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mrnoodle · 03-25-2004, 12:05 AM

I had my first asthmatic reaction whilst running around in the woods one time. I had gotten myself turned around (not lost, mind you), and ended up about 5 miles away from camp - also, about 800 feet or so lower in elevation. Luckily, I knew of a logging road that ran almost all the way to camp. I had been nursing a cold/throat infection for about 2 weeks prior to this trip, so I wasn't feeling so good. Nonetheless, I figured that I should be able to jog most of the way, since I spent most of the summer getting in shape for bow season.

I made it about 1/2 mile when my chest suddenly closed up on me. No matter how hard I tried to inhale, I could only get a thimbleful of air at a time. Not good when you've been running. I had never had asthma before, so I didn't recognize the signs; I just thought I was dying. I panicked, which only increased my heart rate further, as well as my frantic attempts at respiration. I passed out on the side of the road and was utterly suprised to wake up again.

I was still a long way from camp, and I knew my dad and friends would be looking for me in the wrong place (I had gotten waayyy off track, but they didn't know that). I was too scared to get up and walk, though, because I didn't want another attack. About 30 minutes later, a truck came by, occupied by two of the drunkest, evillest looking people I had ever met while hunting. The guys that give the rest of us a bad rep. They offered me a ride though, and I sat on the tailgate while they drove me up to camp. I wouldn't get in the cab with them, because they stood a decent chance of veering off the road and down the side of the hill.

Made it back with no further drama, but the notion that I was about to die on the side of a mountain with no one to find me for weeks was the low point of camping for me.

03-25-2004, 12:05 AM	#44
mrnoodle bent Join Date: Feb 2004 Location: under the weather Posts: 2,656	I had my first asthmatic reaction whilst running around in the woods one time. I had gotten myself turned around (not lost, mind you), and ended up about 5 miles away from camp - also, about 800 feet or so lower in elevation. Luckily, I knew of a logging road that ran almost all the way to camp. I had been nursing a cold/throat infection for about 2 weeks prior to this trip, so I wasn't feeling so good. Nonetheless, I figured that I should be able to jog most of the way, since I spent most of the summer getting in shape for bow season. I made it about 1/2 mile when my chest suddenly closed up on me. No matter how hard I tried to inhale, I could only get a thimbleful of air at a time. Not good when you've been running. I had never had asthma before, so I didn't recognize the signs; I just thought I was dying. I panicked, which only increased my heart rate further, as well as my frantic attempts at respiration. I passed out on the side of the road and was utterly suprised to wake up again. I was still a long way from camp, and I knew my dad and friends would be looking for me in the wrong place (I had gotten waayyy off track, but they didn't know that). I was too scared to get up and walk, though, because I didn't want another attack. About 30 minutes later, a truck came by, occupied by two of the drunkest, evillest looking people I had ever met while hunting. The guys that give the rest of us a bad rep. They offered me a ride though, and I sat on the tailgate while they drove me up to camp. I wouldn't get in the cab with them, because they stood a decent chance of veering off the road and down the side of the hill. Made it back with no further drama, but the notion that I was about to die on the side of a mountain with no one to find me for weeks was the low point of camping for me.