Tuesday, September 8, 2020

Stories from the woods ... part 2

I find it interesting how whether or not I am outside or not has a huge impact on my perspective on being alone. Sitting at home I'm constantly aware of the fact of being alone if no one is in the house with me. But put me knee deep in a stream or walking thru a forest and I'm most comfortable alone. I don't ever think "oh, I'm alone", its just the natural state of experiencing the outdoors for me.  By myself I see things, rare wonderful amazing things that only reveal themselves when other people aren't around. Two people obviously make twice as much disturbance just walking, heck just breathing and putting the scent of humans out there to spook wild critters. And that's not even counting that I'm convinced it's nearly impossible for two people to do something without at least one of them feeling the urge to talk. All of which means I'm less likely to see deer or squirrels or turkey, not to mention if I'm busy talking and interacting with another person I'm going to miss little wondrous things like an owl hidden back in the branches of an evergreen or the beautiful designs on the bark of a sycamore. I'm just more connected to the land and open to experience when I'm alone.

But this does come with a price. That price is my personal safety. If something happens there is no one there to help, or to go for help, or even call 911. I bring all this up because of an incident that happened just the other day. I had permission to hunt ginseng in a woods that sat at the back of a very large farm. There was no great way to get to this woods once all the fields were planted without fighting an awful lot of briars and thicket. Unless I came at it from the opposite side. I parked right at daylight along the bike trail. I walked probably a mile up the bike trail then up a creek into the back side of the woods I desired to explore. But this meant the farmer wouldn't know if I didn't come back out on time. I also just got out of the car shouldered my daypack and headed out without putting a note in the car telling where I was going. And I hadn't told Brenda before leaving the house. All of this comes back to me now after the fact. 

Anyways up the creek I went. Then over a little ridge and up a steep little hollow. The hollow was really steep, in places impossible to navigate without holding on to trunks of small trees as you went. And surrounded on each side by vast corn field. Just the kind of extremely out of the way place you might stumble upon a hidden pocket of ginseng in. And sure enough, by mid morning I had a pocketful and was finding more. In front of me a small gully was cut into the side of the ravine. Way too deep to cross easily and the main holler was almost cliff like here. I had to search for a bit to find a way across. A deer trail angled down to a spot that though steep seemed crossable. I eased down the steep path till I was almost at the bottom of this gully. Its maybe five or six feet to the bottom and I stumble, catching my foot on the wire from a piece of old fence that had washed down from up above. I try to catch myself with my other foot and it too catches in the wire and I fall the five or six feet to the bottom. There are several broken limbs sticking up and I fend off one which kind of flips me and the broken end of another catches me flush right in the side of my head above my left ear. 

The next thing I know I am sitting up stunned in bottom of this small gully. My head had hit the branch so hard the branch was broken off and there was dried blood on the side of my head. Dried blood, how long had it been? Just moments or an hour? I honestly don't know. I crawled over to a tree and sat back against it piecing together what had just happened and thinking about all the mistakes that had put me in such a dangerous predicament. 

In five decades spent outdoors, most of that alone I can think of only one other time that scared me as much as this incident did. A few years ago I was wading a river. It was a several day float trip and I had just pulled up on a random rock bar to make camp. So again no one knew exactly where I was. I hastily  made camp and hurried to the river to fish as darkness began to settle on the river. On the far bank some kind of game fish was herding bait against the shore and busting into it. Time and time again frightened minnows flushed out of the water. I eased closer and closer to get near enough for a cast till I was over waist deep in the river when it happened. I stepped and my foot went between two big rocks wedging itself in tightly. And I mean tightly, try as I might I could not free myself. And I was chest deep in the middle of a river as night was falling. A bit of panic set in. Just how long could I stand up in the current I wondered. I struggled some more, no go, I was stuck fast, I couldn't even slip my foot out of it's shoe it was held so tightly. Finally I caught my breath ducked underwater and felt around. These rocks were too big for me to budge. I thought for a bit longer then ducked under again and began stacking stones. If nothing else I'd try and make a pile to sit on till whenever someone happened along sometime tomorrow. But this gave me an idea. I piled a couple flat rocks atop each other and placed my free foot up on top. This gave me leverage. Pushing with all my might with my free leg, extending it like I was using a leg press machine at the gym I pulled my other foot free taking off a huge area of my hide and my shoe in the process. I ducked under again found my shoe still in the crack between the rocks. By now it was completely dark as I stumbled back to shore. 

After that I never wade without a knife, usually a solid sheath knife. That way if I'm ever tangled on any underwater debris I can cut myself loose. It would have worked even in the above situation too if I hadn't been able to free myself like I did. Looking back I could have worked the blade of the knife between my ankle and my shoe and sawed myself out my shoe. I'm convinced anyone wading or kayaking or canoeing should take a clue from scuba divers and carry a knife to free themselves with. And as soon as I got home from the ginseng woods I went inside and found a small notebook and pen to stash in the car to jot down where I'm going and leave on the seat or dash. 

Obviously there is no way to eliminate all risk in life. People have slipped on a spill in the kitchen and hit their heads and died. Accidents happen. And to be honest I hope when I go I hope it's a sudden accident out backpacking or fishing rather than a slow lingering affair in some hospital bed. I just don't want it to happen anytime soon I guess....






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