Things you survived, but probably shouldn't have

[Leadwood]

I had a very bad experience with a black mamba on our farm ten years ago.

Went out at midday with my 50 Cal Muzzleloader looking for a kudu bull.
Decided to work my way very slowly up a small dry drainage line, heavily overgrown alongside the banks.
My left leg was suffering from some form of nerve damage after the previous week's mountain hunt.....I could not lift it up or walk properly...had to crab along slowly.
At some point I heard a branch break very close to me in front.....could not see a thing through the thickets...so I decided to slide down the bank into the dry gulley itself from where I would be able to softly sneak up on the kudu.
Due to my gammy leg it was slow going to get down the 10 foot bank.
Halfway down I started hearing a strange noise......very persistant and also very close.
I could not see anything while trying to get down so I kept going and eventually landed on the sand intact.
The next moment an extremely large black mamba reared up with it's open mouth literally almost touching my face.
I am almost two meters tall.
I realised that the rest of the mamba's body was between my legs and that the sound from earlier was the mamba blowing/ hissing due to the soil and pebbles that I dislodged and dropped down on it.
I remember very very clearly that there was not a single thing that I could do at that moment......whether I was going to live or die depended entirely on the mamba.
( my mind already calculated the distance back to the truck with one useless leg, full bite in the face, then another two hours to nearest hospital.......and the conclusion was reached in miliseconds. You will not make it. Walk to the nearest road and try to send a gps pin location so that my family can find and bury me before the hyenas do )
Time stood still for me.
The mamba kept gaping his mouth in my face for what felt like an eternity.
Then suddenly it lowered itself.........and started to climb up the opposite bank about 5 meters away and then draped itself across a large broken knobthorn branch.
There it stayed...all the while watching me.
My decision was easy.
It spared my life.....and I was not going to kill it although it was an easy shot at less than 10 meters.
I very slowly hobbled away and to this day have not hunted that same section again.
It is a strange experience to be in a situation where you are completely at the mercy of another party/ entity .

 

[thoma018]

Cool head not to move or flee, Very cool head. My surge of adrenalin would have prob. caused me to commit to my own death. I have no use for the poisonous serpent---I mean NONE.
Count your blessings.

 

[Ridge Runner]

This is what my scariest moment looked like. With over 3,000 jumps, odds are it's going to happen from time to time.
View attachment 728465

Or jumper - jumper entanglements.

 

[skydiver386]

Or jumper - jumper entanglements.

Depends.

Static-line jumps with round parachutes, it's scary, but you are going to descend which keeps the parachute inflated.

High altitude Freefall parachutes are more like an aircraft wing, and need forward (horizontal) speed to stay inflated. HALO jumps at night are especially dangerous for this reason.

 

[Ridge Runner]

Ok these near death posts/threads are "harrowing".

But nothing to those of our military personnel who have survived hostile environments. I'm waiting to hear some real horror stories of near death experiences.

Homicidal, Suicidal, Adrenaline Junkie, or just plain foolishness: My multiple psychiatric evaluations are still inconclusive. LOL.

What I have survived over the several decades:

Gunfire: hostile, no such thing as friendly gunfire, bullets don't discriminate.
Explosions/explosives:
Hand to Hand: with and without weapons present
Vehicle accidents: farm and street vehicles
Livestock: horses and cattle
Reptile/insect: snakes, ticks, mosquitoes, spiders
Food poisoning: food, water, alcohol
Parachuting: in high winds, inclement weather, intanglements, hard landings, dragged
Head/brain trauma: severe and moderate head concussions: sports and other physical activities other than previously mentioned
Other related health injuries: Hyperthermia, frostbite, heat exhaustion

I'm a firm believer that God, Allah, Budda, The Big Green Hand in the sky looks after the young and fools. I'm hoping they look after the elderly also because I still need looking after.

 

[Franco]

Does flying a single engine airplane, many times, at night, in IMC, over long stretches of cumulo granite count?

I think it deserves a separate, special category all it's own, and buddy I am right there with you:

"Things I got away with once - so I did it again."

