ChrisAU
WKR
Going to call this season the season of learning. After rattle snake encounters in WY, truck setup failures, and now this I am more convinced than ever that I’ll never stop learning big lessons at any point in my life.
So this past Friday night I hastily made a decision to backpack into a swamp the next morning to hunt. By far my favorite way to whitetail hunt. I transition my stuff from my day pack to my Exo K4, put my waders in the truck, then dream about the big bucks I’ll kill.
The next morning I’m to my parking spot earlier than ever. The walk in goes super smooth, I find my spot where I cross the Choctawhatchee river in waders easier than I ever have. From my truck to the bank is around 1/2 a mile, but the last few hundred yards you couldn’t even drive an ATV in. There is literally nowhere within a mile of me that a helicopter could land and someone could get to me without swimming. I cross the river then begin walking south along its bank.
I make it a few hundred yards and come to a new tree that has fallen in the river, blocking my usual path.
My trekking pole of choice in the swamp is a Black Diamond Whippet. It’s excellent to hook onto tree roots on creek banks for leverage to get up them. I use it to start beating a path through the briars to get around the tree further up the bank. It’s working well. I’m holding it at the grip, using the end of it to break dead vines.
I lost the Whippet tip cover long ago. Always conscious to keep the point down, I must’ve gotten lazy and let it turn in my hand. After about the 5th whack with it, it feels like it is stuck in the brush. I quickly realize that isn’t the case - the end is free.
I look down, it’s stuck in my shirt sleeve! But why isn’t it moving? Dread sets in. It’s firmly embedded in my arm. I’d later learn over two serrations deep on the blade. It won’t come out. I can’t feel a thing, it was surreal.
My hem of my glove makes it look like it’s much closer to my wrist than it wound up being. I think how stupid am I if this is why I never see my daughter again, standing on the bank of a river in the dark, where it would take a first responder an hour or more to get to me, with a blade buried in my arm. All for a deer.
I can’t get my pack off easily. Or waders. Or get to anything to wrap my arm. My right arm is essentially 5-6 feet long now and my hand is useless. Furthermore I remember that I never transferred my medical kit from my day pack to my K4.
I text my hunting partners, who were already aware of my plan that morning. I tell them I’ve embedded my trekking pole in my arm, I’m about to pull it out and make a run for the truck, and if they haven’t heard from me in 20 minutes that I need serious help.
I set the tip of pole on the ground. The plan once removed from my arm is to rip my pack off and pull out a shirt that is in it to wrap my arm if it starts spraying. If it’s an oozing slowish bleed I’ll grab it with my left hand and start my walk. But I’ll have to use the pole and my good arm crossing the river in the dark regardless.
I take my left heel and kick down on the middle of the pole. It comes out, blood is dripping but no spray. Off to the truck I go.
I get to the truck half an hour later, leaving an easy to follow blood trail the whole way. I get my kit out of my day pack, and realize I’d scavenged all the tape for various things over the years. Hunting buddy pulls up, he also has nothing. I wind up putting McDonald’s napkins on it tied off using flagging tape.
All the gear, all the weapons, optics, outfitted new truck, and here I am in a situation that could’ve easily been much worse and I’m using McDonald’s napkins as a bandage.
I get to the landowners home and they have proper kit. Lot of betadine rinses, gauze, and tape later it has stopped bleeding and still doesn’t hurt. It’s still very early in the morning, none of the local doctors are open yet, and my wife and daughter will be asleep a couple more hours, and I’m still not sure how to explain how dumb I had been to them. So I head back in. Followed my blood trail back. Shot a coyote that was harassing a couple does, but mostly spent the morning thanking Jesus. I knew it could have been much, much worse.
When I get out I head home, change clothes and head to the doc. Tetanus shot, antibiotics, and some glue and steristrips later I’m on my way. I was given the option of stitches and should have taken it, because of course the next day I opened it up a bit while climbing a tree. Oh well, I’ll have the scar to remind me. Still haven’t felt a bit of pain. Doc tells me any farther towards my hand or towards either side of my arm even just 1/4” may have been deadly. Essentially got nothing but meat.
Ordered tons of stuff the last few days to have dedicated medical kits in my truck, both packs, and even my wife’s car now. In October I spent a week in Wyoming wandering around the backcountry with a crap first aid kit. Just unbelievable to me now. I had a tourniquet and quick clot in my kit but not the first piece of tape or gauze. Oh and I ordered 5 of the tip covers from Black Diamond. Will keep them in my pack to replace them as I lose them.
Of note, even though that blade went 3/4” or so into my arm in a cut about that width, it took the Peloton 97 in with it! Didn’t leave a mark on it. Wild!
