urban green spaces, improves cognition, social connection and physical strength, while decreasing depression and anxiety in all ages, but especially seniors. Nature helps humans adapt to change, and not everyone has proximity to it.

My students also know the Trump administration has cut funding for and even decreased the size of our public lands. They’ve met alums with careers in conservation whose federal jobs no longer exist. And we’re still recovering here from Hurricane Helene, a devastating climate disaster almost two years ago.

But what I know for sure, I tell them, is we must join with others to protect both people and places, even when we don’t know how this path will end. That’s my parents’ legacy to me.

While prepping for classes this week, I checked updates from Greybeard, who was home under the care of his physician for exhaustion after the rugged southern mountains in Maine — but he was cleared to hike again and intended to complete the trail. Regardless of the record-breaking deadline of Sept. 6, he’s adapting to a new “finish plan” and shared this truth for us all: “Together we will conquer this seemingly impossible task.”

Mallory McDuff is the author of several books, including “Our Last Best Act: Planning for the End of Our Lives to Protect the People and Places We Love.” She teaches environmental education at Warren Wilson College.

Given the resilience and diversity of our local mosquito population and our warming climate, Los Angeles doesn’t really have an easily defined mosquito season.

That was one of my biggest takeaways — and bummers — from my conversation with Chris Barker, an epidemiology professor at UC Davis who has studied mosquitoes for almost 30 years, including at his lab.

“I hate to say it, but there are mosquitoes year-round,” Barker said, “and in Southern California in particular, many of your mosquitoes are active year-round, and they don’t go through a reproductive pause, so they’re really just waiting on conditions to be right for biting and for development. In that sense, the warmer [weather], the better for the mosquitoes, and the worse it is for us.”

For this week’s edition of The Wild, our weekly outdoors newsletter, I spoke to Barker about how hikers can best avoid nature’s rudest insect this summer. I wanted to understand what common misconceptions hikers have about mosquitoes, any behavioral changes we can make and what types of trails are most likely to have active mosquito populations. (Spoiler alert: It’s a lot of them.)

First, let’s quickly discuss the mosquitoes that you will find in Southern California, as Barker emphasized to me that we shouldn’t just imagine mosquitoes as one bloodthirsty monolith.

“There are many species of mosquitoes that exhibit a wide range of behaviors, and some species never bite people,” Barker said. “Knowing just a little bit of mosquito biology can help a hiker know when and” where to hike.

Types of mosquitoes found around L.A. hiking trails

In California, there are more than 50 species of mosquitoes, living from below sea level in the desert to above 10,000 feet in our mountains, according to the UC Agriculture and Natural Resources.

Thankfully, our local population is smaller than that and includes:

• Three mosquitoes in the Aedes genus: Often dubbed “ankle biters,” the black-and-white-striped female aedes mosquitoes bite during the day, often around the legs, often multiple times; the most prevalent in Southern California, Aedes aegypti, generally lives where people are, as it depends heavily on manmade water sources to lay its eggs; different species are vectors for different diseases, including Aedes aegypti, which can carry dengue fever.
• Six mosquitoes in the Culex genus: Adults are most active from dusk to dawn; they prefer to bite birds but will bite humans; otherwise, they will rest in cool, shaded dense vegetation; the Southern house mosquito in this genus can transmit West Nile.

Culex mosquitoes bite at dawn and dusk and tend to feed off birds. The Southern house mosquito in this genus can transmit West Nile.

(Orange County Mosquito and Vector Control District)

• Anopheles franciscanus: Living in warm sunny pools with algae; not known to carry disease in California; peak biting during dusk and dawn; included in this list to make us all feel a little better, just in case you worry as much as your local outdoors journalist about mosquito-borne diseases.
• Ochlerotatus sierrensis: Also known as “western treehole mosquitoes,” these little jerks lay their eggs in tree holes, especially oaks, laurels and eucalyptus, and emerge in spring, ready to unapologetically ruin your backpacking trip; these mosquitoes will bite in the day and evening, but are especially active at dusk.
• Ochlerotatus washinoi: Also known as “woodland pond mosquitoes,” which makes them sound more charming than they are, these aggressive daytime biters are typically found in floodwater habitats in early spring; not known to carry disease in California.

