Scariest Backcountry Experiences

[Aldaron]

I don't think we have a thread for this already, but @Nick's post about his self-arrest experience made me think we could post our scariest backcountry experiences.

Post whatever scared you...it could have been in a car, at a trailhead, or deep in the wilderness, as long as you weren't next to a McDonald's when it happened!

I think I have a few...the first one that comes to mind is the time I got lost backpacking in the Middle Prong Wilderness of North Carolina. My wife and I hiked in a few miles from the trailhead and set up camp. It was still early, so after setting up camp we continued on down the trail. After about 30 minutes, it started pouring down rain so we decided to head back to the camp.

An hour after turning back around, I couldn't figure out where we had gone wrong, as we were still trying to find the camp that was only 30 minutes back. The rain was torrential and it was starting to lightning...and we were on top of wide open mountains. I had marked the trailhead in my GPS when we started hiking, but I hadn't marked the camp site. Yeah, I know... I had looked at my paper map while at the camp site, so I knew where we had camped on that map. However, I couldn't pull out that map now because it was raining too hard and we didn't have any shelter. It also wouldn't have helped because the cloud cover was actually below us, so I couldn't see any mountains to use as landmarks to get my bearings with the compass. I had the GPS, but it only told me where the car was...and it was on the other side of a river valley that was 2500 feet of elevation down, and 2500 feet of elevation straight back up again...in thick Appalachian forest while it was nearing dark.

Well, I really felt that I knew where camp was...after all, I have a pretty good sense of direction. So we kept hiking in the direction I thought we needed to go. After another 30 minutes (an hour and a half for what should have only been 30 minutes), the lightning was getting worse, it was still pouring rain, it was getting cold, and we only had 40 minutes of daylight...I was getting worried. I knew something was wrong, but I couldn't wrap my brain around what could have gone wrong, since all I had to do to find camp was turn around from where we stopped dayhiking. How could I have messed that up? We had enough dry stuff for one of us to make it through the night without hypothermia...I was pretty sure. However, there were two of us...I was getting worried.

So I sat down with my GPS and decided to try my luck with finding the camp on the GPS topo map. With lightning dancing literally all around me, I found the trailhead on the GPS, and then I found the creek we had crossed, and then I found the ridge I thought we had climbed, and then I found the spur I
thought we had camped on (of course, the trail wasn't mapped). So I guessed. I made my best guess, marked that point, and told the GPS to take me there. I expected the arrow to point forward and say that I was 100 yards short of the camp. Instead, the arrow pointed behind me, and said I was 1 mile away from the camp. What?!

I decided to trust my map reading skills over my sense of direction, and I followed the GPS. We pretty much ran, because we had a mile to cover in 40 minutes before dark, assuming the GPS was right. When the GPS beeped and said I had arrived at the spot, I looked up, and the tent was 30 feet ahead of me. Man, that was close. We made it with 15 minutes of daylight remaining. But we did make it. If we hadn't made it, I was going to try for the car. It would have been really tough in the dark, though, and I knew the smart thing to do was to get off the mountain and try to build shelter for the night. But, man, that was a scary option.

The next morning I found a faint side trail that had sent me in a circle the day before and looped me back onto the main trail, causing me to head back in the direction I had come. And I also learned to ALWAYS mark the camp site along with the trailhead.

That experience just scared me pretty good because of the cold, the rain, the lack of shelter, and the lack of warm clothes with us. I was really worried about a long night in which hypothermia was going to be a very real threat.

But we got a good sunset out of it!

 

[DAA]

Trying to think of times I have been really scared...

One would be when my buddy Steve rolled his Jeep really bad. I'll skip the long version, but he went over one and a half times and ended up on his lid, sliding down a steep hill towards a cliff, which would have been certain death if he had kept going and gone over it. The way it went down, I was standing there watching it happen and after the first roll he was back on all four wheels right in front of me and starting to go over again and I was absolutely terrified that if he did go over again he'd end up going over that cliff and dieing. It was an endo, end over end roll too, which is quite a bit more violent than a barrel roll.

