Seven Day Story: Part 1

(A seven day story is just that, a story written over seven days. Each day’s story has to be written completely on that day with no prior planning.)

To anyone that may find this:

My name is Caleb and I’ve been cave-mapping in the forest north of Brantleberry for the past ten days. Two days ago I finished the last of my original route and decided to keep going. I had food for another week since I brought two weeks worth just in case. I say had because an accidental slip caused me to lose one of my packs in a cave pool. It sank to the bottom and I couldn’t see it, even with my headlight. Luckily I didn’t lose my gear pack, but even so, I can’t eat rope.

I thought that would be the worst of my worries, having to hike a day or two back to the signal spot for pickup with no prepared food. I was wrong.

This morning I ran into a family of black bears. A mother and two cubs. They came within about thirty yards of me, and when the mother locked eyes with me I thought it would be best to disappear atop the trees and get off the ground. I mean, I know bears can climb, but I figured if I could get high enough into a tree before they got to me I could maybe get out of sight. Another bonehead move born of hunger.

As I climbed I watched them approach. The mother sniffed around while her cubs stuck to her side. The first ten minutes she walked circles around where I was standing when we had our moment of recognition, and after that it was another twenty of going tree to tree, sniffing up and down each one. I was sitting with my back to them, legs outstretched on a thick branch. I planned on waiting until they wandered off and climbing back down, but my body had other plans.

Since I hadn’t eaten in a couple days my energy was down. Sitting against the tree afforded me time to close my eyes while I waited, even though that wasn’t a great idea. Of course, as my luck goes, I ended up falling asleep for a little while. I didn’t even realize I was dozing off until the shocking dream state of falling ended up being actual falling, and I landed on the ground with a pronounced thud. It took me a minute to catch my breath and gain my bearings, but once I did I took in the full horror of the situation: the bottom half of my right leg was at a perfect right angle.

The pain? I can’t even tell you what it felt like. Literally, since the fog of my brain is making a lot of small details before ten minutes ago unrecognizable. Right now, though, it feels like what you would imagine a hot knife gliding through flesh would feel like. I don’t know how long I was asleep, but when I looked around the bears were gone. That doesn’t mean they’ll stay gone. I managed to tie my leg off and wrap it up with the first aid kit, but there’s still a lot of blood and I’m sure they can smell it. I’m in no condition to move. I’ve been sitting against this tree for the better part of four hours now, and it’ll be getting dark soon.

I’m starving, dehydrated and in pain. I filled my water bottles the other day, but I’m running low again. I’ve been trying to conserve, but dealing with this leg is taking it out of me. I’ve been anxious non-stop and it’s doing a number on my body. I used to think the exhaustion I felt after having a panic attack was bad, but this is on a level I’ve never dreamed of. I don’t have much energy left. Even armchair hikers know that running out of energy is a death sentence, and I have this injury to boot.

It’s a little past one in the afternoon, and I need to think about getting things together for a fire. My leg is going in and out of numbness, and I don’t know if I’ll even be able to move it. I have a lighter, I just need to get some wood. Staying here without a fire is a good way to end up dead even faster, since if predators don’t get me the cold will. I don’t think I’ll even be able to pitch my tent, and that has me really worried. I am glad this happened so close to a lot of wood; the thickness of the trees will help be a little bit of cover, and I don’t have to crawl far for fire fuel.

I’m going to try and look for some small insects or something around me to eat and see if I can manage to get myself up and moving. All I can do is hope for the best.