A quick 101 on West Nile virus

Outside of an itchy bite or, in rare cases, a severe allergic reaction, the most significant health threat that mosquitoes pose to hikers around L.A. is West Nile virus.

West Nile virus is typically contracted by humans through the bite of an infected mosquito. Most people infected with the virus, an estimated 80%, never know it, because they don’t get sick. About 20% of those infected experience flu-like symptoms, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

Less than 1% develop serious illnesses that affect the central nervous system and usually require hospitalization.

Similar to the lack of clarity around who develops long COVID, scientists have yet to identify why certain people develop serious neurological conditions from West Nile. Advanced age, especially in people 65 and older, is thought to play a role, given that with age, the body’s immune system is slower to respond to threats, according to the National Library of Medicine. Other risk factors are thought to include being male; having diabetes, heart disease or chronic kidney disease; or being immunocompromised, according to research.

In recent years, reported West Nile human cases have typically peaked in early September, according to data analyzed by the L.A. County Department of Public Health. This year, West Nile has been detected in traps and in dead birds across L.A., but especially in Cerritos and Long Beach, according to the Greater Los Angeles County Vector Control District.

Given all that we know now about our local mosquito population and risks, let’s discuss Barker’s tips and tricks for how hikers can best avoid getting bit.

How L.A. hikers can best avoid getting bitten by mosquitoes

People walk in and around the Arroyo Seco.

(Carolyn Cole / Los Angeles Times)

1. Consider what water source is near.

I personally love hiking along the Arroyo Seco or San Gabriel River, where it’s often shady and cooler than other parts of Angeles National Forest. Unfortunately, mosquitoes love those areas too.

Mosquitoes prefer standing water, but not permanent water, Barker said. For certain species, this could be a segment of the river where the water has stopped flowing, leaving a nice warm pool for mama mosquitoes to lay their eggs, or even a small puddle.

“When I go hiking … especially in the mountains, I always look in the rock homes next to the streams that have captured snow melt water as it recedes,” Barker said. “Those rock holes keep water through much of the summer, and if you look in those rock holes, you often see hundreds or thousands of mosquitoes in individual rock holes. They’re the immatures that are still developing and will come out and eventually bite people and other animals in the area.”

I was honestly happier before I knew that.

2. Consider the day’s forecast and its effect on mosquito behavior.

“Often these mosquitoes are biting from late afternoon into early evening — so all the times we love to be outdoors,” Barker said.

Like us, mosquitoes are most active when temperatures are warm but not extremely hot. “On our hot days in the summer, mosquitoes will wait until the late afternoon, evening or even morning periods to bite instead of the hottest part of the day,” Barker said.

That said, if there’s a light breeze or it is windy, you’re far less likely to get bitten, as mosquitoes are thought to only fly up to 1 to 1.5 mph.

Dunsmore Canyon in Glendale.

(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)

3. Take extra precautions on morning and evening hikes.

Mosquitoes are often most active during these time periods — the ideal summer hiking time. As such, Barker advised hikers to wear baggy light-colored pants and hiking shirts, so that you will remain cool enough under the sun but your skin will be more protected.

You can also pre-spray your clothing with Permethrin, an insecticide that kills and repels mosquitoes.

An Aedes mosquito, commonly called an ankle biter, prefers humans over animals. While Aedes can carry dengue, they do not transmit West Nile virus.

(Orange County Mosquito and Vector Control District)

4. Reapply mosquito repellent.

I generally set a timer for around 50 minutes when out hiking to remind myself to reapply sunscreen, but I rarely remember to reapply bug repellent.

