First off, hope everyone is doing well this hunting season... stay safe.
I also posted on Long Range Hunting... but I'll also post here cause I want to encourage people to use trekking poles, and make sure you have a way to contact help in an emergency.
I drew a muzzleloader elk tag that opened Oct 1st. The first day scouting we found a 340-350" bull. We spent the next 3 days watching them and trying to pattern them. Opening morning came and quickly went from excitement to what was one of my lowest lows. 5 minutes into the hike in for the opener in the dark, I broke my lower leg.
Now, I'll actually go into detail.
Going into this hunt I had trained well, and was in the best shape of my life. A buddy that lived close to the unit had scouted for me and I headed to his house to stay the night then we headed out 4 days before the season opened. Very quickly we found elk in areas that he had seen, but it was *all* the elk he had seen. A very nice bull with main beams about 52-53" long had managed to amass a very large herd. With about 140 elk in the herd, and the big bull, plus 2 other shooters that were 310-320 we were both very excited.
My buddy Cory took off for two days to go back to work, and I just kept watching these elk every day to pattern them. Two days before opener the land owner in the bottom of the field where the elk were bedding at night came and talked to me. Him and his son have quite the history with the big bull. Apparently its got at least one broadhead in his neck from them. He asked if I was going to try to push them and I said no, and wished him luck going after that bull the last day of his archery tag. We were hunting from the top where its public, and drop about 1600' of elevation to get to where the elk were. Little did we know an adjacent landowner lets people access this area thru there land, which would have *really* saved me a lot of pain, agony, frustration, and ultimately sadness.
October 1st comes, and Cory comes back to meet me and we head up the hill in the SXS. With only one tag and one muzzle loader, we split gear and started heading down the hill. To start we had to side hill about half a mile to a ridge, then find our way around cliff faces to drop the 1600' to our "interception point". Its pitch black and we are hiking in the dark...
Mistake #1: I had my headlamp on its dimmest setting to conserve the battery life, which is pretty darn dim and made it hard to see the detail of the side hill thats covered in sagebrush and fist sized rocks.
Mistake #2: I don't use trekking poles. If I had, I would have easily caught myself. Once recovered, you won't catch me out without trekking poles.
About 5 minutes into the hike, I take a step with my uphill foot (side hilling) and step on a stick of sagebrush on the ground that is wet. That foot (my left) begins to slide down it the second that I put my weight on it. I try to catch myself with my right foot but as soon as I pull my foot up it catches on a piece of sagebrush. My left foot slides down further, and catches a little branch which starts my ankle to roll. With no way to catch myself I come down with all my weight (205 lbs plus a 30lb pack) this folds my foot 180 degrees until it bottoms out on my leg. I roll forward, look back at my buddy and say "I f'ed up, I'm done"
I heard three distinct sounds when it happened. A loud crack like a large branch breaking, a dull thump, and another quieter sharp crack. I called it the "snap crackle pop" at the ER. Cory asked if it was just sprained and I said definitely worse than that. He went back to the SXS while I laid there contemplating what had just happened. He was able to get the SXS within 100 yards of me and he came back down and took my pack, and I made my way straight up the hill to the SXS, using my two hands and hopping my good leg. Once I made it to the SXS that was the worst I've felt in my life. The adrenaline wore off. I was super nauseous, dizzy, and the pain finally started to hit me. I drank a little bit of water and we started the 12 mile SXS ride down the hill.
The bouncing of the ride was pretty bad. my foot was about 30 degrees angled compared to my knee position and the jostling of the rocky road was super painful. I left my boot on to "keep everything in place" and keep the swelling down. We drove to Idaho Falls and went to the ER. They did a quick X ray and said my Fibula was broken, and just did a quick triage on my leg. I was able to drive home the next day, and get an appt with a specialist here in North Idaho.
The doctor took a look at the X rays, and said I am having surgery the next day. My Fibula was broken lengthwise across about 2". The bottom of my tibia was broken close to my ankle joint, and I had torn the ligament that holds my ankle side to side.
Surgery went well, and I now have some gnarly scars. I also have an 8" long titanium plate on my Fibula, and 10 total fasteners holding everything together.
This could have been so much worse. What if I was alone? I would have been on my dirtbike, which I wouldn't have been able to start, let alone shift. What if we were halfway down to the bottom? The area we were in wasn't in the middle of nowhere. We were able to self rescue easily, but my fiancee now has some new hunting rules for me as far as hunting alone.
Here's some photos... I honestly thought I only had a small incision on each side of my foot. It was crazy when they pulled the temporary cast off.