There is a subcategory of, "How many times did you invoke help in Jesus' name?" Or, promise to never do it again, but you did it again anyway.

Scud running in B-17s, B-25s, and the B-23 going to/from airshows. Special VFR departure, join up, report clear of clouds, and then climb through IFR to VFR on top. VFR on top in a PBY going from Geneseo, NY to Owl's Head, ME - engine failure. Unable to maintain altitude, so - 200 fpm down, single engine IFR descent, vectors to VFR airport.

The list goes on, but there is one which sticks with me the most. What seemed like the right decision, soon became an emotional roller-coaster. It went from "Hell yes we can do this" to "Oh shit this was a bad idea" to "I can't believe I talked myself into this" to "Piece of cake, this is going to work" to "Awesome", ending with "Thank you Jesus".

(Names omitted and locations changed to protect the guilty)

We were wrapping up the airshow season in West Texas and heading back to home base. The B-17, Corsair, Hellcat, P-40, and F3F took off as a flight. I was in the P-38 and was experiencing a bit of trouble with the right engine, the B-25 remained behind while I sorted out the engine.

Engine problem remedied (we thought) and the 25 and I departed and headed home. We flew in formation, it was fun, there was always someone in a bomber to take your picture, and if there was a problem - you had somebody close.

We were about an hour into the flight and the right engine started acting up, the 25 crew began checking their maps for enroute options and I suggested we climb and press for home.
Side note: About a year prior, I lost an engine in a P-38 on take-off, climbed to 14,500' on the remaining engine and flew it home.

In the climb, the right engine problem worsened but it would hold idle power. Then came the bad news, weather had moved into our home base, not too bad, scattered to broken clouds from 5000' to 1200'. Doesn't sound too bad because the 25 crew left out the really bad part.

We pressed for home and I could see the clouds on the horizon grow bigger and closer by the second. We decided to stay at altitude as long as possible, let down through a hole, and descend in formation.

Then came the really bad news - light rain. If I land now, there I stay; what the hell - we can do this.

The 25 crew was able to get weather updates as well as talk to Air Traffic Control, I had my radios tuned to ATC and our private ship-to-ship. The 25 pilot came over the radio, "Hey, those holes have kinda closed up, rather than let down in a spiral, I've asked for a straight descent to vectors to a 10 mile finale, you good?"

Flying formation is about trust. You trust lead won't take you into the dirt and you trust your wingman won't smash into you.

The pilot of the 25 and I had been flying together for years, if I was going to trust anybody - it was him.

"Yeah, I'm good". I whisper Jesus' name for the first time.

We started down while VFR to match speeds and close the distance. The 38 is not an easy airplane to fly in formation, the engine nacelle and mid-wing require you to stack down, slightly under the lead aircraft, if level - raising a wing blocks your view in that direction.

I find my spot on the 25, maneuver into position and stay focused on that spot, I no longer look forward. Blue sky surrounding the 25 turns white, we are in the clouds. Water drops form streaks across my windshield, I press in a bit tighter. Wisps of white appear between me and the 25, I press as close as I dare. My left wing is just inside the right wing of the 25, I'm stacked down, looking up at the crew in the side window of the 25. I see thumbs raised and feel water on my face, then I realize - it's not rain, it's sweat. I confess to Jesus, "This was a bad idea".

The pilot of the 25 knows I can't look at my instruments so he calls out altitudes and distance to the airport, airspeed won't matter until we get close. For now I just stay in position.

"Coming up on 10 miles out, slight right turn on to the localizer, stay with me".

This was the, "I can't believe I talked myself into this phase". "OK, I'm in your hands". I was actually talking to Jesus, I had no choice but to stick with the 25.

We continue through the clouds and then I hear over the radio, "Ceiling 1200', visibility 3 miles - light rain".

This is going to work.

Through the narrow space between the nacelle and cockpit I start to pick up the ground.

From the 25 I hear, "3 miles and 1000' - runway in sight. I slide right of the 25, and we both slow to approach speed and configure for landing.

"You land, I'm going around", I look over at the 25 and see my friend nod toward the runway.

At 500' the 25 stops his descent, powers up, raises gear and flaps and executes a hard left turn to circle back and land. Vapor trails are forming off the wingtips. Awesome - thank you Jesus.

I was asked later what I was thinking at that time; my answer was, I was picturing the cover of Air Classics Magazine with the headline: Experienced Warbird Pilot Makes Fatal Mistake. I imagined the funeral, "How could he have been so stupid?" Well, how could I have been so stupid - apparently it's not as difficult as one would like to think.

 

[HuntingGold]

I refrained from chiming in at the beginning of this thread, as I am sure several others still are. It just seems that some of my activities were risky to begin with. Maybe the way I was raised? I dont know. Dad always seemed to find little ways to get us into jams. These generally were taking a vehicle farther than it should have gone, ending up stuck or some other predicament. I can recall multiple deeply stuck in mud in very remote locations. I still remember a wreck on a snowy remote road, long before seatblelts and cell phones. Car break down, again, in very remote areas. I just learned to work through these issues. Perhaps that set me up for what was to come? I dont know.

Never been shot, but have been shot at, on more than one occasion.
One gunfight, me vs two. I won.
Months later, me versus 3 escapees from an Idaho Youth facility. No shots fired. How? I still dont know. Despite the numbers, I had the upper hand, and when confronted with a "shoot" situation, recognized the shotgun in my hand had just as much probability of harming civilians as the bad guys. Somehow I took all into custody after a very prolonged wait for backup.
Fights? Yep.
Loss of brakes on another remote icy road resulting in taking on a huge ponderosa pine. Like the character Spicoli in Fast Times at Ridgemont High, my first thought was "I could fix it." The Ford 150 was folded in like an accordion and went to the junk yard. I walked out without a scratch.
Some strange occurrences in fixed wings and helicopters but all came out well. The helicopter emergency landing in a desert for fuel actually still entertains me but shook my boss up terribly.
My wife just interrupted my train of thought...

Two different near collisions with range cattle, one at over 100 miles an hour. The other at a much slower speed.
Sorry, the wife interrupted the flow. However, I've been very fortunate to have escaped these and other encounters.

 

[Ridge Runner]

I think it deserves a separate, special category all it's own, and buddy I am right there with you:

"Things I got away with once - so I did it again."

There is a subcategory of, "How many times did you invoke help in Jesus' name?" Or, promise to never do it again, but you did it again anyway.

Scud running in B-17s, B-25s, and the B-23 going to/from airshows. Special VFR departure, join up, report clear of clouds, and then climb through IFR to VFR on top. VFR on top in a PBY going from Geneseo, NY to Owl's Head, ME - engine failure. Unable to maintain altitude, so - 200 fpm down, single engine IFR descent, vectors to VFR airport.

The list goes on, but there is one which sticks with me the most. What seemed like the right decision, soon became an emotional roller-coaster. It went from "Hell yes we can do this" to "Oh shit this was a bad idea" to "I can't believe I talked myself into this" to "Piece of cake, this is going to work" to "Awesome", ending with "Thank you Jesus".

(Names omitted and locations changed to protect the guilty)

We were wrapping up the airshow season in West Texas and heading back to home base. The B-17, Corsair, Hellcat, P-40, and F3F took off as a flight. I was in the P-38 and was experiencing a bit of trouble with the right engine, the B-25 remained behind while I sorted out the engine.

Engine problem remedied (we thought) and the 25 and I departed and headed home. We flew in formation, it was fun, there was always someone in a bomber to take your picture, and if there was a problem - you had somebody close.

We were about an hour into the flight and the right engine started acting up, the 25 crew began checking their maps for enroute options and I suggested we climb and press for home.
Side note: About a year prior, I lost an engine in a P-38 on take-off, climbed to 14,500' on the remaining engine and flew it home.

In the climb, the right engine problem worsened but it would hold idle power. Then came the bad news, weather had moved into our home base, not too bad, scattered to broken clouds from 5000' to 1200'. Doesn't sound too bad because the 25 crew left out the really bad part.

We pressed for home and I could see the clouds on the horizon grow bigger and closer by the second. We decided to stay at altitude as long as possible, let down through a hole, and descend in formation.