“Most people do kind of a one-and-done application and happily go off and hike, and if you hike for hours, especially if you’re using repellent with either a lower DEET concentration or some other alternatives, you often have to reapply those at more frequent intervals,” Barker said.

Mosquitoes inside a storage container are tested after capture by public health workers for West Nile virus. This particular station is in Pacoima.

(Ronaldo Bolanos / Los Angeles Times)

DEET has long been found to be a highly effective mosquito repellent, but as I reported back in 2024, DEET has a perception problem. Unlike some repellents, it isn’t naturally occurring, which has caused some members of the public to take pause.

“They want something that’s natural. They forget that strychnine [and] ricin are all natural products,” said Walter S. Leal, a UC Davis distinguished professor in molecular and cellular biology, in a 2024 interview, referencing poisons derived from plants. “Being natural does not necessarily mean it is good, and being synthetic doesn’t necessarily mean it is bad.”

Additionally, people often incorrectly associate DEET with the banned insecticide DDT. “This is a big mistake,” Leal said. “There is no chemical similarity between the two.”

The view from a bench at a lookout point near the Saddle Peak Trail in the Santa Monica Mountains.

(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)

5. Try coastal hikes to avoid mosquitoes.

“Coastal environments sometimes have fewer mosquitoes,” Barker said. “In L.A., you have that strong temperature gradient as you move away from the ocean, and things get warmer in the inland areas. Cooler areas slow mosquito development, and you tend to have fewer mosquitoes right along the coast.”

This excludes areas near tidal marshes, like the Ballona and Los Cerritos wetlands, where certain mosquitoes can become “quite numerous” if not controlled by local vector agencies.

The Ballona Wetlands Ecological Reserve in Marina del Rey in 2023.

(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)

The coastal breeze also helps hikes along the ocean — like several routes you’ll find in the Santa Monica Mountains or Palos Verdes Peninsula — have fewer mosquitoes.

“And some of the coastal mosquitoes fly inland to find their blood meal hosts before they come back and lay eggs,” Barker said. “So right along the coast is not a bad place to be from a mosquito-biting perspective.”

Did somebody say Type-O Tuesday?

A Joshua Tree and rocks are lit up by the sunrise at Jumbo Rocks Campground in Joshua Tree National Park.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

6. If weather allows, hike in the desert to avoid mosquitoes.

“There is no real escape from mosquitoes, I would say, except possibly in the deserts in areas with less water,” Barker said. “That’s your best escape in California.”

If you head out to Joshua Tree, this generally means hiking before 10 a.m. and after 5 p.m., as you will otherwise almost certainly get overheated.

7. Be mindful when taking breaks.

It’s harder for mosquitoes to bite you when you’re moving or when there’s a breeze. Keep an eye out when taking breaks, as this will more likely be the time you get bitten. And often where we like to take breaks is where mosquitoes also like to rest.

A field sample of mosquitoes that could carry West Nile virus is seen at offices of the Riverside County Department of Environmental Health in Hemet.

(David McNew / Getty Images)

“Mosquitoes do tend to rest in areas with vegetation or other vertical structures that protect them from harsh conditions like direct sunlight or strong winds,” Barker said. “The female mosquitoes also search for their blood meal hosts in those areas, which include us.

“Unfortunately for us,” Barker added, “they like a lot of the same areas we do.”

3 things to do

A group of hikers at a Just Trek event.

(Victor Martinez)

1. Celebrate community in Malibu
Just Trek, a local hiking community, will host its seven-year anniversary party at 9:30 a.m. Sunday in Malibu. The group will take a two-mile hike and then hang out at a local beach near a seafood restaurant. Donations appreciated. Register at partiful.com.

2. Behold native botany in L.A.
The L.A. Parks Foundation will host From Trail to Seed, a botany-focused nature walk, from 8 to 10 a.m. Saturday at the Fern Canyon Trail in Griffith Park. Botanist Terry Huang and park ecologist Ryan Kinzel will lead the group as they take a moderately challenging route through the park. $20 donation requested. Register at los-angeles-parks-foundation.givecloud.co.