Another time I was pretty scared was when my buddy Dave fell through the ice at Strawberry. We were ice fishing, and the ice seemed plenty thick - it was at least ten inches right where we were fishing. And we had ridden double on my ATV over a mile across the ice to get there. Had been fishing for several hours, walked all around, drilled a bunch of holes etc. I'm just sitting there watching my pole and from behind me I hear Dave start screaming. I turn around and he's about 50 yards away, up to his armpits through the ice. Just a thin spot, likely caused by a warm spring. Snow cover had hidden it. I was in decent shape at the time, but only weighed about 185 and Dave went well over three hundred. It was clear that he wasn't going to be able to hang on real long as the cold was quickly getting to him, but it was not clear how I was going to A) get close enough to help without going in myself and B) how I was going to pull him out even if I could get ahold of him. I was pretty scared...

I yelled at a group of strangers about 100 yards away and got them to run over. I quickly gave them my game plan and just started executing before they had time to answer. We formed a human chain with four of us and me on the end. A guy held both my ankles and another guy held both his and another guy held both his. Linked up like that I crawled out and took a death grip on Dave's hands and just hung on for all I was worth while the other three guys pulled on me for all they were worth from the other end. I really don't know how I held on to him hard enough to pull him out, but I did. Classic adrenaline situation I guess.


Few other times I can think of where I thought me or a companion just might be checking out that I was pretty scared too...

- DAA

 

[Howells Outdoors]

I would have to say my worst and scariest backcountry experience was in Pine Creek.

The last rappel in Pine Creek, notorious for injury due to lack of judgement and skill, decided to give me a run for my money. Luckily I a slight idea of what I was doing so I had safeties in place and didn't get seriously injured and now one below was injured.

I was rigged up, ready to rappel the drop first and the group that was ahead of us had moved on down the canyon.

If you don't know what the last rappel is like in Pine Creek then here ya go. It's a 100ft rappel and about 80 ft of it is free hanging. To get onto the rappel you have to be rigged up on the rope, feet dangling over the edge, and swing out over the 100ft drop before you are actually on the rope. There is no walking onto this rappel or easing into it. Just swing your butt over this 100ft void and then you're good to go.

It's not unusual to have weird starts like this in canyoneering, and this one isn't really that weird as I've gone into bigger and more advanced canyons.

Well I was all set up to go and I started to work my courage up (first time I had been in Pine Creek) to swing out over the void. As I was getting ready I realized there was a ledge I could stand up on and that would help me be more comfortable. Great Idea!

I stood up and got all my weight on this ledge.

Immediately after I stood up the whole ledge gave out from under my feet.

I fell about 4 feet before my self belay stopped me. I'm pretty I kept my brake hand firm, but I know the self belay worked because I had to get it lose before continuing.

I was fine, but I remember looking at my friend and his facing looking like, "Keith is dead!" Just sheer terror.

I felt it too. I was like, "Get me the F off this rock."

It was terrifying and I'm so glad I learned all the techniques I had learned, because they kept me safe.

 

[HomerJ]

The most scared I've ever been in the backcountry was on my first backpacking trip in the Winds.

We got caught in a wicked lightening storm on an exposed ridge. The biggest thing around was small brush and rocks no bigger than a human. Lightening was cracking and booming all around us, I even saw it strike the lake below us! Someone yelled, 'We gotta get outta here", and we all took off running down the trail to get to the trees at the lake below! It was pretty damn scary!

 

[leatherman]

I'm not sure this was a particularly scary situation, but it certainly could have been or much worse. I was walking along a trail by myself, it was a beautiful sunny summer morning. About an hour into the hike I've stopped to take a break for a few minutes. I put my daypack back on and continue walking when not 15-20 seconds after starting up again I hear this huge crash and turn around to see a pine tree falling down across the trail, exactly where I'd been standing earlier. The tree wasn't dead and it wasn't a windy day, so who knows what circumstances came together to cause the tree to fall right then. It certainly made me pause for quite a while, and realize there are some things you just can't plan for.

 

[Parma]

me and one other guy took 10 scouts to Fox Lake in the Uintas, 5 day trip. one night at about 3:00 am i was awoken by what i thought was a deep growl. naturally i thought, oh crap we have a bear in our camp. i could hear something walking around, and i was pretty nervous. after thinking it would go away, i still heard something walking around. so i thought to myself, i'm going to peek outside my tent and see what happens. i was fully ready to take one for the team and do what i could to get rid of this bear before a scout woke up and freaked...one of the scouts was my own 12 year old son. so i peeked out, about ready to crap myself, and i see my friends dog in the camp! it was sick and puking something up. i totally forgot he brought his dog. i was relieved to say the least and felt pretty dumb.
my heart was racing and i didn't sleep too well the next couple hours.

