Hypothermia – A Hidden Trail Danger
by Jonathan Schechter

The first signs may be the four umbles: mumbling, stumbling, fumbling and grumbling. Muscles contract in attempt to produce warmth. For a brief time heart rate and respiration increases. Shivering intensifies. The victim - perhaps you - becomes disoriented, delusion and debilitated. All shivering stops.

Paradoxical behavior follows: Often a false sense of warmth takes hold and clothes are removed. The skin takes on a waxy appearance. The cardiovascular system collapses. Breathing slows. The heart slows. Blood thickens. The oxygen supply to the brain diminishes. And the heart stops. The process can take days, or in some cases just hours.

Death by hypothermia is not restricted to Mount Hood and wilderness areas. Over 700 Americans die from hypothermia every year with little media fan-fare. Many perish in urban areas. The great majority are not bold adventurers embracing the splendors and challenges of a slumbering volcanic mountain. Hypothermia can easily strike anyone, anywhere even during a mild winter.

If your teenager daughter heads off in a car on a winter night dressed in heels, stockings and a thin leather coat she is at risk if she must abandon the shelter of her car. Same for son, with jeans worn way-low and no jacket. Cross-county ski with your baby pulled in a sled – the baby is not staying warm from your movement - and baby may be at risk. Hypothermia can happen in a heat without home. During the great Buffalo N.Y. power outage of October 06 thousands were at risk.

If you become dehydrated the process accelerates: As fluids are lost through exertion, heat is lost and the risk of hypothermia increases. Alcohol, injury and some pre-existing medical conditions make you more susceptible and less aware of the first stages of hypothermia.

Nature’s way is survival of the fittest. Death assures that only survivor genes are passed on. Most wild creatures are well-adapted, and those that are not adapted to cold, the ruby-throated hummingbird for one, left long ago for Florida. Woodchucks slipped into true hibernation back in November. Treefrogs are frozen solid. Their hearts stopped for the winter, but come spring they emerge from ice-world and hop off to breed, none the worse for the wear. Black bears slipped into a deep slumber protected by layers of fat and fur. Sometimes that slumber is in a den, sometimes in a low depression on the ground.

New research in the journal of Physiology and Biochemical Zoology clearly demonstrated that striped skunks - some of whom are cat-napping at this very moment under your new deck – use “social thermoregulation huddled together in communal dens”. In other words, skunks cuddle to conserve warmth.

For you to avoid hypothermia you must understand the process. Hypothermia starts when body temperature control mechanisms can no longer maintain heat. The core of your body cools. Paramedics know that when the core slips to just ninety-five degrees the patient is hypothermic and the process to death has begun. Modern life and our lack of preparedness make that easy to happen.

We are a frail species. We are not as adapted as wildlife to survive winter when our modern conveniences fail or we have an accident or fall in the out of doors. Be wise to nature, the insidious approach of hypothermia and the medical ways and limitations of your body. When you head out on any trail, even the Paint Creek Trail, stuff a space blanket, (they weigh only a few ounces, fold up smaller than a man’s wallet and hold in body heat and shelter against exposure) a water bottle, a zip lock bag of trail mix, and a few chemical heat packs in your fanny pack. Cell phones fail and accidents happen. Be prepared. And study the mechanisms of hypothermia. Have a plan for the unexpected in the woodlands and along the highways and trailways of Michigan. And then get out on a trail and explore nature’s ways in winter.

Jonathan Schechter is a paramedic/ naturalist and Paint Creek Trail user. He can be reached at oaknature 'at' aol.com