3. Use your nature skills in Baldwin Hills
The Nature Nexus Institute needs volunteers from 8 to 11 a.m. Saturday for a habitat restoration event in the Baldwin Hills. Volunteers must wear long pants and closed-toe shoes. The work site will include traversing uneven terrain. Learn more at the institute’s Instagram page.

The must-read

Jackie the eagle.

(Friends of Big Bear Valley)

Jackie, arguably the world’s most famous bald eagle mama, died Monday morning after a mysterious illness that veterinarians at the Ojai Raptor Center worked hard to combat. She was 14. Jackie and her mate Shadow transformed into avian all-stars after Friends of Big Bear Valley installed live cameras of their nest. Millions of people across the world tuned in to witness the two eagles raise their young and live their lives in our local mountains. That included Anny Liu of Altadena, who started watching Jackie and Shadow and their little eaglets after losing her community to the Eaton fire in 2025. “Jackie and her family gave me hope and gave me giggles and smiles that I thought were lost with the fires,” Liu wrote to The Times via a reader callout. “My heart felt lighter when I watched her even to this day as we try to rebuild. Never in my life did I expect an eagle would help me so much emotionally and mentally.”

May we continue to allow ourselves to feel these deep connections with our animal neighbors, as it leads to us wanting to protect their homes and, in turn, protect our world.

Happy adventuring,

P.S.

Do you want to help repair damage from the devastating fire that burned across Santa Rosa Island? The California Institute of Environmental Studies needs volunteers to help implement emergency fire recovery work on the island, including rolling erosion control wattles on steep slopes to better protect the Torrey Pine forest from erosion caused by winter rains. To learn more, you can email Destinee Rabelo, the center’s restoration ecologist field lead, by using the email linked in the organization’s Instagram post. Have fun out there!

For more insider tips on Southern California’s beaches, trails and parks, check out past editions of The Wild. And to view this newsletter in your browser, click here.

June 20 (UPI) — The National Parks Service announced that three people died this week in two separate heat-related incidents at Grand Canyon National Park.

Park rangers and emergency medical personnel responded to the two incidents, which occurred on June 12 and June 16, and both of which happened while hikers were on trails in the Inner Canyon, NPS said Friday in a press release.

All three of the people were deceased when officials arrived, and they were transported with aerial support to the Cococino County Medical Examiner’s office.

NPS said that trails in the Inner Canyon region, where all three were found, regularly top 109 degrees Fahrenheit during this time of year.

Earlier this month, an 18-year-old hiker experienced heat-related symptoms while hiking a different part of the park and, although park rangers and a helicopter rescue operations found him, life-saving measures were not successful.

“Hiking Grand Canyon can be a challenge for anyone, especially during the heat of summer,” NPS said in the release.

On June 12, a 72-year-old man was found on the South Kaibab Trail, and four days later, on June 16, a 67-year-old man and 68-year-old woman were found on the North Kaibab Trail.

On its website, NPS recommends that people planning to visit the park be aware that the Inner Canyon area of the park during the summer is “extremely strenuous and potentially dangerous due to intense heat, minimal shade and no water sources.”

As a result, Grand Canyon park officials recommend that hikers avoid trails in the area between 10 a.m and 4 p.m., when it is hottest there.

The agency also noted that because of a range of reasons, rescue efforts may not be immediately available.

In addition to carrying sufficient water, food and first aid supplies — and knowing their own physical limits — NPS also warns the hikers in many Inner Canyon locations be prepared to “self-rescue” and have a plan to do so.

“The recent increase in heat-related incidents comes as summer temperature in the Inner Canyon have reached dangerous levels, creating conditions that can quickly overwhelm hikers during the hottest parts of the day,” the agency said in Friday’s release.