Wilderness survival Please read this
Snake River Marksman
10/13/10 1:20pm
I don't know if I posted on this before but I'll do it again anyway.
One Bad Night
On October 18, 2007 my neighbor and I decided to canoe across the Snake River in order to reach a particular bench to go elk hunting. Our reasoning was fairly simple, there were two ways to reach that bench, the first was to hike over a 1000’ high ridge and back down. It’s not a particularly bad hike, but packing an elk back up and over, in several trips is a whole lot of work. Canoing across the river is much easier and should have been simple. The sheer inaccessibility of that bench is what spurred us on. Outfitters hunt that bench, but from the top down. We reasoned that those outfitters would push elk right to us.
It was two hours before dark when we loaded the canoe in the back of the truck along with all of our other gear. We planned on spending two nights across the river. The planned crossing point was 200yds upstream of a rapid in the river known as Champaign because of the bubbles that come up from the 90’ deep pool below the rapid. The rapid is short and narrow and has some very complex currents running through it. Regional dive teams come to that pool and rapid to train because the bottom cannot be reached because of the maelstrom of currents in it.
First dumb mistake: We underestimated the current velocity going down into that rapid. It had been mixed rain and snow all day and the river had risen a couple of inches. The river swept us into that rapid and dumped us over on the first submerged rock.
Second dumb mistake: we weren’t wearing life vests. If you’ve ever been caught in a front loading washing machine, or failing that, if you’ve ever been tossed about by surf at the ocean, you’ve got a pretty good idea of what going down that rapid, underwater, and then into the pool below was like. If you’ve never done either of those things, trust me when I tell you it is a highly disorienting experience. The undertow in that pool is fierce, I could see my gear floating above my head, just out of reach, but I couldn’t get anywhere near it. The river kept me under till I simply could not hold my breath any longer. Just as I was about to give up, I fought just a tad longer and the river let me go and I was able to make the surface and breathe. Drowning is not pleasant. It’s scary beyond words. I tell you this now: I am alive today only because it was not my day to die. Period.
Third dumb mistake: We were only going 50yds across the river so there was no need to tie everything into the canoe like I’d been taught oh so many years ago as a boy scout. There’s about a thousand dollars worth of gear at the bottom of the river that proves I’m wrong.
Survival Phase
I’ve studied wilderness survival. I’ve practiced it under controlled conditions. I’ve prepared for it by carrying the gear and (I thought) preparing my self for it mentally.
I was wrong!
I ended up on the wrong bank of the river. As luck would have it, Billy ended up on the right side of the river. It’s a good thing or we both might have died. Simple as that.
My personal survival kit was in my jacket pocket. It floated out in the rapid. ATTACH YOUR SURVIVAL GEAR TO YOUR PERSON. Or you won’t have it when you need it. IN YOUR PACK ISN’T GOOD ENOUGH. My old boyscout pack is in the river somewhere and it has lots of survival gear in it too!
I had my fixed blade knife, my pocket knife my GPS, my cell phone (totally useless in the canyon even if it hadn’t been waterlogged) I was wearing 8” insulated leather hunting boots, light wool socks. Jeans (worse than useless when wet). A cotton T-shirt. A 50/50 poly/cotton sweatshirt and a polar fleece 200 jacket with hood. The boots, socks, sweatshirt and jacket were the only things still insulating me since I was soaked to the core. Without a fire, I’d have froze to death before the morning came. I’ve used the friction method to make fire before, but remember it was mixed rain and snow all day. Everything was soaked.
So, Billy flagged down a car, and called out search and rescue to come get me. I did shallow knee bends to keep the blood flowing and the core temp up. In the time it took for the first SAR guys to get to the site I ran the gammut of emotions. Survival is a highly mental game. You can't believe how mental it is until you're there. And I knew that people were coming for me. It took about two hours for SAR to get the boat up to me. I’d lost about 3 degrees core body temp. Things start to get really dicey when it drops 5 degrees or more.
Survival works best when you learn and live. I was afforded the opportunity to live and learn.
Incidentally, our good friend is the River Manager for the forest service. In talking to him about the incident, he stated that asides from the boneheaded move of not wearing the life jackets, our plan wasn’t really flawed. It was just bad luck. He and a co worker took a raft down the river the next day (wearing drysuits) and were able to recover my canoe, but that was all, despite a considerable amount of my gear having been stored in a dry bag.
This type of incident affects you deeply. I recently went “tubing” down a small stream with my family and I felt some trepidation getting into the water. It was only knee deep for the most part. I don’t like being cold at all now.