 

[pixie1339]

I've been fortunate enough to never have any life threatening backcountry experiences. I'm not afraid of being by myself in most situations in the outdoors, either, but last year I had two separate occasions where I had very vivid dreams involving people messing with me in my tent while I was solo camping. When I say vivid dreams, I'm talking about the kind where it feels like you are actually awake and that these things are really happening.

The first was while I was camped at Lower Red Castle Lake last year. I was in bed and became aware that someone was outside my tent, when I heard a bell ringing. It was very loud, and sounded like someone was banging it right next to me. I stayed absolutely still for a while, but the ringing continued. I finally yelled "who is it?" and it stopped. I was unnerved enough that I didn't want to get out of my tent to find out if it was for real or not. Nothing else came of it, so I went back to bed.

The next one happened about a month later when I was camping in Moab. I had recently ordered a Tent Cot and wanted to get it out for it's maiden voyage. I found a primitive site off of a side road of Hwy 313, and went to bed about an hour after I arrived. I had no neighbors nearby that I was aware of. In the middle of the night I again became aware that someone was outside my tent, only this time they were dumping water over my tent. It occurred to me at one point that it could be gasoline, not water. I was absolutely terrified, yet I couldn't move. Burning to death is the way I fear going out most, so that thought was particularly frightening. In the morning I got out and inspected my tent. It was dry on the outside, but quite wet on the inside. Condensation I guess. Maybe the moisture inside the tent is what caused me to dream that. In any event, while I concluded that these incidents were dreams, they were still the scariest experiences I've had in my outdoor adventures.

 

[Scott Chandler]

I had an axe fall on my foot this past summer.

Let me elaborate. I spent my last summer doing trail maintenance in the Frank Church- River of no Return Wilderness and was in a pretty sweet setup. Because the Frank Church is so large and remote, the airstrips that were in the area were grandfathered into the wilderness's plan, and thus myself and my two crewmates were stationed in the wilderness full time. We were thirty miles from a road and three hours from civilization on that road. Very remote. The day before we were to start a trail clearing "hitch" I went out to the tack shed to sharpen my Pulaski axe. We did not have a working vice grip or clamp at the station so we would stick the adz end of the Pulaski into a log in order to hold the tool. This is not the most stable of methods to hold a tool in place, as was evident when the Pulaski fell off the log. At first I just swore under my breath and picked the thing up to try again, then remembered some things. I had gone fishing earlier in the day and my boots had been drying, thus I was sharpening my tool with Sanuk sandals on. The axe had also fallen towards my foot...

Sure enough the axe blade had hit my foot. A foot and a half of gravity and a very sharp tool drove the blade into my foot just below the joint, towards the inside top. When I saw the blood I instantly went into hyper drive. I screamed an expletive like I had never screamed before. I had thirty feet to walk in order to get to the station and I'm fairly sure I made it on shear adrenaline since the pain was crippling later. All gathered around. It was a nasty one. I got to finally use my WFR certification, sadly on myself. After dressing it up we called it into the office. I needed out. Was it life threatening? No he'll live. So it's not serious? Well its bad but he's not bleeding out. We can't get a plane in to pick him up due to winds. He'll have to wait until tomorrow.

Thus began the longest night of my life. Yeah it hurt. Yeah I could not walk, I had to hop like a bloody gimp kangaroo. But worst piece was myself. I knew I messed up and beat myself up for it all night. Was my internship over? Would I have to go home? Would this effect me my whole life? It was bad. Then in the morning I had to make the walk to the airstrip, a good 1/4 mile. The other two were busy hauling stuff up to the airstrip and I wanted them to do their thing, not pity me. So I made the walk. It took half an hour. It hurt, but I found a way to do it without the searing sharp pain it could produce, which was nice.

A good hour later I found myself in McCall ID, my first time in civilization in two months. The lead wilderness ranger picked me up and took me in to the ER. It was a fun four hours. The first was spent having everyone come in and look at the gaping hole in my foot and having everyone say I should have come in sooner. They didn't understand. Then I got X-rays that showed my bones weren't cracked. Then I waited for another one and three quarter hours to then be stitched up. I got inner dissolvable stitches for my muscle and 13 on top to hold my foot together.

