Caught in a Mudslide! The story of how we barely escaped

September 27, 2024. The World Race had sent a team to the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina. They woke up early, groggy-eyed in a wooden cabin nestled among towering trees soaked by the rain of Hurricane Helene.

The day was supposed to start at 10 a.m. By 8:00 a.m., the storm’s grip had tightened. Winds howled in the trees. Rain punched the rooftops. And then—boom. The cabin doors flung open.

“Everyone out. Now. Head to the dining hall.”

In minutes, the team shoved what they could into their backpacks—wallets, phone, toothbrush, cereal. They ran uphill, soaked and shivering, to the dining hall where the entire World Race squad huddled, wide-eyed, watching the woods. Giant trees were falling behind the building.

The Smack That Split the Mountain

Around 9:10 a.m., the team waited. Mitch stood by the window.

Suddenly, he yelled out, “GUYS. TREE. MOVE!!”

The earth groaned—and a thunderous crack snapped through the mountain. It wasn’t just a tree. It was a living skyscraper of bark and leaves, uprooted by wind and water, plummeting toward the shelter.

SMACK.

The tree pierced the dining hall, shattering roof beams like toothpicks.

Screams. Cries. Chaos. People scrambling, some barefoot, some slipping in mud, everyone scared out of their minds.

They bolted out of the room.

The Escape

Water was surging underfoot like a river, thick as soup. Six feet of mud pulled at our shoes. Girls were screaming. Trees cracked like gunshots. It was like the apocalypse.

Marshall took point. The sprinted through the rain, toward high ground.

The dining hall was split open. The east wing obliterated. The bathroom—flattened. If anyone had gotten up to go to the bathroom, they wouldn’t have made it.

The Should Be Dead

The team sat on a hill, crying. Not just from fear, but from the reality: they could have died.

They huddled close, trembling in the cold, draped in mud and silence. The only noise was the rain, and the cracking of trees that hadn’t fallen yet.

No phones. No signal. No way out.

Kate had jumped from the dining deck in panic—her ankle twisted badly. But she was alive. They all were. The cabins were crushed. The hill behind them—washed out. The creek? Now a raging flood. 911 never came.

Crossing Over

Eventually, men from the retreat center came. They tied a rope across the torrent that had once been a trail and helped the team climb down through what now looked like a scene from The Revenant. Water everywhere. Feet slipping. Heart pounding.

And then they were out. Safe. Cold. Exhausted. Alive.

No one had phones. No passports. No service. Most of the team’s personal items were gone, swallowed by the mud.

But they had each other. They had breath. And most of all—they had proof that God still does miracles.

“Why Weren’t We Crushed?”

They asked themselves that question a hundred times as they sat in the emergency shelter. There’s only one answer.

God wasn’t done with them yet.

The team realized “we are here for a reason.” Called. Protected. Saved—not just from death, but for purpose.

Maybe it’s to share the story. Maybe it’s to go out into the world and remind people that when the mud rises, when the winds scream, when everything seems ready to collapse—He is still in control.

Debriefing

Debriefing the team they realized this lesson: “We have to trust the One who sees what you cannot. Who wakes you early. Who pushes open doors. Who says, “Run now.”

He is not done with you yet either.

We may feel buried—but we are breathing.

And that breath is a miracle.

God has done so much to redeem the devastating impact of Hurricane Helene. This week 115 volunteers are working to put families back in their homes. Every week more volunteers more arrive – over 2,000 in all. They are part of Adventures.org‘s commitment to help restore the homes of 500 families in the Swannanoa Valley.