This story, Night in the Woods,” appeared in the Sept. 1984 issue of Outdoor Life.
“I’m lost,” were the words of despair that I heard faintly on the CB radio as daylight swiftly faded into darkness. Unless you have heard these frantic words from a friend, in a blowing snowstorm at dark, you will never know the feeling of helplessness that immediately descended upon me.
At the time, eight of us were enjoying our annual deer hunt at our friend George Kelley’s camp in Rangeley, Maine, when this unexpected plea for help changed pleasure into worry and concern. Seven of us had straggled back to camp wet and cold from a miserable day’s hunt in a blowing snowstorm. We had changed into dry clothes and were soaking up some heat when I noticed that it was almost dark and Bob, our eighth hunter, had not yet returned. I decided to contact him by CB radio and find out if he was in trouble. This was the start of a hunting story that none of us will forget.
This area was not new to us. We had hunted these woods for years with varying degrees of success, and get ting lost seldom entered our minds. George has a firm and hard rule: Be out of the woods before dark, or at least be sure you know where you are so that you can get out in the dark. Seldom has this rule been broken. It has been stretched a little on the odd occasion, but it hasn’t been broken. This call for help, therefore, had added significance.
Bob is an experienced hunter and a private pilot who is at home in the woods as well as in the air. He always carries a spare compass and enough food and equipment to survive if something unforeseen should happen. We never expected him to get lost. Our initial radio contact with Bob was short and lacked information about his location. We were never able to contact him again. This, of course, left much to our imaginations.
Having retrieved a few lost hunters in the past, we were confident that we would be able to get Bob out of the woods. It was totally dark and snowing harder by the time we dressed and left camp to start our search. Two men were left at camp, one to cook and one to report if Bob returned. By 8:30 p.m., we had used up our expertise in finding lost hunters. We had fired shots every five minutes. George and Jack, both former lumberjacks and knowledgeable woodsmen, had retraced the day’s hunt in search of some sign of Bob’s tracks and on the outside chance that they might hear his signal shots from a new location. At this point, we sent one man to town to request help from the local game warden.
I should have headed back to camp to dry out — but the deer seemed more important at the time.
It was after 9 p.m. when Warden Perry and his partner arrived. They reviewed what we had done and started their search. It was close to midnight, and the wind and snow were still demonstrating their ability to make life miserable when the wardens returned from their search. They told us that they were deeply concerned about Bob’s welfare but that nothing could be gained by continuing the search. Our only consolation was that we had a lot of faith in Bob’s ability to take care of himself, provided he wasn’t injured, and there was no indication that he had been hurt when I spoke with him on the radio. The wardens promised to continue the search at daylight, and we reluctantly returned to camp.
You may be wondering how a veteran hunter who knew the woods could possibly get lost. In this case, using the word “lost” is certainly a misnomer. Bob had a very good idea of where he was but, be cause of snow, darkness, and a number of
unplanned events that he brought on himself, he wasn’t capable of getting out of the woods. If you are like most deer hunters, you would like to know how he survived the night in a blowing snowstorm-just in case you ever find yourself in the same situation.
Although my good friend Bob has suffered much embarrassment and his dignity has been hurt, he has consented to tell what happened. He feels that his experience of spending a night in the woods — in the driving snow — and surviving it may save an other hunter’s life. He also would like all hunters to know that taking things for granted and making assumptions could cost them their life. Here is Bob’s story of survival as he told it to me.
“My reason for reliving this frightful experience of an unplanned night in the woods is to explain how stupid I was for being there and to demonstrate that too many hunters take unnecessary chances just to satisfy an ego trip.
“What started out to be a normal snowy day of hunting turned into a nightmare be cause of pure stupidity. My hunt had been uneventful until about I p.m., when I got lucky and spotted a deer on the trail that I was following. The deer and I saw each other at about the same time-I fired quickly and knew that I had wounded it. I waited for a period of time and then started trailing the deer, hoping that I wouldn’t have to travel too far before I found it. It didn’t work out that way, though. Several times the deer showed signs of weakening. It would lay down, and I would find progressively larger pools of blood. My hopes of finding it increased. I followed the deer through the wind and snow all afternoon — I guess I trailed it for about three miles.
