The almost files...
One of the ways I get ready for survival in the bush is by reading accounts of people who got into jams and got out of it (or didn't) and learning what they did, didn't do, knew, brought etc...that saved their rear end. Larry Kanuit's book is a good source for these...
For those willing to share their own lessons from "out there" this is the thread....
A buddy of mine and I were on admiralty island this past September. We were going up the Bear Creek trail towards Mt Robert Baron - a hunt we had done from the other side before. Both of us were trying to lighten up. I lugged a heavy BAR .300 the past year and was looking at taking a 30-06. My buddy had a .223 last year and was thinking of taking that but on a whim brought his 7mm. We were rushed by a sow a mile in...At the time I had left my pack to go back and pick up something and almost left my gun (because the distance was so short). My buddy had about 5 seconds of warning before he had to shoot. By the time I got there the griz was down (7mm through the mouth cavity at 2 feet). I hate to think what would have happen if we had gone in underpowered or worse, not had our guns on us at that very moment....
Alright, I've got one.
As a kid, I spent a lot of time exploring in a nearby canyon in California with friends of mine. We played paintball, camped, hiked... I knew the area pretty well. I probably spent a good half of my teen years with poison oak.
Well, as kids do, I got into some fight with my parents one evening, and decided that it was time to run away from home. I gathered my things, a headed off to that canyon. A couple of hours later, I was setting up my camp on the river bank at the edge of the forest. Basically, I wasn't too far from home, but I was definitely away.
It was summer, and pretty hot, and I didn't have a water purifier or tablets, so I spent most of my first day boiling water out of the stream, hoping to sanitize it somewhat. I eventually found a spring coming out of a rock, and never got giardia from the water, so I must have done alright.
As the night came, I settled to bed. I was sleeping in an REI bivy sack, which compared to a tent, doesn't give you a lot of seclusion from your surroundings. It didn't take long, either, to settle in that I wasn't with friend this time- I was all alone.
Time went by, and as my fears would have drawn out, I began to hear noises in the bushes around me. A twig would snap, and then some leaves would be cruched. This wasn't the wind. It wasn't my imagination either, and I knew it. I was without a doubt wide awake, running on adrenaline, scared to lift the flap and look outside, and white nuckling my ka-bar (best knife I've ever owned). I didn't know what was out there, but it wasn't going away.
Finally, after waiting what seemed an eternity, I decided to do something about this. I resolved my grip on my knife, and with a scream I jumped from my bag, running towards where the sound had come. I wasn't going down without a fight!
Maybe a half dozen quail flew away. I went home the next morning.
Hey, have you ever know anyone to survive a quail attack?