In a dramatic testament to both human endurance and expert rescue skill, 46-year-old Ryan Wardwell of Long Beach survived two days trapped in a cave behind a roaring waterfall deep in the southern Sierra’s granite river canyon. Known as the Seven Teacups—a series of tumbling waterfalls in Sequoia National Forest—the location’s beauty conceals its fierce danger. Wardwell’s extraction required a high-stakes helicopter hoist deep inside the canyon on the western slope, where he emerged bone cold and soaked through.

Wardwell embarked Sunday with four friends, intending to rappel the cascading granite falls, each ranging from 15 to 30 feet high. The Seven Teacups attract canyoneers who prize the stair-step descent, but this year’s unusually high Sierra snowpack swelled flows to treacherous levels, turning once manageable waters into unpredictable torrents. Capt. Kevin Kemmerling of Tulare County Sheriff’s Office describes the perilous pools below the falls, especially the ominous "toilet bowl"—a swirling vortex known for deadly eddies that can trap and drown.

After scouting the upper cascades, Wardwell's friends wisely opted out upon seeing the swollen currents. Wardwell, experienced and confident, pressed on solo with ropes, harness, helmet, and supplies. As his friends retreated two miles back to the trailhead, concern grew. When Wardwell didn’t return by Monday, a handwritten note on his vehicle sparked a missing person call.

Search teams deployed a helicopter and drone over the weekend, identifying Wardwell’s ropes clinging above the notorious hole but unable to mount a safe rescue as daylight faded. Early Tuesday, a drone flew through a narrow gap, spotting him sheltering in a dark cave behind the waterfall—cold, exhausted, and soaked but responsive.

Wardwell’s ordeal began when he released his ropes mid-descent and the river’s powerful current swept them away. Attempts to swim across the roiling hole failed, pushing him back into the cavern. The cold water and damp darkness offered no reprieve. As Capt. Kemmerling explains, "There was no way for him to warm up or dry out in there, so it had to have been miserable."

The rescue was precisely executed by California Highway Patrol’s flight officer Mike Crane, who hovered within 50 feet of the riverbed canyon, lowering a rescuer on a hoist. Inside the cavern, Wardwell was secured, and the helicopter slowly lifted him into safety. Crane recalls the moment: "He was fatigued but really relieved and thankful."

Kemmerling offers two critical lessons from this survival story: never attempt such risky terrain alone, no matter your experience; and always understand the water’s flow before entering. At heightened levels, the Seven Teacups turn from adventure playground to lethal trap. Visitors must read the water carefully—if caught in the toilet bowl’s grip, survival chances plummet.

This story serves both as a celebration of resilience and a sober reminder that nature demands respect. The Seven Teacups offer breathtaking challenge, but only for those prepared to listen to every whisper of the powerful current.