In early autumn 2021, two sisters from Portland, Oregon, set out on what was meant to be a simple weekend camping trip. Nina Harlo, 27, and her older sister Rebecca Harlo, 29, were experienced hikers who had grown up exploring the trails of the Pacific Northwest. They told their mother that they planned to camp in the Gifford Pinchot National Forest, near the Lewis River Trail, a moderately trafficked route known for its waterfalls and dense evergreen canopy. They expected to be home by Sunday evening, September 12, 2021.
When Monday morning arrived and neither woman appeared for work, their mother, Patricia Harlo, contacted the Skamania County Sheriff’s Office to report them missing. What followed became one of the most disturbing cases in the forest’s history, beginning as a routine search and ending with a discovery so unusual that investigators struggled to explain how two women could vanish for 3 months and be found alive, unconscious, and tied to a tree deep in the wilderness.
On the morning of September 10, 2021, a parking attendant at the Lewis River Trailhead observed a silver Honda CR-V arrive around 8:30 a.m. Two women stepped out, wearing hiking boots, rain jackets, and daypacks. The attendant later testified that they appeared calm and well prepared. They signed the visitor log, noting a 2-day loop along the lower Lewis River Trail that connected to smaller backcountry paths. Their handwriting was steady, their intentions clear.
The sisters planned to camp near Bolt Creek, a quiet area several miles into the forest where the trail narrows and the tree cover thickens. Patricia later told investigators that her daughters were cautious and responsible. They always carried extra food, a first aid kit, and a satellite communication device. That device was never activated.
At 6:47 p.m. on September 10, Patricia received a brief text from Rebecca confirming they had reached their campsite and that the weather was holding. Cell tower records showed this was the last communication from either sister. By Sunday night, when no further messages came through, Patricia grew uneasy. Calls went straight to voicemail, but poor reception in the forest made this unsurprising. When Monday passed with no sign of them at work, her concern turned to fear.
Nina worked as a graphic designer at a marketing firm in Portland. Rebecca was a kindergarten teacher at a local elementary school. Both were known for punctuality and reliability. Neither had requested time off beyond the weekend. By 10:00 a.m., Patricia drove to the sheriff’s office and filed a formal missing-persons report.
The case was assigned to Deputy Lawrence Finch, a veteran officer with more than 15 years of search-and-rescue experience. He immediately noted the absence of any distress signal from the sisters’ satellite device. If they had encountered trouble, it should have been triggered automatically. The lack of activation suggested either that they had not perceived danger or that something had prevented its use.
The search began at first light on September 14. Forest rangers, volunteer search teams, and K-9 units gathered at the trailhead under the coordination of the sheriff’s office and the United States Forest Service. The initial objective was to retrace the sisters’ planned route and locate their campsite near Bolt Creek. Clear weather allowed for aerial surveys, but the dense canopy of Douglas fir, western hemlock, and red cedar limited visibility from above.
Ground teams moved methodically, checking trails and undergrowth for footprints, broken branches, or discarded items. By midday they reached a clearing near Bolt Creek that showed signs of recent use: a fire ring with charred wood, flattened ground where a tent might have stood, and impressions in the dirt consistent with hiking boots. There was no tent, no backpacks, and no equipment.
Forensic examination suggested the fire ring had been used within days, though no fire had been lit recently. Searchers expanded outward in a grid. K-9 units briefly picked up a scent trail that faded near a rocky slope. Divers searched calmer stretches of the Lewis River. Nothing was recovered. After a week involving more than 200 volunteers, the active search was scaled back. The case remained open, but without new leads, large-scale operations could not continue.
Weeks passed. The sisters’ vehicle remained at the trailhead, untouched. Inside were spare clothes, personal items, a cooler with melted ice, and a road map with the route highlighted. Everything indicated a normal, planned trip. As autumn turned to winter, the forest grew cold and inaccessible. Snow covered higher elevations, and hope quietly eroded.
By December, the search had gone cold in every sense. Temperatures dropped below freezing. Patricia Harlo continued coordinating with missing-persons organizations and volunteers, refusing to let the case fade. Candlelight vigils were held. Rebecca’s students made drawings that hung in the school office. Yet the unspoken assumption grew that the forest would one day yield remains, not survivors.
On December 14, 2021, the forest revealed something else entirely. A wildlife biologist named Gordon Pace was conducting an elk migration survey roughly 4 miles northeast of the Lewis River Trail. Moving off trail through dense old-growth forest, he noticed what he first thought were mannequins: two human figures upright against a massive Douglas fir, motionless, heads slumped forward.
As Pace approached, he realized they were women, bound to the tree with thick nylon rope. Their arms were pulled behind them around the trunk. Their legs were tied at the ankles and knees. Both were unconscious, their clothing torn and filthy, their skin pale and chapped. Pace immediately used his satellite phone to call emergency services, reporting his GPS coordinates and emphasizing that the women appeared alive but unresponsive.
He was instructed to check for vital signs without untying them. He found faint, irregular pulses in both women. They were alive.
Within 90 minutes, a helicopter and ground teams reached the site. Snow and dense undergrowth made access difficult, but Pace’s coordinates guided them directly. Responders found the women still bound upright, their bodies slack. Their hands and feet were swollen and discolored from restricted circulation. Their clothing hung in tatters, exposing bruises, scratches, and what appeared to be insect bites.
Paramedic Jennifer Whitmore later stated that the sisters looked as though they had been through a war. Their faces were gaunt, lips cracked and bleeding, eyes sunken. What struck responders most was that, despite being unconscious, both women were still standing, supported only by the ropes.
