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$45 upfront payment equivalent to $15 per month. New customers on first three-month plan only. Taxes and fees extra. Speeds lower above 40 gigabytes. See details. It's just after 9.30 a.m. on August the 24th, 2017. Somewhere high up in the Rockies of Alberta, Canada. Despite the bright morning sun, the mountain air is crisp. 32-year-old Jeremy Evans crouches amongst the tree roots and bracken.
The forest mulch under his knee, still thawing from the nighttime frost, soaks into his skin. Holding his breath, Jeremy slowly raises his binoculars to his eyes. He scans the ridgeline and smiles to himself. There, in the distance, he sees movement. Camouflaged against the gray shale slope is a band of sheep, and the prize he's long been seeking: a trophy bighorn ram.
Beside him on the ground, tied to his backpack, is his rifle case. It's loaded, but not quite ready to use. It would still take a few minutes to unholster and prep. Watching the distant slope, he considers the best approach. He can barely contain his excitement. The big horn ram is only found on the highest, most rugged alpine slopes. Hunters like Jeremy have to trek deep into the wilderness to even get close to one.
And being up in the mountains, isolated and alone, means far greater danger should anything go wrong. As I was sitting there watching the sheep, I moved my hands away to look down, and I caught a glimpse of a little brown thing ran in front of me. It was about 10 feet away. I knew exactly what it was. I had this feeling of, I knew I was in trouble. From just 10 feet away, Jeremy instantly recognizes the small brown shape disappearing into the foliage.
It's a bear cub. And where there's a bear cub, there's danger. With grizzly bears, most of the time the cubs are running around and mama's following. So I knew if I got between the cub and mama that she'd get very defensive and they get very aggressive. They're just like a mama trying to protect her baby. So I knew that mama was close and I knew that trouble would be coming. Jeremy is experienced. He knows the terrain and has come prepared.
But before he has a chance to react, trouble comes crashing out of the bush. As I went to turn and look, their mama was, she was about four feet away. Her right front paw was stretched right out. I could see the claws. I could see the whites of her eyes on the left side. Her mouth was slightly open and she was on a full charge.
Ever wondered what you would do when disaster strikes? If your life depended on your next decision, could you make the right choice? Welcome to Real Survival Stories. These are the astonishing tales of ordinary people thrown into extraordinary situations and suddenly forced to fight for their lives. In this episode, we meet Canadian outdoorsman Jeremy Evans, a man most at home hiking and fishing in the Alberta wilderness.
That is, until he stumbles across the grizzly and her cub. Scarcely surviving a frenzied attack, Jeremy will be left battered and broken, not knowing if or when the bear will return. And yet, despite the utterly dire straits, something inside Jeremy will push him towards home, compelling him to just keep going. I'm John Hopkins. From Noisa, this is Real Survival Stories.
It's just after midnight on August 24th, 2017. Jeremy Evans prepares to set off on his hunting expedition into the Alberta backcountry. Jeremy's been looking forward to this trip all year, a journey into a landscape he knows and loves. My name is Jeremy Evans. I'm an avid outdoorsman. I love to hunt, fish, hike, travel around, and run around in the bush like a wild man.
On the day of August 24, 2017, I was set out to go on a four-day sheep hunt out in the wilderness of Alberta. It's one of my favorite places to be. Me and my wife do a lot of fishing in there. I've hunted in there over 17 years. I know the area quite well. I know every little waterfall, every little pool. It's a very beautiful place.
Jeremy is venturing up into the Alberta Rockies, part of the mountain range which starts in the northernmost part of Western Canada and sweeps 5,000 kilometers all the way down to New Mexico. It's home to some of the world's most spectacular scenery and wildlife, and heaven on earth for all sorts of adventurers. For Jeremy, this means hiking, hunting, and fishing. But it's not just about the chase or even the prize. Being out here gives him a profound connection to the natural world.
Being out there in the wilderness, it's not about harvesting an animal. It's actually about being there and seeing them. You know, every year I go out and not every year you get something. Time goes by really quick when you're sitting there watching, you know, a deer walk by or when you're sitting in a tree stand, you have an owl landing in the tree next to you and it's bobbing its head and looking at you and flapping its wings, trying to get you to react. Or when you watch a squirrel run around and collect the pine cones and sit there and chew on them. It's just being out there and seeing them.
The animals we harvest, we eat. I don't have to buy meat every year, so I hunt enough and harvest enough that I don't have to buy beef or chicken. There's nothing beats a big old moose steak on the grill. This trip is a particularly special one for Jeremy. He wants to shoot a bighorn ram during the short window of the hunting season. It's a long-held ambition of his. The bighorn is the unofficial mascot of the Rocky Mountains.
The rams are recognizable, as their name suggests, by their thick, curved horns. Bagging a bighorn is the ultimate goal of many Canadian hunters. Alberta has strict regulations, meaning only the most mature bighorns are fair game. Sometimes called the "monarch of the mountains," an eight-year-old ram can be almost two meters long and weigh up to 150 kilograms.
To reach this grand old age, the sheep must necessarily be a survivor and not easily caught. And for me, that's always been on my bucket list. Up to this point, I've spent 17 years looking for one. I've found lots of sheep, but never found one big enough or that I thought was legal. But this time, Jeremy thinks he might finally do it. He's been tracking a specific band of sheep on and off for months now and feels like he's getting close.
2017 was my year to shoot a sheep. I was out there pretty much every day in the summertime. I found the rams. I was constantly out there watching them, following them, finding out every move they make. I was getting really excited for this day. I booked off four days off of work and my plan was to get there the day before opening season, set up my camp, find my rams, and then opening day, harvest my ram, and then pack up and head home. This was the trip.
So, in the middle of the night on August the 24th, at his home in Calgary, Jeremy throws clothes and provisions into his rucksack and loads his mountain bike onto the back of his truck. Amongst the other last-minute items, he remembers to grab his can of bear spray. It's one of those things you never expect to use, but you wouldn't dare leave home without it. Deployed within a few meters, in over 90% of cases, it'll do the trick.
The night is cool, but Jeremy wants to get started before the warm August sun rises. He drives up into the mountains and after three hours or so he arrives at the dirt trail he has in mind. He parks his truck in the usual spot. From this point on, he'll have to cycle. He pulls his mountain bike from the vehicle and sets off with his 45 kilo pack and his rifle up the 14 kilometer trail.
It was quite a peaceful ride down the trail, except the moon, moon shining bright. You could see the glow off all the rocks, the spruce trees, how they, like the deep, dark green glow in the, in the night. And riding the bike in, very quiet. You can hear the wind blowing through the trees and hear the leaves kind of rustling. This is freedom. Immersed in the whispering breeze, the smell of spruces, the occasional owl hooting.
the sound of the bike tires on the dirt track. It's now almost 4 a.m., but still sometime before sunrise, so Jeremy must rely on the moon to light his way as he rides through the night into the dawn.
It's a very quiet place. You don't hear people, you don't hear the airplanes. You see all the stars shining and sometimes you get the northern lights that come swinging through, so it's kind of neat. It kind of paints the sky, gives you lots of light. I guess it's like going to see Christmas lights at times because everything's all sparkly and then you get the glow of the moon, so you don't need a flashlight. It's pretty nice. He's headed for the place on the mountain where he'll be camping for the next three nights.
After a couple of hours, Jeremy passes two cowboys, camping out themselves, having coffee around a fire. He nods a hello, they nod back. Jeremy makes a mental note. These old boys might be the only other humans for miles around, and it's always good to be aware of the nearest help. In the wilderness, even small accidents can prove fatal. Aside from slips and falls, hunting wild game deep in the backcountry brings its own dangers.
Wolves, cougars and coyotes are one thing, but this part of Canada is known for its population of brown bears, or grizzlies as they are affectionately known in North America. As Jeremy hits the highest part of the trail, it's a thought he can't ignore. It wouldn't be the first time he's run into one up here.
This spot always made me pretty nervous because in years in the past I ran into grizzly bears in there and had a few experiences where I've had some bears, I startled them and they would stand up and grunt at you and you're trying to find out where they are in the trees and a little bit of anxiety when it hit that portion of the trail.
Jeremy's managed to avoid a direct confrontation in the past, but he's right to be cautious. 183 brown bear attacks were reported in North America between 2000 and 2015, with around 14% resulting in human fatalities. Known for the white flecks of fur in their otherwise dark brown coats, their moniker speaks to their grizzled appearance, but their scientific name tells another story.
Ursus Arctos Horribilis, as in horrible. Imagine an eight-foot tall beast, weighing nearly half a ton, with bone-crushing jaws, powerful paws, and long, razor-sharp claws, charging at you at over 30 miles per hour. In reality, though, grizzlies are solitary, and attacks are rare, usually a protective mother defending her young. So Jeremy knows what to look out for, at least in theory.
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Then he reaches a plateau covered in spruce. It's a perfect spot to look for sheep on the adjacent ridgeline. To his excitement, Jeremy soon spots a slow-moving clump of grey blobs in the distance. Big horns. He takes off his backpack, rests it against his bike, and lifts his binoculars to get a better look. And I noticed that there's a couple young rams in there.
I was thinking, well, that's probably my band of rams I've been following all year. It looked like the two of the bachelors in the group. So I started sneaking my way up down the trail and would go about 10 feet and stop for 10 minutes and just sneak my way along. And then I got a better look at him and I was like, oh, there's my rams. Jeremy moves up slowly. Keeping low, he shuffles through the sloped forest. He's on foot, pushing his bike, picking his way through the bracken.
I knew right away
I was in danger. It was one of those old crap moments where it'd be like driving a race car and you hit the wall and you're flying through the air. You know eventually you're going to hit the ground, you just don't know when. And it's just that uneasy feeling in between. You know, I was thinking, where's mama? And she's got to be close by. And did I get between them or did they get between me? And it's just a very uneasy feeling that makes your hair stand on back of your neck. And I just knew...
I was in a bad situation. The cub has disappeared into the bush. Jeremy quickly pulls off his pack and digs around for his bear spray, but it's buried deep inside, and his gun is still tightly strapped to the bag. It'll take him at least a few seconds to get it free. Before he can arm himself, he hears a sound that sends a shiver down his spine. I heard a branch break over my right shoulder, and as I went to turn and look...
Their mama was, she was about four feet away. Her right front paw was stretched straight out. I could see the claws. I could see the whites of her eyes on the left side. Her mouth was slightly open and she was on a full charge. Jeremy moves fast. He grabs his bike and throws it in the way of the grizzly now flying towards him, gnashing her teeth and growling. Her head is propelled through the bike frame and she catches her front paw in the wheel.
As she struggles to get free, Jeremy grabs his rucksack and holds it up in front of him. With the rifle still tethered and bear spray stuffed inside, this pack is now his only defense. She had the bike on her head and she was tossing around and I grabbed my backpack. It's a big frame backpack, it's got two metal rails on the side and grabbed that. First thing I did was just take the pack and smash it over her head as hard as I could and smashed her in the face trying to push her off.
She shook the bike off and she came kind of charging in. She grabbed the back of the backpack and was, had her teeth on it and she shook it and then I kept pushing on her and smashing her in the face and she managed to grab my right hand through the pack frame and crush it against the frame and bust up some of my fingers. She got the left hand too when I was beating her with it and then she stopped and turned around and started to walk away. The bear seems to have lost interest.
Perhaps she no longer considers him a threat. He isn't going to wait to find out. Jeremy takes his chance to make a break for it. Casting around, he decides scaling a tree is the safest move. Grizzlies aren't known for their climbing skills, but he needs to get up higher, so he starts running up the mountainside. If he can quickly gain some elevation, he might be able to leap back into the branches of a sufficiently tall tree. But as soon as he starts sprinting, he hears the heavy thud of the bear close behind him.
So I ran about 60 or so feet, found a tree that was fairly big. I jumped off the side of the hill into the tree. My right leg was hanging low. I just remember I grabbed the branches and was starting to pull my leg up. And as I was pulling it up, she was right there behind me. As I was climbing the tree, I can just hear her huffing as she's running in, like breathing deep in heaven. You can just hear her like pouncing behind you. Stock halfway up a spruce, Jeremy can't get away.
He looks down to see the grizzly wrapping her claws around his right leg, which is still dangling below him. "I just remember looking down as she's bringing my right leg into her mouth and she grabbed right behind my right knee and I could just, I just remember seeing her just crunching and feel the crunch and crack and everything in my knee and I'm just thinking this is gonna hurt." The bear rips Jeremy out of the branches and flings him to the ground.
He rolls under another nearby spruce and wraps himself around the trunk. He tries to lay still and play dead, praying the bear will leave him alone. She had her claws, were digging, trying to grab me, trying to roll me over. She kept hitting the spruce browse until she was frustrated at it. And she just lunged in and grabbed me with her mouth on my right side of my body, just above the hip and kind of below the ribs. She picked me up and shook her head and I flew about six feet.
And I hit the ground and that one really hurt. That one really knocked the wind out of me. Within a split second of me hitting the ground, she was already on top of me, just lightning fast. I didn't even have a chance to react or anything. I was curled up in a ball on my right side and her first bite was right in the corner of my face. The bear savages him with her teeth and claws. Jeremy is locked in a primal fight for his life.
So at this point, I said, heck with playing dead. I rolled over and onto my back and with my right arm, I was punching her in the face, hitting her nose, sticking my fingers in her nose, trying to poke her eye, grab her ear. As she was sitting there snapping her right hand, you could just feel her snot and her drool just dripping down. And the stench of her is like a wet dog mixed with horse manure. Just a very unique smell.
You just see her nose and her lips curl and she's trying to snap away and I snap at my hands. Despite the frenzied violence of the attack, time seems to move slowly. Somehow, Jeremy is able to retain clarity of thought. With the grizzly's jaws open above him, he sees an opportunity. Acting on pure instinct, he shoves his left hand deep into the bear's mouth.
It was like if you're boxing somebody and they drop their hands and you get a clear shot. Well, the way her mouth was coming down, it was wide open. I was able to punch my left hand into her mouth and I punched my hand and shoved my fingers right down her throat. I just remember as my hands were running through her mouth, I could feel her tongue, all the bumps on her tongue, the little scars. It was like leather and I could just feel my hands and it slipped right down to the throat. I shoved my index finger, my middle finger down her throat and I wrapped my hands around her tongue and I was holding on.
The bear starts choking and gagging, but still she pounds away at Jeremy, still caught underneath her paws, crushed by her immense weight. In a final desperate attempt, Jeremy grabs the bear's soft underbelly with his free hand and twists with all his strength. She panics. Mercifully, she releases her grip. She took off running up the mountainside, running away. And I stood right up right away and just kind of dusted myself off.
I walked over to the trail and to the backpack there and I was like, well, that sucked. I was pretty upset and probably a little bit of shock. As the bear lumbers off into the forest, Jeremy is in full survival mode. His fight or flight response is working overtime. Oxygen and adrenaline surge through his veins to his muscles, giving him the strength and energy to get up and move. Endorphins fire through his brain, suppressing the pain receptors in his nervous system and allowing him to think.
Jeremy doesn't yet realize the extent of his injuries. He stumbles back to his rucksack. He sits down, pulls out his phone, opens up the camera function and puts it on selfie mode. Without a mirror, it's the only way to see how he's looking. Took a picture of my face and there was some massive damage to the left side of my face where the skin was peeled down and large chunks of my scalp were ripped open.
And that I was ruffling through my backpack, trying to look for my first aid kit or something that I can use to wrap up my face. I found my first aid kit and as it was opening up, there was nothing in there that was helpful. All the bandages were too small. There wasn't any big rolls of gauze. And I think it was a little bit of shock and the adrenaline was kicking in. I didn't feel any pain at this point. I didn't think my injuries at this point in time were that severe. I didn't think they were that...
I guess life-threatening or that would stop me from continuing on my hunt. I knew that I needed to get out of there soon. Jeremy untangles his rifle from his backpack. Better to be prepared in case the grizzly returns. But in his traumatized state, Jeremy hasn't heard the cracking of undergrowth behind him, nor has he noticed the acrid smell of the bear's breath. The grizzly is already back. I heard the sound of ice cracking again.
I just remember looking down at my hands as I was putting the shells in and my whole arms and everything went numb. And I just dropped the clip. My head kind of slumped down. She had come back from behind me and she grabbed me by the back of the skull. And the sound of the ice break is when she was crushing my skull, the back of my skull. And she started to drag me backwards into the bush again. And you just hear her huffing and just pulling. The bear drags him about 15 foot off the trail.
But then, the bear lifts him off the ground with her teeth and suddenly drops him.
His awful reality has become distant, almost dreamlike, as Jeremy falls through the air. But as his body crashes back to Earth, his senses come roaring back to life, like an electric shock, jump-starting his survival instinct. I fell into the ground, and I could feel my back touch the ground, and it was that moment when everything got reconnected or just kind of re-energized. I could feel my hands again and move them, and I couldn't see at this point. I could feel their belly kind of scraping against my face.