Ken
I also posted on Long Range Hunting... but I'll also post here cause I want to encourage people to use trekking poles, and make sure you have a way to contact help in an emergency.
I drew a muzzleloader elk tag that opened Oct 1st. The first day scouting we found a 340-350" bull. We spent the next 3 days watching them and trying to pattern them. Opening morning came and quickly went from excitement to what was one of my lowest lows. 5 minutes into the hike in for the opener in the dark, I broke my lower leg.
Now, I'll actually go into detail.
Going into this hunt I had trained well, and was in the best shape of my life. A buddy that lived close to the unit had scouted for me and I headed to his house to stay the night then we headed out 4 days before the season opened. Very quickly we found elk in areas that he had seen, but it was *all* the elk he had seen. A very nice bull with main beams about 52-53" long had managed to amass a very large herd. With about 140 elk in the herd, and the big bull, plus 2 other shooters that were 310-320 we were both very excited.
My buddy Cory took off for two days to go back to work, and I just kept watching these elk every day to pattern them. Two days before opener the land owner in the bottom of the field where the elk were bedding at night came and talked to me. Him and his son have quite the history with the big bull. Apparently its got at least one broadhead in his neck from them. He asked if I was going to try to push them and I said no, and wished him luck going after that bull the last day of his archery tag. We were hunting from the top where its public, and drop about 1600' of elevation to get to where the elk were. Little did we know an adjacent landowner lets people access this area thru there land, which would have *really* saved me a lot of pain, agony, frustration, and ultimately sadness.
October 1st comes, and Cory comes back to meet me and we head up the hill in the SXS. With only one tag and one muzzle loader, we split gear and started heading down the hill. To start we had to side hill about half a mile to a ridge, then find our way around cliff faces to drop the 1600' to our "interception point". Its pitch black and we are hiking in the dark...
Mistake #1: I had my headlamp on its dimmest setting to conserve the battery life, which is pretty darn dim and made it hard to see the detail of the side hill thats covered in sagebrush and fist sized rocks.
Mistake #2: I don't use trekking poles. If I had, I would have easily caught myself. Once recovered, you won't catch me out without trekking poles.
About 5 minutes into the hike, I take a step with my uphill foot (side hilling) and step on a stick of sagebrush on the ground that is wet. That foot (my left) begins to slide down it the second that I put my weight on it. I try to catch myself with my right foot but as soon as I pull my foot up it catches on a piece of sagebrush. My left foot slides down further, and catches a little branch which starts my ankle to roll. With no way to catch myself I come down with all my weight (205 lbs plus a 30lb pack) this folds my foot 180 degrees until it bottoms out on my leg. I roll forward, look back at my buddy and say "I f'ed up, I'm done"
I heard three distinct sounds when it happened. A loud crack like a large branch breaking, a dull thump, and another quieter sharp crack. I called it the "snap crackle pop" at the ER. Cory asked if it was just sprained and I said definitely worse than that. He went back to the SXS while I laid there contemplating what had just happened. He was able to get the SXS within 100 yards of me and he came back down and took my pack, and I made my way straight up the hill to the SXS, using my two hands and hopping my good leg. Once I made it to the SXS that was the worst I've felt in my life. The adrenaline wore off. I was super nauseous, dizzy, and the pain finally started to hit me. I drank a little bit of water and we started the 12 mile SXS ride down the hill.
The bouncing of the ride was pretty bad. my foot was about 30 degrees angled compared to my knee position and the jostling of the rocky road was super painful. I left my boot on to "keep everything in place" and keep the swelling down. We drove to Idaho Falls and went to the ER. They did a quick X ray and said my Fibula was broken, and just did a quick triage on my leg. I was able to drive home the next day, and get an appt with a specialist here in North Idaho.
The doctor took a look at the X rays, and said I am having surgery the next day. My Fibula was broken lengthwise across about 2". The bottom of my tibia was broken close to my ankle joint, and I had torn the ligament that holds my ankle side to side.
Surgery went well, and I now have some gnarly scars. I also have an 8" long titanium plate on my Fibula, and 10 total fasteners holding everything together.
This could have been so much worse. What if I was alone? I would have been on my dirtbike, which I wouldn't have been able to start, let alone shift. What if we were halfway down to the bottom? The area we were in wasn't in the middle of nowhere. We were able to self rescue easily, but my fiancee now has some new hunting rules for me as far as hunting alone.
Here's some photos... I honestly thought I only had a small incision on each side of my foot. It was crazy when they pulled the temporary cast off.
Ken
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