Then came the really bad news - light rain. If I land now, there I stay; what the hell - we can do this.

The 25 crew was able to get weather updates as well as talk to Air Traffic Control, I had my radios tuned to ATC and our private ship-to-ship. The 25 pilot came over the radio, "Hey, those holes have kinda closed up, rather than let down in a spiral, I've asked for a straight descent to vectors to a 10 mile finale, you good?"

Flying formation is about trust. You trust lead won't take you into the dirt and you trust your wingman won't smash into you.

The pilot of the 25 and I had been flying together for years, if I was going to trust anybody - it was him.

"Yeah, I'm good". I whisper Jesus' name for the first time.

We started down while VFR to match speeds and close the distance. The 38 is not an easy airplane to fly in formation, the engine nacelle and mid-wing require you to stack down, slightly under the lead aircraft, if level - raising a wing blocks your view in that direction.

I find my spot on the 25, maneuver into position and stay focused on that spot, I no longer look forward. Blue sky surrounding the 25 turns white, we are in the clouds. Water drops form streaks across my windshield, I press in a bit tighter. Wisps of white appear between me and the 25, I press as close as I dare. My left wing is just inside the right wing of the 25, I'm stacked down, looking up at the crew in the side window of the 25. I see thumbs raised and feel water on my face, then I realize - it's not rain, it's sweat. I confess to Jesus, "This was a bad idea".

The pilot of the 25 knows I can't look at my instruments so he calls out altitudes and distance to the airport, airspeed won't matter until we get close. For now I just stay in position.

"Coming up on 10 miles out, slight right turn on to the localizer, stay with me".

This was the, "I can't believe I talked myself into this phase". "OK, I'm in your hands". I was actually talking to Jesus, I had no choice but to stick with the 25.

We continue through the clouds and then I hear over the radio, "Ceiling 1200', visibility 3 miles - light rain".

This is going to work.

Through the narrow space between the nacelle and cockpit I start to pick up the ground.

From the 25 I hear, "3 miles and 1000' - runway in sight. I slide right of the 25, and we both slow to approach speed and configure for landing.

"You land, I'm going around", I look over at the 25 and see my friend nod toward the runway.

At 500' the 25 stops his descent, powers up, raises gear and flaps and executes a hard left turn to circle back and land. Vapor trails are forming off the wingtips. Awesome - thank you Jesus.

I was asked later what I was thinking at that time; my answer was, I was picturing the cover of Air Classics Magazine with the headline: Experienced Warbird Pilot Makes Fatal Mistake. I imagined the funeral, "How could he have been so stupid?" Well, how could I have been so stupid - apparently it's not as difficult as one would like to think.

Any landing you can walk away from is a good landing......being able to save your aircraft is a much better landing.

 

[Osama Mahdi]

Many experiences to count. In the war and war zone category, survived an enemy sniper round (he missed by a few inches), IEDs, car bombs, several rocket and mortar attacks, and other ‘fun’ stuff. When you’re young and naïve, you think it all seems exciting and cool.

 

[Franco]

Any landing you can walk away from is a good landing......being able to save your aircraft is a much better landing.

Thank you, I appreciate that. But in retrospect, the better choice would have been to not put the airplane in jeopardy. Using ability to get out of a situation discretion should have never allowed you to enter - is playing against the odds.

 

[Scott CWO]

1. June 19, 2016 shot at while on foot and chased by nine Lord’s Resistance Army cult members with AK-47s in the Central African Republic. Barely got away and into the Land Cruiser and still taking fire. Both rear tires shot out and some bullets entered the cab and through my headrest and windshield. Then detained/trapped in a small village by the villagers to be traded to the LRA for their lives if LRA came. Was rescued by UN troops and Ripcord flew me out and back home. Every day since is a bonus.

2. Nearly drowned at night after being swept downstream while carrying a backpack trying to cross the river in hip waders. Waders filled with water. Finally got the backpack off and waders off and made it to shore.

3. Slammed into the front wall of a horse trailer while trying to untie a horse that freaked out and lunged forward. I was knocked out. Woke up and untied the horse but fainted again once out of the trailer.