One Bad Night
On October 18, 2007 my neighbor and I decided to canoe across the Snake River in order to reach a particular bench to go elk hunting. Our reasoning was fairly simple, there were two ways to reach that bench, the first was to hike over a 1000’ high ridge and back down. It’s not a particularly bad hike, but packing an elk back up and over, in several trips is a whole lot of work. Canoing across the river is much easier and should have been simple. The sheer inaccessibility of that bench is what spurred us on. Outfitters hunt that bench, but from the top down. We reasoned that those outfitters would push elk right to us.
It was two hours before dark when we loaded the canoe in the back of the truck along with all of our other gear. We planned on spending two nights across the river. The planned crossing point was 200yds upstream of a rapid in the river known as Champaign because of the bubbles that come up from the 90’ deep pool below the rapid. The rapid is short and narrow and has some very complex currents running through it. Regional dive teams come to that pool and rapid to train because the bottom cannot be reached because of the maelstrom of currents in it.
First dumb mistake: We underestimated the current velocity going down into that rapid. It had been mixed rain and snow all day and the river had risen a couple of inches. The river swept us into that rapid and dumped us over on the first submerged rock.
Second dumb mistake: we weren’t wearing life vests. If you’ve ever been caught in a front loading washing machine, or failing that, if you’ve ever been tossed about by surf at the ocean, you’ve got a pretty good idea of what going down that rapid, underwater, and then into the pool below was like. If you’ve never done either of those things, trust me when I tell you it is a highly disorienting experience. The undertow in that pool is fierce, I could see my gear floating above my head, just out of reach, but I couldn’t get anywhere near it. The river kept me under till I simply could not hold my breath any longer. Just as I was about to give up, I fought just a tad longer and the river let me go and I was able to make the surface and breathe. Drowning is not pleasant. It’s scary beyond words. I tell you this now: I am alive today only because it was not my day to die. Period.
Third dumb mistake: We were only going 50yds across the river so there was no need to tie everything into the canoe like I’d been taught oh so many years ago as a boy scout. There’s about a thousand dollars worth of gear at the bottom of the river that proves I’m wrong.
Survival Phase
I’ve studied wilderness survival. I’ve practiced it under controlled conditions. I’ve prepared for it by carrying the gear and (I thought) preparing my self for it mentally.
I was wrong!
I ended up on the wrong bank of the river. As luck would have it, Billy ended up on the right side of the river. It’s a good thing or we both might have died. Simple as that.
My personal survival kit was in my jacket pocket. It floated out in the rapid. ATTACH YOUR SURVIVAL GEAR TO YOUR PERSON. Or you won’t have it when you need it. IN YOUR PACK ISN’T GOOD ENOUGH. My old boyscout pack is in the river somewhere and it has lots of survival gear in it too!
I had my fixed blade knife, my pocket knife my GPS, my cell phone (totally useless in the canyon even if it hadn’t been waterlogged) I was wearing 8” insulated leather hunting boots, light wool socks. Jeans (worse than useless when wet). A cotton T-shirt. A 50/50 poly/cotton sweatshirt and a polar fleece 200 jacket with hood. The boots, socks, sweatshirt and jacket were the only things still insulating me since I was soaked to the core. Without a fire, I’d have froze to death before the morning came. I’ve used the friction method to make fire before, but remember it was mixed rain and snow all day. Everything was soaked.
So, Billy flagged down a car, and called out search and rescue to come get me. I did shallow knee bends to keep the blood flowing and the core temp up. In the time it took for the first SAR guys to get to the site I ran the gammut of emotions. Survival is a highly mental game. You can't believe how mental it is until you're there. And I knew that people were coming for me. It took about two hours for SAR to get the boat up to me. I’d lost about 3 degrees core body temp. Things start to get really dicey when it drops 5 degrees or more.
Survival works best when you learn and live. I was afforded the opportunity to live and learn.
Incidentally, our good friend is the River Manager for the forest service. In talking to him about the incident, he stated that asides from the boneheaded move of not wearing the life jackets, our plan wasn’t really flawed. It was just bad luck. He and a co worker took a raft down the river the next day (wearing drysuits) and were able to recover my canoe, but that was all, despite a considerable amount of my gear having been stored in a dry bag.
This type of incident affects you deeply. I recently went “tubing” down a small stream with my family and I felt some trepidation getting into the water. It was only knee deep for the most part. I don’t like being cold at all now.
3,632
Kevin
I have been given grief for hauling some of the stuff I always have with me but to me it is a easy burden to bare.
I think it is great to hear this kind of story for the shear sake of reminding us all how quick it can happen when we play in those great places we all love so much and how mighty and majestic Gods creations truly is.
Glad your here, stuff can be replaced. 10sign: