The Race for Help - Part 3 of 3

It was a difficult night because of the cold. I managed to get a few hours sleep off and on and Jim claimed he did like wise.

When it was my turn to tend fire again, I got up and saw the sky was starting to lighten up on the horizon. Jim was sitting cross legged in front of the fire with his bare feet as close as he could get. I grabbed my cup and poured some coffee and then I suddenly realized what I was seeing.

Jim was holding a knife by the blade and was tapping one of his big toes with the wooden handle. I was shocked to hear the wood making a solid clunk when hitting Jim’s big toe.

I dropped or tossed my coffee aside and moved closer to examine his feet. I asked him what was wrong. He nonchalantly replied, “It seems my big toes are both kind of frozen”

I felt as if my heart had stopped for a second. I had taken a lot of First Aid courses and knew the situation was serious. When I checked his big toes they were ice cold and very hard. It seemed that he had kept tying his snowshoes on tighter and tighter and this had cut off the circulation.

I could not understand why he had waited so long to tell me what had happened. He claimed that they just needed to warm up and would be fine. I knew that when they thawed out they would hurt like hell and he would not be able to walk in the snowshoes.

After a quick discussion it was agreed he had to get help in a hurry. I checked the surrounding area from the crest of the river bank and there was no farms in view in any direction. We checked the map and noted that the river flowed under a railway bridge a few miles further upstream to the south. From that point the closest town was about five miles to the west.

We had made plans that if we ran into trouble or wanted to quit at any point, a phone call would bring someone from Winnipeg to drive us home. I advised Jim to get his snowshoes on and walk to the railway bridge and then head down the tracks to the town of Vivian, which was about seven miles away, as fast as he was able. He was to leave his snowshoes by the bridge and I would pick them up. Once at the town he could phone for help.

It was agreed that I would stay behind to break camp and pack up the tent and equipment. I would load his pack board and equipment on the toboggan and haul everything myself. Within five minutes he had his socks, moccasins and snowshoes on and was heading up the middle of the snow covered river.

I had some initial trouble getting everything lashed to the toboggan so that it would stay in place. I continued to carry my pack board on my back. Before I got going, Jim was out of sight. I easily followed his tracks and that helped me while hauling the toboggan. By the time I reached the railway track he was too far ahead so I was unable to see him. It took me twice as long to reach the town as he did as it was very difficult dragging the load down the railway right of way.

When I got to the town about two hours behind him, I located him in the only store in town and learned that he had phoned Winnipeg and someone was on the way to pick us up. His feet were starting to thaw and he was experiencing some pain.
　
Our ride showed up shortly after I reached town, and we were quickly loaded and heading back for home.
Jim kept insisting that his feet were fine and everything would be okay. We dropped him off at his house, after explaining what had occurred, to his parents. The toes had thawed by this point and were soft to the touch but the pain was getting worse.

It was two days later before I was able to stop by. His toes were turning black and it seemed likely the toe nails were going to fall off. He refused to see a doctor and claimed they were getting better. I kept in touch by phone for a number of day then went to see him again.

I was shocked to see that both big toes were black as coal, the toe nails had fallen off along with some skin on the end of each toe. He had not yet seen a doctor but his parents had been trying to force him to go. I agreed with them and he finally said he would see a doctor the next day.

When I got a chance to check back with him I learned what had taken place at the doctor’s office. The moment the doctor saw his toes he reached for the phone to arrange an operation to amputate both big toes.
Jim refused the operation and told the doctor, “You think this is bad. You should have seen them a week ago. They are getting better now.”

Eventually Jim won the argument, but had to agree to come back if the toes got worse. In the end he did not lose his toes, but forever after they were very sensitive to cold and he had to take special precautions to make sure he did not freeze them again.

Within months both our lives changed and we lost touch when he moved out West. I am sure that he recalled his Brokenhead River experience and me, every time it got cold out.