Man vs. Wild

DON'T MESS WITH MOTHER NATURE.

It's a pretty simple rule. Respect her, and you should be OK. Still, there are times when lightning strikes without warning. That's how Mother Nature works. She'll throw all kinds of things at you — rattlesnakes, flash floods, blizzards. In the next 10 pages, we'll give you some tips on how to survive those scenarios and more. We'll also share the dramatic stories of three men who “made it out alive.”

LIGHTNING STRIKES

When it comes to avoiding a lightning strike, rules do apply. Take, for example, the "30-30 Rule." According to the National Weather Service, the rule states: "When you see lightning, measure the time it takes to hear the thunder. If the time is 30 seconds or less, immediately head to a safer place. If you can't see the lightning, just hearing the thunder means lightning is likely within striking range. After the storm has dissipated or moved on, wait 30 minutes or more after hearing the last thunder before leaving the safer location." So, what do you do if you're in the wilderness and a safer location isn't readily available? According to the NWS, you should move from high ground to lower ground and assume the "lightning crouch": Put your feet together, tuck your head and cover your ears. If you're with a large group of people, spread out so there are several body lengths between each person, and avoid wide-open areas and tall, isolated objects.

HOW TO SURVIVE HIKING INJURIES

Even the most experienced hikers can roll an ankle or slip on a rocky trail. Take, for example, Scott Thybony. As the Colorado River guide was exploring a series of Supai formations in Arizona's backcountry, he had to maneuver across several cliffs and trek across some treacherous ledges. "About halfway across one cliff, I came to a ledge that looked solid," Thybony says, "but I began to roll. I pushed off and hoped to land safely, and ended up grabbing a boulder. My daypack smashed below." Although Thybony escaped relatively unscathed, there are several survival rules that every hiker even the most experienced should follow: Always tell someone where you plan to hike, and stick to that route; pack a first-aid kit, more water than you'll need, an extra layer of clothing, a mirror and a garbage bag it can be used as a makeshift shelter; and try to hike with a companion. If you find yourself in a dangerous situation and without cell phone reception, use the mirror to signal for help or attract the attention of another hiker.

The Essentials

Every outdoor adventurer needs a little help. Here are 11 survival essentials:

Source: Cody Lundin, Aboriginal Living Skills School, alssadventures.com

DEHYDRATION

One of the main reasons people die from extreme exposure to heat is dehydration. According to Cody Lundin, founder and director of Aboriginal Living Skills School, that's why at least two or three extra gallons of water per person per day are necessary when traveling through the desert. If you do become stranded, Lundin recommends finding microclimates, such as north-facing canyon walls, trees and shade. “Shade can also be created with whatever one might have on hand, such as an opaque trash bag cut open to create more surface area,” he says. “Clothing is the main shelter in hot climates; look at the Bedouin natives of the Middle East.” To find water, low-lying areas that support some sort of vegetation are your best bets. Look for cattle trails, cow tanks, windmills and concentrations of birds. “However, none of those are foolproof,” Lundin cautions. “Nothing trumps carrying water with you when you recreate in hot climates.” Although hunger might raise its ugly head during a short-term desert survival scenario, you might want to resist the urge to eat. “No food should be eaten if water is scarce, because food uses metabolic water from the body to digest,” Lundin says. “In other words, unless you happen to run across a watermelon crop, it's more than likely better to fast.”

HYPOTHERMIA

It's counterintuitive - the thought of freezing to death in Arizona, a state known for sunshine, sunburns and 100degree days - but it happens, particularly in the mountains of Northern Arizona. Cody Lundin is the author of 98.6 Degrees: The Art of Keeping Your Ass Alive. In the book, he recommends packing several simple items to avoid hypothermia, or low core body temperature, when traveling in Arizona's cold climates. Among the items Lundin recommends are chains and a shovel; car-repair supplies; extra clothing; water; rich, high-energy food; sleeping bags and blankets; and a brightly colored tarp. “Exposure can occur as a result of any number of factors,” Lundin says, “from getting lost, to an injury, bad weather, unrealistic hiking timelines and Murphy's Law.” When exploring the high country, be sure to wear or pack multiple layers of loose-fitting clothing, preferably made from wool or loosely woven cotton. And when hiking, go for warm, waterproof boots to prevent frostbite. If you're caught in a snowstorm, find native shelter under tree limbs and pine needles, and opt for dead vegetation, because it doesn't retain water like live vegetation - waterlogged vegetation feels cooler against the body.

On McAdam has seen his fair share of extraordinary Arizona wilderness sites, from the Superstitions to the Grand Canyon to the Four Peaks. As a photographer, he draws his inspiration from David Muench, but as a hiker, he pulls from nature from the state's colors and textures and, more divinely, from its offerings of silence and solitude.

In that spirit, McAdam embarked on a solo, nine-day journey to Rough Canyon, a trek that includes scrambling over boulder-strewn Superstition Wilderness trails and plenty of rigorous elevation climbs.

"My son and I have been exploring that area for years," McAdam says. "We've never seen another person on those trails. When my son couldn't make the trip, I decided to head out on my own."

Seven hours into the first day, McAdam had traveled 2 miles in and 1,400 feet up. It was a challenging few hours to say the least, but nothing McAdam wasn't used to.

"I had to go around a rock fall and come back to the creek," he says. "That's when I caught the tip of my boot." Although he didn't fall far, McAdam fell hard when his knee met a knee-high boulder. He knew immediately, he says, that his knee was shattered: "I will never forget that pain. I pulled up my pant leg, and I could see that the tendons were spread apart. My knee looked like a giant pill with a line right down the middle."

Although McAdam was carrying a satellite phone, he found himself under a dense canopy of trees and couldn't get a signal. He knew he was facing two problems: He was at the base of a fall of boulders, with his planned campsite about a quarter-mile up the trail, and his only water source was a small pool of water. A third problem: The Superstition Wilderness is bear country.

"I knew that I needed to get water, and I knew I had to get to an open spot to use the phone, so I threw the phone uncovered into my daypack, along with a Camelback to retrieve some water," McAdam says. Thatproved to be a mistake. As he crawled through a stand of maples toward the water source, the Camelback leaked, saturating the phone. “I knew at that point that I was going to be out there for a week, so I put the phone on a rock to try to dry it out and kept crawling toward the water.” Then, McAdam fell again, and this time, he could hear his knee crunch. “It knocked me down,” he says. “It hurt so much, so fast, but then the pain started to subside, so I dragged myself to the water, then climbed back to a rocky, makeshift camp.” Thanks to his experience, McAdam had planned well for this adventure. He'd left a detailed itinerary and route with his wife, and had plenty of food and extra layers of clothing. He knew, he says, that his wife would alert authorities when he didn't return.

He did what he could to get his food up off the ground, and away from the bears and ringtailed cats that would surely be drawn to its scent. He subsisted on nuts, crackers, instant oats and mashed potatoes, and homemade jerky. He tried - mostly without success to make himself comfortable.

“I could only move inches at a time, and I couldn't take my boot or my clothes off,” McAdam says. “I slept the best I could, but really it was only in 15 to 20 minute increments, then I'd have to move again.” After seven days, a helicopter came. As he predicted, when McAdam didn't return home, his wife contacted the local search and rescue unit, which flew a sheriff's department helicopter down from Flagstaff, and at 2:45 p.m. on April 16-seven days and 45 minutes after he broke his kneecap alone in the wilderness - McAdam was rescued.

“I knew that I was in good shape in terms of supplies, and I knew that my wife would do the right thing,” he says. “I was really concerned about infection, but to keep myself busy, I took photographs when I felt up to it. The rescuers said those types of rescue operations normally turn into body retrieval. They said I stayed alive because of a positive mental attitude, and I know that's true.” McAdam's knee was indeed shattered in two, but now, more than a year later, he says he's “healed up pretty good. In fact, I just came back from hiking up Humphreys Peak. I'm a little slower now, but I'll keep going.”