“Sometime around 3 p.m., the deer crossed a raging brook. I thought I recognized the stream and could use it as a land mark on the way back out. If I wanted the deer, I would have to cross the brook. I searched in vain for a downed tree to cross over on, and decided to chance jumping from rock to rock to get across. This was my second mistake. The first was not get ting help to track the deer. I knew the rocks would be slippery, but I had crossed many brooks this way and had gotten away with it. My first two jumps were fine, but on the third one I slipped and landed in the water. I quickly jumped out and felt that I hadn’t gotten too wet. I didn’t realize how wet I was because it took a long time for the water to penetrate my wool pants and seep into my boots. Now, in addition to being wet from the blowing snow and the snow that I brushed off tree branches while I was tracking, my clothes were wet from the brook. I was warm from the exertion of walking, though, and the anticipation of finding my deer, so I continued on. Another big mistake. I should have headed back to camp to dry out — but the deer seemed more important at the time.
“I soon found myself tracking the deer up the side of a mountain I wasn’t familiar with. The deer was staggering and resting more frequently now. I wasn’t about to give up the chase; I was sure that I would find it momentarily. The tracks led to an old logging road on the side of the mountain and I stopped there for a breather. I checked my watch. It was about 4:15 p.m. and I suddenly realized that it was very close to dark. That’s when I decided that no matter how close I was to the deer. it was time to call off the chase and figure out where I was. I knew that I was somewhere north east of camp, but exactly where I wasn’t sure. I had paid more attention to tracking the deer than I had to what direction I was traveling. Another mistake. The only thing I was sure of was that I had crossed the brook and climbed up the mountain. The more I thought about following the brook out, the less sure I was that it was the brook that came out by our camp. Darkness was closing in fast and I decided to fire a couple of shots in the hope that someone was close and would answer. There was no answer. Next, I decided to try contacting my buddies on the CB radio that I carry. I made one short contact with camp and felt sure that my radio wasn’t working properly. I couldn’t hear the camp clearly and gave up. Yet another mistake. Just because I couldn’t hear anything from the men in camp didn’t mean that they couldn’t hear me. In fact, as I later learned, they had heard my call for help. I should have continued transmitting my whereabouts even though I held no guarantees that anyone was receiving. Had I done so, they might have been able to locate me.
“By this time, it was totally dark and I decided that I would walk out by following the brook, using my flashlight and compass. I reached into my pocket for the flashlight and, much to my dismay found that it
wasn’t there. I always carry one. so I frantically searched all my pockets but didn’t find it. Now I knew for sure that I was in real trouble. The snow was six inches deep, the wind and snow kept whipping around me, and I was getting colder by the minute. My wet clothes weren’t helping a bit.
“I don’t know why, but it seemed important at the time to figure out how I had gotten into this situation without a flash light. My mind flashed back to our pre-dawn hunting ritual: getting dressed, breakfast. camp cleanup. and getting into the woods before daylight. Jack had borrowed the flashlight to go to the outhouse, and I had assumed that he had returned it to my jacket pocket. My biggest mistake.
“By this time, I was shivering and knew that there was no way I could get out of the woods without a flashlight. I would have to stay where I was. I needed to get warm and my main concern was to get a fire started.
“When things go wrong, they seem to go from bad to worse. There are no books that tell you how to find dry wood for a fire in the dark. Finding wood at night is hard enough, but finding it when it is covered with snow is almost impossible. I had to crawl in the snow feeling for wood with my hands. With considerable effort. I finally collected enough wood to start a small fire.
“I found a tree that felt like birch and peeled off some bark for tinder. I always carry matches in two or three places and, on checking for them. found that they were all wet from my fall in the brook. I finally found one wooden match in my shirt pocket that was dry. Building a fire in a blowing snowstorm is not one of my major talents, especially with one match. I dried the bark on the inside of my jacket, shielded it well with my jacket and, much to my surprise, got the bark burning and a fire started.
“My small fire was in constant danger of being put out by the snow and wind. and I spent the entire night searching for wood and laying on my belly so that I could blow on the sparks to keep the fire going. I was never able to collect enough wood at one time for a good fire. Not having matches in a waterproof container was another thoughtless mistake.
“Once the fire was started, I thought there would be enough light to put the spare batteries I carry into my CB radio. Because I wasn’t making contact with camp, I felt that new batteries would correct this problem and I could let them know where I was. The feeble light from the fire wasn’t much help. I still had to feel which end of the battery was the top. After installing the batteries, the radio would not work at all. I later found that I had installed one battery upside down. Another mistake.
“Throughout the night, I continued to fire a series of three shots periodically in hopes that someone might hear them and find me. Even if it had been a clear night, it would have been impossible for me to walk out of the woods by following the sound of shots that I thought I heard every so often. The shots seemed to come from all directions. I think the noise from the wind and the brook, even though it was some distance away, helped confuse the direction of the shots.