After checking vital signs, responders administered intravenous fluids and carefully cut the bindings. As the ropes were removed, both women collapsed and were caught by paramedics. They were airlifted to Legacy Salmon Creek Medical Center, where trauma teams were waiting.
Medical assessments were grim. Nina and Rebecca were severely dehydrated, malnourished, and hypothermic. Their core body temperatures hovered just above life-threatening levels. Each had lost an estimated 30 to 40 lb. Deep ligature marks encircled their wrists, ankles, and torsos, consistent with prolonged restraint using nylon rope. Pressure sores and skin breakdown suggested they had been bound without relief for days or weeks.
Despite the severity of their condition, both women survived. Doctors struggled to explain it. News of the discovery spread rapidly, and questions followed immediately. Who had done this? How had they survived? Why were they still unconscious?
The site was secured as a crime scene. Forensic teams documented the tree, the ropes, and the surrounding area. Boot prints with a heavy tread pattern led away from the tree before disappearing into rocky ground. Deputy Lawrence Finch was reassigned as lead investigator, and the case was reclassified as a potential abduction, assault, and attempted murder.
At the hospital, both sisters remained unconscious for days. Medical staff stabilized them slowly, administering fluids and warming blankets, correcting electrolyte imbalances, and treating infected restraint wounds. On December 17, Rebecca began showing signs of consciousness. Doctors delayed any interview, warning that premature questioning could cause harm.
On December 19, Rebecca awoke fully. She cried when told she was safe and that her sister was nearby. Her first whispered words were, “Where is he?” The question unsettled everyone in the room. When pressed, she became agitated and was sedated.
Nina regained consciousness the following day. She asked immediately about Rebecca and wept when told she was alive. On December 21, both sisters were deemed stable enough to speak with law enforcement.
Deputy Finch and Detective Laura Grimshaw interviewed Rebecca first, with a counselor present. Rebecca described setting up camp on September 10, cooking dinner, and going to sleep around 10:00 p.m. Sometime during the night, she awoke to the sound of the tent zipper. A bright flashlight blinded them. A calm male voice told them not to scream.
She could not see his face, only his silhouette. He appeared tall and broad-shouldered and held what looked like a knife. He ordered them out of the tent and bound their hands with zip ties. He forced them to walk through the forest for at least an hour, then restrained them with nylon rope at a makeshift camp.
The man did not assault them, but he kept them bound day after day. He gave them minimal water and small amounts of food. He spoke rarely. Weeks passed. He moved them twice, deeper into the forest each time, tightening restraints and preventing them from sitting or lying down for long.
Eventually, he brought them to the large tree where they were found. He tied them more securely than before and left. Rebecca recalled Nina whispering that she loved her before she lost consciousness.
Rebecca described the man as white, likely in his 40s or 50s, with a thick beard streaked with gray, wearing heavy outdoor clothing and work boots. His eyes, she said, were cold and empty.
Nina’s account, recorded the following day, matched Rebecca’s in nearly every detail. She added that the man knew the forest intimately and carried little equipment, suggesting extensive wilderness experience or military training. He moved them frequently and concealed their tracks. When she once asked why he was doing this, he replied, “I just wanted to see how long you would last.”
Investigators assembled a joint task force including local detectives, FBI agents, and state forensic specialists. A composite sketch was created and distributed. Tips poured in, most unhelpful. One significant lead came from retired forest ranger Donald Keer, who recognized the sketch as resembling a reclusive survivalist he had encountered in the area.
That lead pointed investigators to Vincent Lel, a 52-year-old man with a history of illegal camping and trespassing. His appearance matched the sketch. He had served in the U.S. Army in field reconnaissance and had lived off the grid near Carson, Washington.
A postal worker later reported seeing a man matching Lel’s description walking along Forest Road 43 on December 24. On December 28, law enforcement launched a search of the area. After hours of tracking, they found a concealed campsite beneath a rocky overhang. Inside was a backpack containing maps, supplies, and a digital camera.
The camera held photographs of Nina and Rebecca at various stages of captivity, timestamped from September 11 to December 9. Notebooks found at the site contained clinical observations about their physical and psychological decline.
Late that night, thermal imaging detected a heat signature moving through the forest. Officers pursued a fleeing figure, eventually cornering and arresting Vincent Lel without resistance.
Lel was transported to the Skamania County Jail and interrogated the following afternoon. He waived his right to an attorney. Calm and detached, he confirmed that he had taken Nina and Rebecca from their campsite and held them for 3 months. He described his actions as an experiment, motivated by curiosity about human endurance.
He explained that he controlled food, water, exposure, and restraint conditions, documenting everything. He denied seeing his actions as wrong, comparing himself to a scientist observing animals. When asked why he abandoned the sisters, he said the experiment had concluded. He assumed they would die shortly after he left.
Lel was charged with aggravated kidnapping, first-degree assault, and attempted murder. His trial took place in spring 2022 in federal court. Nina and Rebecca testified, describing months of restraint, starvation, and psychological torment. The prosecution presented photographs, notebooks, and forensic evidence. The defense argued mental illness, but experts testified that Lel understood his actions and took steps to avoid detection.
The jury returned guilty verdicts on all counts on April 14, 2022. Lel was sentenced to life in prison without parole on each count, to be served consecutively.
In the months that followed, Nina and Rebecca underwent extensive physical therapy and trauma counseling. Patricia Harlo became an advocate for missing-persons awareness and wilderness safety. Both sisters eventually returned to their professions, carrying the lasting effects of their ordeal.
The forest where they were held has returned to silence. The tree where they were found still stands, an unmarked witness to what occurred there. For those who know the story, it remains a reminder that even in familiar places, danger can hide, and survival can depend on endurance, chance, and the refusal to let go.