4. Nearly decapitated while riding an ATV. Passing through an open gate at fairly high speed when I caught a glimpse of a wire hanging down from the overhead part of the gate. I instinctively ducked and turned my head to the left. The wire caught my right ear and nearly tore it off.

5. Charged by a gut-shot 6x7 bull elk. I had a split second to shoot and then jumped out of the way. The shot was true and the bull fell dead where I had been standing.

6. While packing a client’s bighorn ram up and out of an avalanche chute using both hands and feet to climb, I lost my footing and fell 10 feet down a small cliff and started rolling down the chute. I was able to stop rolling by doing a spread eagle with my arms and legs.

7. Numerous “high-speed get-offs” while racing motocross for American Honda in my teens and 20s. A really bad concussion and broken helmet from one crash. Double compound fracture of tibia and fibula in another. Broken elbow from another, etc, etc…

 

[steve white]

Well, looking back… a few experiences do some to mind.

1) I killed three man eating Royal Bengal tigers with a single barrel Pakistani 12 gauge & a 7x57mm Mauser. I still don’t know what I was thinking when I went after them with such inferior armaments.

2) I hunted Sunda Sambar and Babirusa in Indonesia without knowing that the hunt was actually illegal at the time. A month after I returned back home (miraculously enough without even the slightest problems), I learnt that my outfitters had been arrested. Considering that the Indonesian government has a reputation for executing people for very little reason, I never set foot in Indonesia ever again.

3) I was nearly killed by a charging bull tusker during an elephant hunt (my third so far) in 2006. I was armed with a .375 Holland & Holland Magnum pre ‘64 Winchester Model 70 loaded with 300Gr Prvi Partizan copper jacketed round nosed FMJ solids. During the hunt, the bull charged after I attempted a frontal brain shot. I fired three more rounds (a full magazine) at the inbound elephant’s skull without being able to even slightly stagger him (I was to later learn that the jackets on the bullets were far too thin & were causing the bullets to break apart on impact). I wouldn’t have survived that day, had Devon (my fearless white hunter) not dropped the bull cleanly with a single frontal brain shot from his .505 Gibbs Vektor Magnum Mauser (loaded with hand loaded 600Gr DZOMBO brass flat nosed Mark 6 monolithic solids). The ordeal made me swear off PRVI Partizan .375 Holland & Holland Magnum ammunition. It’s not a very macho thing to admit to on an online forum… but this incident also led me to develop a subconscious psychological fear of elephants, ever since then. I have never gone elephant hunting after that day. But I sincerely hope to overcome my fears one day, and hunt a huge super tusker in Tanzania.

4) During the Indo-Pak war, I once came back to camp after my shift in night patrol. I was quite shaken to find a fresh bullet hole in the top of my cap. Somebody had taken a shot at me and missed my head by maybe a millimeter. And I wasn’t even aware of how it happened.

Don't worry, you're not the only one! I will not mention the name of a well known PH in Zimbabwe whose father was also a PH. He was leading a client for a tusker, when a shadow loomed over him--it was an unseen askari young bull who was moving as silently as elephant have the ability to do. He leaped to the side, but was tusked through the thigh and the elephant tossed him like a frisbee just with a turn of his head. Fortunately did not follow up, and the wound did not involve the femoral artery.

My point is that he temporarily lost his nerve. Upon later pulling a boat up to shore he was calmly sitting taking in the view when an elephant innocently came down to water about 50 meters away. He shook so much he could not move, involuntarily of course, but it was a real eye opener to him how he had been frozen in place. He is back in business and this was decades ago. It's just your body refusing temporarily to let you drag it into harms way.

 

[steve white]

Permit me to relate how my little brother was put in harms way in Central America. It was one of those classified activities that happen often without the world knowing there is even a skirmish. He was in a small, hastily built air traffic control tower when it was shot down to the ground. Though riddled with bullet holes, no one was hit. He said, "you don't know how fast or how far you can duck walk to get out of a situation."
Later he was in Desert Storm with the AF, but not as dangerous as the skirmish was to his health.