Bruce: When to Accept Defeat?

When do you stop and accept that you need to administer Wilderness First Aid?

I had received some basic backpacking and wilderness medical training as part of a college degree.

I took my family – me, my wife, and four children – on a short 3-day loop in West Virginia, at the Blue Bend Loop.

About 11 a.m. on the second day, we packed up and headed up the trail, CCW on the loop.

Looking back, our plan was absolutely horrible.

It put us on the sunward side around noon.

Extremely hot.

Hiking uphill.

Everyone out of shape except me.

My wife began to show symptoms of heat exhaustion: sweating heavily, pulse in the upper 100s, and beginning to get dizzy.

There was no shade, no good place for her to rest, and no cell phone service.

I opted to lay her down, cushion her head, and prop her legs up on a backpack. I collected water from all of our supplies and had her hydrate.

I propped up backpacks next to her body to provide some shade. I stood next to her to shade her head and face.

Then our second oldest son became nauseous and weak. He was hypoglycemic, so I took my granola bars and something sweet to give him glucose and plenty of water.

It was a gut-wrenching half hour as I monitored their and our 3 other (some toddlers) children’s conditions.

I’m VERY grateful to say, within 30 minutes both my wife and son recovered enough to hike 10 minutes to an actual shelter, where we could hydrate, eat, and rest.

Looking back, I don’t think she would have made it to the shelter without her condition getting worse, maybe even reaching heat stroke.

Our son would have deteriorated very quickly as well.

It’s VERY hard to pull the trigger on enacting WFA.

You feel like a failure, as a guide, a Dad, a husband. Earlier, we had a house fire, and I almost pulled the trigger to evacuate too late. It’s so hard to admit “failure” or “defeat”.

Yet, SO CRITICALLY important.

But, THIS time, it all resolved in less than an hour.

We continued our trip, had a great time, and have nicknamed that trail The Trail of Death.

We all laugh about it now.