Luckily I got to finish my internship. I spent the next two weeks healing and doing "light duty." By the time the next hitch came around I felt good enough to go out. The first days were painful with more walking than I'd done in weeks with a 50lbs pack. I didn't kick a single rock off the trail that hitch. But I was there, and I could help. Now half a year later I have but a scar across my foot. I can run, canyoneer and hike on it so all seems mended. And I learned a great lesson in why PPE is a necessary suggestion.

I'll spare the general public from seeing the injury when it was "fresh" but this is the remains.

 

[DrNed]

Scariest backcountry experience was several years ago me and some friends built skiin on frame kayaks. We had launched from the Hite marina on Lake Powell. We paddled to a small island I'm guessing was about a 1-2 miles away. After exploring this little island the wind starts to pick up and has the feel of rain, so we start heading back. After paddling a short distance back we passed a side canyon. Well that side canyon brought a huge gust of wind to already choppy water and I got dumped.So I'm in the water trying to climb back into my kayak, except everytime I try I'm just letting in more and more water until its submerged. The waves are probably 3 feet. The mistake I made was I didn't put my life vest on correctly. I only had one of the four straps buckled and it wasn't adjusted right for me. I was going under with every wave & swallowing way too much water. There was about :20 minutes where I was in real trouble. The only thing I did right was that I was with someone and he had the throw rope which I held onto with my life. After a time the water calmed down and I got my bearings, the current was taking me the opposite way of what we needed to go, but I kept swimming. I had come real close to abandoning my kayak, but I didn't. After swimming (and being towed by my friend) another 20 minutes or so I noticed I wasn't making any ground. How was I gonna get out of this? There was one other boat trailer at the marina when we went in and I prayed they would come back now and see us. Fortunately they did. They were able to pull me and my kayak out of the water. I couldn't even climb up the ladder out of the water - I had to be pulled up by two guys on the motor boat. I ended up spending almost an hour in the water. My rescue can only be attributed to divine providence.
I tell this story to my kids to teach them the importance of using gear correctly. I doesn't do much good to have the means of keeping yourself alive and not use it properly.

 

[gnwatts]

I guess my scariest moment was not in the backcountry per se. When I was in my mid twenties I did a lot of surf photography in and around Encinitas, Ca. Every now and then we would venture south of the border to some of the breaks (some on islands) in northern Baja. One particular time I was with a friend (who was an excellent surfer) and my wife, at a break we knew of south of Rosarito Beach. I was there to get some shots of him from the water (I had a custom housing for my Canon A1), and to relax and have a nice day at the beach, which was deserted, and quite remote, at least back then. It was a big day, a really big day. Maybe 15-20' + faces and very scary. With my wife in her new bikini on the beach, I swam out and set myself up for some shots. My friend was stoked, I was scared shitless. Because it was way too big for me. So I thought I would get a few shots and then swim in.

Then I heard it.
Aaaaaawhooooooo. My friend was hooting, and paddling hard to get outside, as I looked up I knew I was screwed. I was staring at the largest wave of my life, and I was caught inside. So I had about 20 seconds to get ready as this enormous wall of white water came at me. I had my 10lb camera attached to my wrist, in 52 degree water, and I was alone. The good thing was I knew I was out pretty far and I had some depth in the water to help. I dove down and grabbed the eel grass, amidst all of the rocks found in the reef we were on, and held on. But it was only about 10' deep, and I knew it was not enough. The wave hit me in the middle of the back and i was tumbling, and at that moment the water got inside my wet suit (I had not zipped it up all of the way) and the suit was pulled down, pinning my arms to my side and exposing me to the freezing water. I thought I was going to drown, being thrown about. I kept my cool though, waited for the tumbling to stop, zipped my suit up (no small task) and saw the next wave coming. So I re-surfaced for some air and dove down again, but now I was in 7' of water, and by the time the wave hit me it was a only a few feet deep. I am lucky I did not break something on the reef. This was repeated 4 more times, and I did not think I was going to make it through another. I came up the final time, the water receded, and I was staring at a Coors can in the eel grass, with my wife reading on the beach. Hi honey, she said.
Then I vomited.

