DAY TWO (cont.): “The Really, Really Ugly.”

Nearly two hours had passed as Travis skinned out the bear on the steep hillside in the thick brush aided only by a dim headlamp. It was not an easy task by himself, and the job was nearly complete when he let out a blood-curdling yell. Moments later, as his light began to move downhill, he yelled to me, “Jon, I am going to need your help!” Then, as the light continued downhill, he yelled out the most frightening thing of all, as he shrieked, “I think I have cut my femoral artery!”

In seconds, thoughts flashed through my head — and none of them were good. I have always heard that if your femoral artery is cut, you have 90 seconds to 2 minutes until you pass out from a near-complete loss of blood. We were in a remote wilderness area, and the ride to camp by horse would take over an hour. My cell phone was useless. We were so far from camp that if I fired an SOS signal with my rifle or handgun, no one would hear it.

When Travis reached me, his face was already pale. His left leg was solid blood from crotch to his blood-filled boot. On his last cut on the bear, his knife had slipped, and the blade sunk deep into his upper thigh. As he crawled down the hill, he had managed to tie his belt around his leg as a makeshift tourniquet and had sent an SOS signal from his satellite phone, but with the thick canopy of the dense evergreen forest, he could not be sure it even went out. It was as if I was staring into the face of death itself.

Travis did not want to leave me behind and insisted that I get on my horse, but I convinced him that I would be just fine by myself, even if I had to spend the night and that I would only slow him down on his ride back to camp. I held his horse steady as he slung his left leg over the saddle, with blood flying everywhere. As he rode down the trail and his light slowly went out of view, I had a sickening feeling that there was simply no way that this was going to end well.

My horse and the pack mule stayed behind with me. There was no point in having them slow Travis as he tried to make it back to camp. As you looked skyward, it appeared that every single star was shining overhead, but the horse and mule, only a few feet away, were invisible in the total darkness of the forest. Just knowing they were there was comforting in the complete darkness. Especially when you considered that rumors around camp were that grizzly bears had been relocated into these mountains recently, and they would be nothing to mess with, particularly in the dark. Add to that — there was a freshly skinned black bear carcass nearby and a good deal of human blood trailing from it down the hillside to me! If a grizzly did come near, the horse and mule would alert me to its presence — at least, that was my hope.

I couldn’t shake the vision of Travis as he mounted his horse with his pale face and blood-soaked leg. I kept shaking my head, convinced that I had seen him for the last time as his light had disappeared down the trail. There was little doubt that the severe blood loss would cause him to pass out on his ride to camp. For certain, I would be riding out at daybreak, and for certain, it was the last I would ever see of Travis.

Sometime between 10:30 and midnight, under the star-filled western sky and in the depths of the surrounding darkness, I made a pact with God. What I asked of Him and what I promised Him in return is between us, and it is something I will honor until my last days.

Sometime after midnight, I saw two headlamps coming up the trail. It was two other guides, Nick and another Travis. I choked on the words as I asked about my guide, Travis. He had made it to camp but did not recall most of the ride. They had cut off his bloody pants and removed the blood-filled boot, cleaned, and dressed the wound, and the camp cook was rushing him to the hospital over an hour away. He was in shock, but he had made it to camp and was on his way to professional help.

I was tired and relieved when we reached camp, and I dismounted my horse. Nick asked me if I was hungry and if he could get me something to eat. I merely said, “Whiskey, please — does anyone please have any whiskey?!?”

To be continued…