“Tripping and falling in the dark, my search for wood continued, and I spent a lot of time trying to remember what I was supposed to do to keep alive. I would pray: Please. dear Lord, help me to keep this fire going, keep those sparks alive while I search for more wood. It got to a point where I didn’t believe that I could survive any longer. I lost control over my jaw and shook all over from the deep and penetrating cold.
“Apparently, I wasn’t moving enough to generate body heat and I think I was slowly freezing to death without realizing it. The violent shaking and cold was so bad that. even if my radio had been working, I wouldn’t have been able to use it. I knew I had a problem and that I had to control my thoughts. The good common sense that I normally have seemed to desert me under these adverse pressures. My mind was going in circles. I would say to myself, ‘I don’t have a chance of surviving.’ All the reasons why I couldn’t survive took over my thinking. I had to fight hard to rid myself of these destructive thoughts because I knew that there was no chance of making it through the night if I believed them.
My jaw stopped clacking and my body stopped vibrating. It was as if I had walked into a warm room. In fact, I was so warm that I took off my coat be cause I felt that I didn’t need it any longer.
“Suddenly, I began to feel warm, and began thinking, ‘Gee I’m glad the weather has turned warm. My jaw stopped clacking and my body stopped vibrating. It was as if I had walked into a warm room. In fact, I was so warm that I took off my coat be cause I felt that I didn’t need it any longer. Then I decided that I should take advantage of the lull in the cold and take a little nap to conserve my strength. I placed my coat next to the fire, lay down on it, and was very comfortable in a matter of seconds. I had almost fallen asleep when I remembered a story that I had read several years ago about a tenter who had survived a similar stupidity.
“The more I thought about the story. the more details I remembered. I wasn’t getting warm. I was freezing to death. If I didn’t reverse this warm trend, I had little chance to survive. I forced myself to get up from my comfortable bed. I ran in circles, clapped my hands, jumped up and down, and did everything I could think of to raise my body temperature and get my blood circulating again. About 15 or 20 minutes passed before I was again violently shivering and freezing cold. I’m not sure how many times I began to feel warm again, but each time it happened I knew I had to fight it off.
By 11 p.m. I was sure there was no chance of someone finding me and helping me out of this hellish nightmare — and I had plenty of time to think. My thoughts wandered from one subject to another without continuity. Some thoughts gave courage to keep going while others depressed me. I wondered why I had continued tracking the deer. No deer is worth losing your life for. My wife and children would never give me up for a deer. I had to get out of this situation for their sakes. This thought helped keep me going.
“I was confused and bitter because I couldn’t understand why we hadn’t made plans for emergencies such as the one I was in now. We had never made any real plans for getting someone out of the woods who had a heart attack or had broken a leg. We had been lucky over the years, but why didn’t we have an emergency plan for some one in distress? I scolded myself for not checking my equipment before leaving camp, for not being sure that I had a flashlight or a container of dry matches.
My hopes and spirits came and went with the fire. When the fire would perk up so would I, when it almost went out I would become depressed. Time passed slowly and I thought daylight would never come. When I finally saw the light of dawn in the east, I knew I had made it and gave thanks to the Lord for another chance at life. My only concern now was whether or not I had strength enough to get out of the woods. It was amazing how little strength I had left but, as the day got brighter, so did my spirits, and my strength slowly returned.
“Somewhere around 6 a.m. without thinking about the deer that was so important to me the day before. I picked up my knife and gun and headed downhill to the brook. I followed a southwest course and, two hours later, I was on a familiar logging road that led into camp.
“To this day, I still don’t believe that I made it through the night and out of the woods in one piece. It seems like a bad dream I will never forget, and I will always be thankful that someone wrote a story I happened to read that helped me survive. One thing I am sure of: It was the longest night of my life. I strongly advise all hunters not to be as stupid as I was, and I hope you benefit from my mistakes.”
It has been a couple of years since Bob was forced to spend the night in the woods. We have often discussed whether or not we could have planned better for such emergencies. Our conclusion always comes out the same. Each of us has the responsibility to use common sense: Be out of the woods by dark, be sure to check equipment before leaving camp and, when tracking a wounded deer, get help from your buddies.
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One more problem stands out in our minds. We know that Bob used up much of his ammunition trying to signal us, and we know that he heard our signal shots, even though he couldn’t determine where they came from. We have little doubt that if he hadn’t been hunting with a .44 Magnum rifle, which sounds like a popgun along side of a .30/06 or a .308, we would have heard his shots and the outcome would have been different.
Bob’s experience proves that even the most experienced deer hunters can make potentially fatal mistakes. To ensure your safety, you must follow the rules for enjoying and surviving in great outdoors.
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