The only true scary experience I have had in the backcountry happened one evening camped at Green Mask ruin in Sheiks canyon in Grand Gulch. My friend and I had just finished dinner and I was reading aloud from an excellent book by Anne Zwinger called Wind in the Rock, describing how her guide had recalled a story about Richard Wetherill excavating at this site in the 1890's. They had unearthed a mummy whose stomach had been ripped open, and had been sewn up with chord. Evidently the mummy had a very painful expression on his face. There is a pictograph of this man on the wall next to the ruin, complete with slash across his stomach. Anne and her guide decided to leave at once.
Later that night, both of us were awoken by a high pitched screech, not a human scream, but like a metalic type of non-human noise. This was repeated a few times, we were like "did you hear that?" yeah, WTF? I was in a cold sweat in my bag, and did not sleep at all that night.

 

[Tater Head]

I've been fortunate enough to never have any life threatening backcountry experiences. I'm not afraid of being by myself in most situations in the outdoors, either, but last year I had two separate occasions where I had very vivid dreams involving people messing with me in my tent while I was solo camping. When I say vivid dreams, I'm talking about the kind where it feels like you are actually awake and that these things are really happening.

The first was while I was camped at Lower Red Castle Lake last year. I was in bed and became aware that someone was outside my tent, when I heard a bell ringing. It was very loud, and sounded like someone was banging it right next to me. I stayed absolutely still for a while, but the ringing continued. I finally yelled "who is it?" and it stopped. I was unnerved enough that I didn't want to get out of my tent to find out if it was for real or not. Nothing else came of it, so I went back to bed.

The next one happened about a month later when I was camping in Moab. I had recently ordered a Tent Cot and wanted to get it out for it's maiden voyage. I found a primitive site off of a side road of Hwy 313, and went to bed about an hour after I arrived. I had no neighbors nearby that I was aware of. In the middle of the night I again became aware that someone was outside my tent, only this time they were dumping water over my tent. It occurred to me at one point that it could be gasoline, not water. I was absolutely terrified, yet I couldn't move. Burning to death is the way I fear going out most, so that thought was particularly frightening. In the morning I got out and inspected my tent. It was dry on the outside, but quite wet on the inside. Condensation I guess. Maybe the moisture inside the tent is what caused me to dream that. In any event, while I concluded that these incidents were dreams, they were still the scariest experiences I've had in my outdoor adventures.

I feel kind of weird when I click on the like button for any of these posts. For the record I don't really like any of them. Just reading this one made heart beat faster. SERIOUSLY GASOLINE...

 

[pstm13]

I walked up on a rattle snake in a lava flow last summer near Burley. My wife and I tried and failed to find some caves. It was coiled and rattling just a few feet away. I damn near wet my shorts. I will never go into a lava field again in the summer.

 

[HomerJ]

I had to hop like a bloody gimp kangaroo.

LOL! Love the visual!

 

[Scott Chandler]

LOL! Love the visual!

Well I had to get out of the cabin to pee somehow.

 

[Dave]

The only true scary experience I have had in the backcountry happened one evening camped at Green Mask ruin in Sheiks canyon in Grand Gulch. My friend and I had just finished dinner and I was reading aloud from an excellent book by Anne Zwinger called Wind in the Rock, describing how her guide had recalled a story about Richard Wetherill excavating at this site in the 1890's. They had unearthed a mummy whose stomach had been ripped open, and had been sewn up with chord. Evidently the mummy had a very painful expression on his face. There is a pictograph of this man on the wall next to the ruin, complete with slash across his stomach. Anne and her guide decided to leave at once.
Later that night, both of us were awoken by a high pitched screech, not a human scream, but like a metalic type of non-human noise. This was repeated a few times, we were like "did you hear that?" yeah, WTF? I was in a cold sweat in my bag, and did not sleep at all that night.

Of course you'd tell that story just days before I'm headed down Sheiks...

 

[Yellowstone 1]

I can't say that this is a backcountry story or a scary story for me, but It scared the hell out of my friend. I got a split gut laughing about it though.

A few years ago a couple friends and I went to Yellowstone on our annual pilgrimage. We were camping at Canyon and had just gotten back from taking pictures of a grizzly that was only 1/2 mile from the campground. The grizzly being so close to camp really had my friend Jeremy concerned if not jumpy to say the least.

When we got back we strolled over to the Canyon lounge for a few drinks. My friend decided that he needed to relax and had a few too many drinks too fast and pretty much left my other friend and I there. About an hour later we headed back to camp and we heard coyotes howling very close to us. On our way back everyone was awake and every single person had to tell us that coyotes were near. "Ok, thanks for the heads up ya'll, we said."