CAPSIZING

Donnie Dove knows a thing or two about whitewater rafting. With more than 28 years of rafting experience, and as owner of Flagstaff's Canyon Rio Rafting, he also knows a thing or two about the spills that go hand-in-hand with the adventure. “The general rule of thumb if your raft tips is 'nose and toes upward,'” Dove says. He recommends keeping your feet out of the water as much as possible and your arms at your sides for stabilization. “Finish riding out the rapids and then look for whatever's closest and safest to help you get out of the water,” he adds.

CACTUS COLLISIONS

If ever there were a misnomer, it's the teddybear cholla cactus. Known for its barbed spines that have a tendency to “jump” onto clothing and skin, this desert plant might be fuzzy, but it's certainly not cuddly. Saguaro National Park is home to countless chollas, as well as the park's namesake, the saguaro. Park rangers there recommend that adventurers carry a large comb and tweezers to remove cactus spines that become embedded in skin. Slide the comb between the spine and your body, and then quickly flick the comb. The spine should dislodge, although sometimes it's necessary to employ tweezers to remove bits of spine left behind. Chollas aren't poisonous, but thoroughly wash any affected areas with soap and water as soon as possible to help prevent infection.

Survival Traits

The following personality traits were fairly common among those who lived when faced with life-threatening events:

Source: Cody Lundin, Aboriginal Living Skills School, alssadventures.com

BEAR ENCOUNTERS

RATTLESNAKE BITES

BOBCAT ATTACKS

Black bears are pretty smart. They know they need to eat a lot so they flock to where there's food. Usually, that means people come into contact with bears where there are enough hot dogs, marshmallows and baked beans to go around. Campgrounds would be a good example. Although black bear activity in the state is most prevalent during the summer, encountering a lumbering, ursine growler is a possibility year-round. If you do, the Arizona Game and Fish Department recommends that you stand still, no matter how tempting it might be to run. Instead, face the bear, stay calm and slowly back away. Make yourself look larger, as well, and make loud noises to frighten the bear away. To prevent encounters, secure all food containers tightly and store them away from tents and sleeping areas. Remove all garbage and keep a clean camp.

If Russ Johnson has a phobia, it's not of the herpeto variety. As president of the Phoenix Herpetological Society, he's all too familiar with the slitherers, sliders and sidewinders that call the desert home. And, as such, he's also seen his fair share of bites. “A number of bites occur in the desert due to alcohol,” Johnson says. “Drunks start playing around with snakes and get bit. Many bites occur at night when people step outside without turning on a light, or go for a walk without a light. They get too close and the snakes defend themselves.” So, what's a person to do if they encounter a rattling reptile? Johnson says the best thing to do is to walk slowly in the other direction. “Very few rattlers can strike within the distance of a long adult stride, so it takes little effort to get out of harm's way.” If you are bitten, keep the affected area still. Do not, however, use a tourniquet to reduce blood flow or use ice to cool the bite. Instead, keep the affected area low, below the heart, and remove all jewelry before any swelling begins. Do not lance the bite or try to remove any venom, but do make your way to the nearest hospital as soon as possible.

Most of the time, bobcats want as little to do with you as you want to do with them. But there are occasions, and they can be scary, when rabid bobcats can become bold. The Arizona Game and Fish Department estimates that individual bobcats defend a territory of one to 12 square miles. Typically, the cats can be identified by their tails, which are short, with a black tip on the top side, and they're usually found in rimrock and chaparral areas. The cats are fond of small shady places, and often make their dens in crevices and under thick brush. Be cautious of these areas when you're exploring. If you do encounter one, make yourself as large as possible and start screaming - most bobcats will be frightened by loud noise. If the animal attacks, fight back, striking at the animal's eyes and head with rocks, sticks or your bare hands.

Risk Factors

While there are no guarantees in a survival situation, proper planning, coupled with quality survival training and subsequent practice, will help prevent many of these risk factors from occurring in the first place.