Anyway, check your kits and keep them on you. Pray to God, but also don’t be stupid like me!
So this past Friday night I hastily made a decision to backpack into a swamp the next morning to hunt. By far my favorite way to whitetail hunt. I transition my stuff from my day pack to my Exo K4, put my waders in the truck, then dream about the big bucks I’ll kill.
The next morning I’m to my parking spot earlier than ever. The walk in goes super smooth, I find my spot where I cross the Choctawhatchee river in waders easier than I ever have. From my truck to the bank is around 1/2 a mile, but the last few hundred yards you couldn’t even drive an ATV in. There is literally nowhere within a mile of me that a helicopter could land and someone could get to me without swimming. I cross the river then begin walking south along its bank.
I make it a few hundred yards and come to a new tree that has fallen in the river, blocking my usual path.
My trekking pole of choice in the swamp is a Black Diamond Whippet. It’s excellent to hook onto tree roots on creek banks for leverage to get up them. I use it to start beating a path through the briars to get around the tree further up the bank. It’s working well. I’m holding it at the grip, using the end of it to break dead vines.
I lost the Whippet tip cover long ago. Always conscious to keep the point down, I must’ve gotten lazy and let it turn in my hand. After about the 5th whack with it, it feels like it is stuck in the brush. I quickly realize that isn’t the case - the end is free.
I look down, it’s stuck in my shirt sleeve! But why isn’t it moving? Dread sets in. It’s firmly embedded in my arm. I’d later learn over two serrations deep on the blade. It won’t come out. I can’t feel a thing, it was surreal.
My hem of my glove makes it look like it’s much closer to my wrist than it wound up being. I think how stupid am I if this is why I never see my daughter again, standing on the bank of a river in the dark, where it would take a first responder an hour or more to get to me, with a blade buried in my arm. All for a deer.
I can’t get my pack off easily. Or waders. Or get to anything to wrap my arm. My right arm is essentially 5-6 feet long now and my hand is useless. Furthermore I remember that I never transferred my medical kit from my day pack to my K4.
I text my hunting partners, who were already aware of my plan that morning. I tell them I’ve embedded my trekking pole in my arm, I’m about to pull it out and make a run for the truck, and if they haven’t heard from me in 20 minutes that I need serious help.
I set the tip of pole on the ground. The plan once removed from my arm is to rip my pack off and pull out a shirt that is in it to wrap my arm if it starts spraying. If it’s an oozing slowish bleed I’ll grab it with my left hand and start my walk. But I’ll have to use the pole and my good arm crossing the river in the dark regardless.
I take my left heel and kick down on the middle of the pole. It comes out, blood is dripping but no spray. Off to the truck I go.
I get to the truck half an hour later, leaving an easy to follow blood trail the whole way. I get my kit out of my day pack, and realize I’d scavenged all the tape for various things over the years. Hunting buddy pulls up, he also has nothing. I wind up putting McDonald’s napkins on it tied off using flagging tape.
All the gear, all the weapons, optics, outfitted new truck, and here I am in a situation that could’ve easily been much worse and I’m using McDonald’s napkins as a bandage.
I get to the landowners home and they have proper kit. Lot of betadine rinses, gauze, and tape later it has stopped bleeding and still doesn’t hurt. It’s still very early in the morning, none of the local doctors are open yet, and my wife and daughter will be asleep a couple more hours, and I’m still not sure how to explain how dumb I had been to them. So I head back in. Followed my blood trail back. Shot a coyote that was harassing a couple does, but mostly spent the morning thanking Jesus. I knew it could have been much, much worse.
When I get out I head home, change clothes and head to the doc. Tetanus shot, antibiotics, and some glue and steristrips later I’m on my way. I was given the option of stitches and should have taken it, because of course the next day I opened it up a bit while climbing a tree. Oh well, I’ll have the scar to remind me. Still haven’t felt a bit of pain. Doc tells me any farther towards my hand or towards either side of my arm even just 1/4” may have been deadly. Essentially got nothing but meat.
Ordered tons of stuff the last few days to have dedicated medical kits in my truck, both packs, and even my wife’s car now. In October I spent a week in Wyoming wandering around the backcountry with a crap first aid kit. Just unbelievable to me now. I had a tourniquet and quick clot in my kit but not the first piece of tape or gauze. Oh and I ordered 5 of the tip covers from Black Diamond. Will keep them in my pack to replace them as I lose them.
Of note, even though that blade went 3/4” or so into my arm in a cut about that width, it took the Peloton 97 in with it! Didn’t leave a mark on it. Wild!
Anyway, check your kits and keep them on you. Pray to God, but also don’t be stupid like me!