When we returned we decided to harass our friend by shaking his tent. The only problem with that is he wasn't in his tent. We stood there for a couple minutes wondering where the hell he wondered off to. While standing there we could sense a spice in the air, but we could not figure out what it was.

At that moment we heard our friend whispering our names. "Where are you, we asked?" "I'm in the truck, he said." He was in the truck and he had the window rolled down only about an inch or so. "What the hell are you doing in the truck, we said?" He looked at us with glazed over and really red eyes and said "there's fu$%@#^ dogs out there man!" "Yeah, they are just coyotes, we said." "I sprayed them, he said."
"Wait, you bear sprayed the coyotes, I said?" "Yes, they were going to attack me, he said."

Long story short, as soon as he returned to camp and got into his tent the coyotes went through camp. They created shadows because of the lights from the restroom. Already paranoid he pulled out his bear spray and it went off in his tent. He went to get out of the tent so he could breathe and as soon as he opened the door there was a coyote standing right in front of him. He let another burst of spray fly at the coyote and ran to the truck. He unloaded the ENTIRE can on that coyote and in the process he bear sprayed all the neighbors out of their tents.
Something like 15 to 20 people that had inhaled bear spray. The next morning when we woke up the entire side of his tent which was once white was bright orange. Needless to say we decided to offer our neighbors compensation for the incident, but they all declined. I guess they thought if they put up a stink about it we'd bear spray them.

 

[BJett]

Long story, but it was the most epic "adventure" I've had in the outdoors.

"Scary" was short-lived, fortunately, but I will admit for at least an hour I was pretty freaked out...

Red River Gorge, Kentucky, 2001. I was way off trail exploring rock shelters and cliff lines, looking for arches with my girlfriend and another friend. It was summer, early evening and humid with sunlight filtering through the tress...stunning, I recall. I saw a nice wall that looked like it might hold some surprises...on my way up, hiking through a beautiful bed of ferns I feel a sharp pain in my ankle, probably a big thorn I thought. No biggie, off-trail hiking out there always leaves scars...I reach down to pull it out and there's a small copperhead coiled up, not at all happy that I almost stepped on it. Apparently he showed his displeasure by biting me...5 times. What's crazy is that I felt 1 bite, a bee sting is much worse (initially!). Needless to say I screamed rather loudly, pointed to the source of my odd behavior and started to think the worse. What if I'm allergic? How the hell are we getting out of here with nothing but rough terrain, no trails and 20-100' cliff everywhere? As the crow flies we were only 2 miles from a road, but its very slow hiking up and over deadfalls, route finding around cliffs and streams.

My girlfriend at the time was a volunteer at a girl scout camp and was prepared. She sat me down immediately, broke out her Sawyier Extractor Kit and told me not to look. Within a few minutes of the bite she used those suction cups...the pain was much worse than the bite, but in the end it ended up getting enough of the venom out to save me from any tissue damage. I don't even have a scar today from it.
What I did have, just minutes after being bitten, was a left leg swelling alarmingly fast...it was to my knee within an hour. After about 15 minutes of pure terror, I calmed down and we tried to figure out the next step. I had no other effects, not even an elevated heart rate, just swelling so I figured I'd live but it was going to be a loooong night.

My friend was also prepared. He liked to hike with a full backpack just for exercise, and he had a sleeping bag with him that time. Of course it started to rain lightly, but we got a small fire going and I bundled up and chilled out. His phone had just enough juice to dial 911 and he got in touch with the local county sheriffs office. Phones don't work out there, how it did that night I will never know. After trying to explain our location to no avail, she contacted the Forest Service. We were in luck...a ranger was doing trail work a few valleys away and was notified on his radio. We communicated by yelling once he got close enough, and finally he got to us at 8pm...2 hours after the bite. He took one look and called in the rescue team. They couldn't helicopter in because of the dense fog that developed, so they had to get a team to hike in. The first question they asked him..."Is he from Ohio?"...Ohioans are very well known to be responsible for at least 80% of the rescues down there. I said no, I'm local enough and they said they would make it out that much faster
The team got to me around midnite, 6 hours after the bite. At that point the 4 of us are just joking around, normal conversation...me with my balloon leg, not much pain but just intense pressure. My leg finally stopped swelling just above the knee, apparently the biggest danger was how far that swelling would go. And it sucked, but I was very fit (they said that was also a big factor, the healthier you are the the better your chances of having less trauma), had everything I needed and knew I had a great story to tell one day.