Source: Cody Lundin, Aboriginal Living Skills School, alssadventures.com

FLASH FLOODS

Washes, ravines and canyons contribute to the state's stunning scenery, but they have the potential to become as treacherous as they are beautiful. And although monsoon season brings much needed rain to the desert, it also brings dangerous flash floods. "Flash floods are prevalent at certain times of year in areas that are prone to funneling large amounts of water - based on topography - into focused areas, such as arroyos, canyons and drainages," Lundin says. To avoid being swept away, Lundin recommends little more than common sense. In addition to steering clear of trouble areas during the monsoon season, he says that recognition of topography plays a key role in knowing when you're in a trouble spot and when to get out of it. The bottom line, though, is that canyon hikers should look and listen. "If you see water start to flow where things were once dry, or hear an increasingly loud noise that sounds like a freight train, get to high ground immediately," Lundin says. "Don't camp in low-lying areas such as sandy washes. Narrow canyons that cover miles and miles of drainage and offer few routes for retreat are death wishes during the rainy season." If you're swept up in a sudden current, stay on your back and point your toes downstream. As soon as the water calms, look for the safest spot to swim ashore.

On August 12, 1997, 11 tourists perished when a flash flood in Antelope Canyon, near Page, swept them away. The lone survivor, tour guide Francisco “Poncho” Quintana, earned that designation by staying on his back and pointing his feet downstream. He was rescued by members of the Coconino County Sheriff's Department, as well as tour operator Kenny Young, who risked their own safety to save the tour guide from the raging water.

Here, in his own words, Ron Anderson, a lieutenant and commander with the Page Fredonia substation of the Coconino County Sheriff's Office, describes the rescue effort: “The call came in around 4:40 p.m. on the afternoon of August 12. The first responder was a deputy, Monty McKnight, who immediately contacted me. The Antelope Canyon area is only 3 miles from Page, so the response was within five to seven minutes.

“When I crossed the highway bridge separating the upper and lower canyons, there was a large amount of water coming through - more than I'd ever seen. When I got to the parking area of Lower Antelope Canyon, there was a lot of confusion. I had a van full of tourists screaming and crying, pleading with me to save friends who were down in the canyon. Several other people were on the canyon edge in shock. It was mass chaos at that point. People were running around everywhere.

“I contacted Deputy McKnight, who had determined that there were several people down in the canyon, where a 10-foot wall of water, mud, debris, rocks and bushes came through the bridge with no warning, then covered the 175-yard distance to the slot [canyon] in a matter of seconds. Bystanders tried running down to warn the people in the slot, but it was too late.

“I received word that the Antelope Canyon tour owner found a survivor. I immediately went to that location, which was about a quarter-mile downstream, on a rock outcropping. The force of the water tore Poncho Quintana's clothes completely off. He was bruised and battered and he had silt under his eyelids and couldn't open them. I interviewed him, and he said the people he was with were still down in the canyon. We were also able to judge from tour operators' sign-in sheets that there were more people in the canyon, as well as from calls from the Page Police Department. The total number was 11.

“Poncho was holding several people in the canyon against the walls, trying to get to higher ground when one of the victims was swept through. That victim grabbed [the others], causing everyone to get swept away. Poncho, through his prior swift-water training, kept his head and legs up, and protected his head with his arms. He fought the current and was able to get into a rock with a crack that he shoved his foot into. He pulled himself up and collapsed on top.

“The water didn't stop for almost 12 hours straight. The initial search and recovery efforts comprised 70 people the first day, and major risks were the terrain and the raging water in the canyon. Nobody could have predicted what happened. The thunderstorms in the West are nothing like the storms in the East and the rest of the world. Flash flooding is a Western thing - due to the makeup of the terrain. In the slot canyon, the ladder system consisted of homemade timbers and extension ladders that were all swept away when the first wave of water hit. There was no warning system in place, and the storm that caused the flood happened 7 miles away.” Today, 11 years after the fatal flood, Anderson says that ladder systems have been bolted to the rock in Antelope Canyon. Cargo nets, too, are in strategic places on top, and can be deployed in seconds. The National Weather Service radio is stationed at the fee booth, and an alarm horn is now operational in the canyon. “All tours are now guided,” Anderson says. “All guides are trained in what to do in the event of a flash flood. In this country of canyons, always take the high ground, and always look for an escape route.” All