In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

Susan P. Kirk Katahdin Ice Climber Meets Lady Luck Frostbite danger in winter is very real, especially if camping or spending time outside for extended periods, or if your feet get and stay wet. Before I talk about a frostbite emergency while I was camped at Chimney Pond, I’ll mention my work experience with frostbitten extremities. As a registered nurse in a large inner-city hospital, I have seen many cases of frostbitten fingers, noses, and feet. It’s just a fact that some homeless people, for whatever reason, will not go to a shelter on the coldest nights. If they fall asleep under the influence of alcohol or drugs or both, they can develop frostbitten extremities. The course of recovery can be long, sometimes ending in amputation of the affected part. The Connecticut chapter of the Appalachian Mountain Club offers a two-day SOLO course in backcountry rescue,13 but the course doesn’t cover frostbite. Frostbite can be a real emergency, especially if it occurs on your feet. On a trip into Chimney Pond in the early 2000s, our group was again climbing peaks. By that time I had already completed the winter Northeast 4,000-footer list of 115 peaks, as well as the winter Hundred Highest in New England. I was up there for fun, not to complete a list, and I continue to go to Baxter State Park in winter because I love it! Even considering the high winds and driving snow, I can’t get enough of that area in winter. How I envy the ranger who lives up there all season! Of course it’s a tough job—you are on your own, and most likely the initial responder for any emergencies and rescues. Winter’s danger, so far away from civilization, is real and can offset winter’s beauty. On this trip we had lots of snow and wind—but not many opportunities to go above tree line. We were able to climb Hamlin Peak but, due to the poor visibility that rolled in after we reached the summit, none of us were willing to risk the long traverse across the tableland to Baxter Peak in such conditions. Our group wasn’t alone at Chimney Pond; a small group of ice climbers were camping about a half mile away from the cabin. Snowshoeing to the outhouse, I met one of the climbers and we got to talking. I invited 123 r escues i n t h e m o u n t a i n s them to come over to our cabin for a cup of tea, to dry out their gear and warm up. None of us were going anywhere on this windy day with blowing snow—what I call ground-blizzard-like conditions. The visibility was so poor that we discussed tying one of our climbing ropes from the cabin to the outhouse, so we wouldn’t get lost on the way back! The ice climbers came over to our cabin in the afternoon. Two of them were in their late twenties, but the third was a kid who looked really young. It turned out he was seventeen. I noticed right away when he came in that his gait was off—he was limping slightly. I made tea and offered the seventeen-year-old a seat near the stove as he looked cold. The two older climbers decided to take us up on the offer to dry out their gear and went back to their tent to retrieve some stuff to dry. In winter, down sleeping bags can be great; they are warm and light, but have one downfall—they can get damp from body evaporation and lose their insulating quality. Some winter hikers I know use plastic liner bags to protect the down from getting moist on multiple nights in the field. I can’t stand the clammy feeling that results when you use liners, so avoid them. We had clotheslines all over the cabin, but our group was all right with this. I started chatting with the young man after the other climbers left, and invited him to take off his boots. “Might as well warm up your boots, too,” I said. He was holding one of his feet like it was bothering him. He was a stoic and I could tell he was not about to complain about anything. I asked him point-blank, “Are you having problems with your feet?” His answer was a...

Share