8 of them arrived with a stretcher and gear. They asked me if I could rappel, it would save them at least an hour if not more. We spent years rappelling in the Gorge so it was 2nd nature...but never with one leg, off a 70' cliff. It went smooth, they got me in the stretcher and took turns, 4 at a time, hauling me out of some of the roughest terrain in the state. it took them another 5 hours to get me out to the road...2 miles...to an awaiting ambulance. When I got to the hospital, a small town affair well versed in snake bites, they pulled out a glossy card (looked like a Waffle House menu) with a bunch of snakes on it, asking me to identify which one it was. I thought that was pretty funny...if it was a rattlesnake I'd be much worse off, and that is the only other poisonous snake in the region. I pointed to the cobra just for laughs.

2 weeks on crutches with people waiting on me hand and foot, friends stopping by for the story...my 15 minutes of fame!
I couldn't thank those good ole boys from Menifee County S&R enough, they were awesome. They kept asking me how I was doing on the stretcher, and I was more worried about them becoming another victim on that brutal hike out. We talked and joked...apparently I interrupted a pizza and beer affair. A week later I sent them a check for $50, writing "Pizza and Beer party" on the memo. I became friends with the Forest Service guy, and even helped out with some GPS trail work for them.
To this day I have no markings from the bites, and that little guy loaded me up with venom. Sawyier kits are not recommended, but I think because of the fast action...within minutes of the bites...that it saved me from tissue damage.

Side story - They wouldn't let my friends and the Forest Service guy rappel during the rescue, they had to find another way due to liability issues. During that scramble they found an unnamed arch. When the USFS was updating their arch GIS database, I was asked to name it...its called Copperhead Arch.

I now have a tattoo with the Chinese zodiak of the snake on my left ankle.

 

[DAA]

He unloaded the ENTIRE can on that coyote and in the process he bear sprayed all the neighbors out of their tents.
Something like 15 to 20 people that had inhaled bear spray.

Too funny!

Coyotes have sure provided me a lot of camp entertainment over the years, but nothing quite like that!

I have had them silhouetted on my tent before though. Deer hunting in the Book Cliffs about 30 years ago. Three of us in a tent, two of us had killed buck that day and the two deer were hanging from the same big cedar tree the tent was pitched under. The way things were setup, our heads were away from the tent door, but the deer were hanging only a couple of feet past the tent wall near our heads.

Anyway... Woke up in the middle of the night to growling from right against the tent wall right next to my face. In the few seconds it took to come fully awake I had already made out the moon lit silhouettes of two coyotes against the tent wall and knew the growling was only coyotes chewing on our deer. So other than an instant of alarm upon first awakening, I never really got scared. Then one of my buddies woke up too (the other never did - slept through it all...). And the two of us sat there in our sleeping bags just listening to those two coyotes fight over our deer and watching their shadows on the tent wall. The coyotes were not more than four feet from us the whole time and several times brushed up against the tent only inches from our faces. We thought the whole thing was just TOO cool!

After a minute or two though, my buddy asked if we were just gonna let them eat our deer? So I said in a friendly but firm voice - full speaking volume, but without yelling - "git! you sunsabitches!". That was all it took, they were GONE! Like I mentioned, the other guy never did wake up at all, through any of it. And did not believe us in the morning, until he saw where the coyotes had been eating on our deer.

- DAA

 

[gnwatts]

Of course you'd tell that story just days before I'm headed down Sheiks...

Cool.
Say hello to that shreiking anasazi for me (I believe he is to the left of the "breech birth" panel).
You are going in a few day's? It will be pretty icy going down Sheiks, as you are probably aware.

 

[scatman]

Last September while backpacking up the North Fork of the Yellowstone River, I had just finished refilling my water bottle in a side drainage when I hiked up out of the drainage and rounded the corner of an old non-maintained Forest Service Trail to meet face-to-face with a rather large male grizzly bear. He was straddling the trail while looking directly at me not fifteen feet away. Needless to say, my adrenaline level shot up quite rapidly! We stared at each other for about three seconds as I shouted back to my hiking partner who had not rounded the corner of the drainage yet, "get your bear spray out, I've got a grizzly right in front of me." The bear then bolted into the trees and quickly out of site. It took a couple of hours for my heart rate to return to normal!




This image is the location of the encounter along the North Fork.