Out of Thin Air: A true story of survival at high altitude | The Woodsman Hut | Forums

Not the jon krakauer book, 

A number of years ago, on a hiking trip in Bolivia with my dad, I encountered one of the most harrowing 24 hours of my life. This experience helped to shape and define me, and is one of the most seminal moments of my life. It showed me that you can never give up, no matter how bad things are. This is the unedited account that I wrote about a month after the incident happened. 

Chapter I: The Problem

It was a cool, foggy morning when I woke up. The crisp mountain air filled my nostrils, quickly replacing the stale tent air I had been breathing all night. We had camped in a dip in the midst of a flat that was most of the way up the mountain. I took a moment to absorb the scene around me; the small mountain lake sparkled in the early morning sun. The ground was hard but not frozen under my feet as I walked towards the lake to sit down. There were plenty of large rocks randomly spread out around the flat, and I tried to find the one that the sun was shining most heavily on.

Today was our rest day. We had hiked six hours a day the past three days making our way up and across the Quimzacruz mountain range. The campsite we were at that night was our highest so far, nestled up at 14,200 feet we were at just about the height of the cloud line, which accounted for the fog. The hiking to get there had been slow and arduous at first, as I quickly found out the exponentially increasing effects of higher altitude. Each breath had to be deeper than normal, as if you were concentrating on remembering how to take each breath. The altitude required that you drink significant amounts of water each day, at the very least four liters. This had proven to be fairly difficult because there were times I felt like I was force feeding myself water, but in the mornings I was always thirsty. I took a swig of water as I stared out at the lake, one hand shielding my eyes from the bright morning sun.

I got up and headed back to the tent to get dad up for breakfast. When I got there he was sitting on his knees inside the tent, head poked out as he splashed the hot water Peter (the head trek guide) had brought to our tent. He looked up and opened his mouth to say good morning, but he was interrupted by a fit of coughing.

“Hey, you don’t look so good,” I told him, laughing, “you look… old!”

“Yeah, well-“ he coughed, “you don’t look like prince charming yourself.” He continued to cough so I reached out to pat him on the back but he held up a hand, “I’m fine.”

I turned back thinking that he sounded really sick for someone who was fine, but I just attributed it to the E. Coli that he came down with our first night on the mountain. “You know, we’re really lucky to be here. This is the most amazing place I’ve ever been.” I cried back to the tent.

“Yeah,” my dad said, climbing out of the tent, “its – gorgeous” his speech was interrupted by another serious round of coughing. Suddenly, mid-cough his hand slapped to his mouth and as the coughing subsided he looked down at his palm. I managed to see his palm for a split second before he quickly wiped it off on the ground. He had coughed up something, and from the look of disappointment on his face it was obviously something bad.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, worried. He looked at me and said,

“Well I’ve started to cough up the pink frothy stuff.” He said, and then as if listening to my thoughts he said, “It’s the defining symptom of pulmonary edema.” “Is that serious?” I asked, hoping for a no. “Well, in all honesty, if we don’t get to a lower altitude it can be fatal.” The bottom had fallen out on this trip, and I could feel my heart start to race. I wasn’t able to even start to process the fact that my father could, truly, die. My mind immediately was bull rushed with a torrent of questions, but only one managed to make its way to my mouth,

“Wha-what are going to do?” I said shakily. “Right now I am going to talk to Peter, and see what he thinks is our best option.” 

rest here

http://masonsmusings.....-altitude/