Tell us your story. Here's one memorable event:

On Fourth of July weekend at Lake Colchuck, we awoke to six inches of snow. With freezing high winds, it was sleeting sideways. Mountains create their own weather.

Hiking out in the storm, my boyfriend and I came upon a Forest Service ranger lying beside the trail. Dressed in a wet T-shirt and shorts, she was shivering violently and gasping for air. Her mother-in-law dithered around uselessly.

“Why can’t she breathe?” I asked. “She forgot her asthma inhaler and a jacket,” her mother-in-law replied.

Quickly I gave her two puffs from my emergency asthma inhaler (always in my pack). Although the ranger could breathe, she had hypothermia. I dragged her under a tree to get out of the storm. Asked my boyfriend to boil water and shield her from onlookers.

I pulled extra clothes from my pack. She was about my size. Quickly I pulled off the ranger’s wet clothes. I dressed her in long underwear, rain pants, a turtleneck, sweater and down jacket. Made her a makeshift raincoat from a large plastic sack. Gave her my hat and gloves, since I had a hood.

Pouring hot tea down her throat, we fed her candy for energy. Although she was reviving, she was still groggy and stumbling. Two teenage boys came running up the trail.

“Do you guys have a cell phone?” I asked. “This woman is in serious medical trouble. She has hypothermia. Please run back down toward the trail head. As soon as you get a signal, call 911 and ask for an ambulance. Tell them we will meet the ambulance at the trail head in 2-1/2 hours.”

Off they went. Nice boys.

I had her mother-in-law carry my pack. Holding the ranger’s arms over our shoulders, we carefully sidestepped down the steep, rocky trail. There was a sharp drop-off on one side of the trail. The ambulance was waiting at the trail head.

“Can I get your name and address?” the mother-in-law asked as the ranger was being tended in the ambulance.

Later, I got a beautiful letter from that ranger. She returned my clothes.

“Thank you for saving my life,” she wrote. “I thought I could run up to Lake Colchuck like I do every day. I knew better than to go unprepared. I feel embarrassed to tell my work colleagues what a stupid thing I did. I will never forget your kindness.”

Photo: Lake Colchuck (6,000 feet) with Dragontail Peak (9,000 feet) behind me. August 2010.