And I reached up and grabbed something soft with both hands. I twisted and pulled with all my might. And as I was doing that, I was pulling my body up. I wrapped my legs around her neck and just held on for dear life. She was bucking like a bronco and she was rolling around on the mountainside, just flipping around. She was squealing, deep, deep squeal like a pig. The sound still haunts me today. Like a pig squeal, really deep, deep voice.
She was in full panic mode. Finally, the bear lets him go. She flees, running off down the mountainside in the direction of her cub, leaving Jeremy gasping, lying in the dirt. He's in agony, but somehow he's still alive. It's a miracle. However, he's alone, stranded off the trail, high up in the Alberta Rockies, and his ordeal is by no means complete. The grizzly has left Jeremy mutilated and bleeding.
Despite the incredible pain, he scrambles back down the slope to the trail. He soon comes across his backpack. He has no idea how far the bear has retreated or if it'll come back for yet another round. When I got to my pack, I was looking for my gun, panicking. I couldn't see and I found my gun right away. And I was looking for the clip.
Well, I went to go put a shell in the gun. I couldn't see to put the shell into the chamber and the gun usually has a clip, so it's hard to get the bullet in and I couldn't see and my fingers were all messed up going different directions and big holes in them. So I just, I couldn't get it in and I was freaking out and I was feeling around for the clip. Well, the first thing I found on the ground was my mustache and goatee. And then I found my ear and I found some more chunks of my face and I was just feeling around and then
I found the clip and the first thing I did was slam the clip in. Jeremy sees dark shapes looming all around him. He fires gunshots off in every direction. Any one of them could be the bear, but it seems this time she's gone for good. He slumps back, utterly exhausted. You know, I was sitting there and I got all these pieces of me and at this point in time, I, you know, things were, I was probably not going to make it out. I grabbed my phone and started texting my wife.
I knew she wasn't going to get him. I had no service, but I knew if they found me, they would see the text, certain messenger telling that I love her and that I'm going to miss her. When he's finished typing the message, he sits back for a moment, considering what to do next. I knew at this point I wasn't going to make it. I kind of gave it up. This was probably one of the darkest moments of my life. I loaded up my rifle and debating, you know, do I hike out of here or do I just end it?
He tries the trigger again, and again it clicks. Cursing, Jeremy lowers the gun and fiddles with the bolt, pointing the firearm away from himself. He squeezes the trigger once more. The loud report brings Jeremy to his senses.
Kind of scared me for a second. I was like, oh, what's going on? Then I pulled the gun away. And at that moment, I figured I owed it to my wife at least to try to get out or try to get further down the trail where somebody is going to find me. Jeremy ties a T-shirt around his head as a makeshift bandage and climbs to his feet. Swaying, he takes a few steps forward and collapses. This is going to be anything but easy.
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The place where I was was kind of on a game trail and there's probably maybe a half a dozen people in a year that go that far back. And so my object was just get to the horse trail, at least the outfitters will have a chance of finding me or get to the main trail. So I decided to try to get out. It's now mid-morning on August the 24th, 2017. The sun is out and it's getting hotter by the minute. Jeremy edges his way back down the mountainside. He's patched himself up the best he can.
I lost my footing.
And I tumbled all the way down to the bottom, probably about 250, 300 feet, all the way down into the big boulders in the bottom. I remember laying there tangled in the rocks. Everything really hurt at this moment. I couldn't move. I'd given up again. I just was laying there in so much pain. If he can just fall asleep, he might pass easier. He digs out his phone, hoping to play some music to distract himself. What happens next will prove to be his salvation. I pulled out my cell phone,
And I was going to play some music just to help me fall asleep. And they given up and pulled my phone and I couldn't really see the screen. And I can just thank God for the iPhone with the colored icon. So I was clicking away and found the one for the music and turned it on. And the first song that came on was Baby Shark.
We used to play it for my daughter, or anytime she had a rough night or couldn't sleep, we'd play that for her, and it would stop her from crying, smooth it out, so I was laying there and listening to Baby Shark, and it was on repeat. That made me want to get back up and keep trying to get further down the trail. The inches on hands and knees, crawling in the direction of the cowboys he passed earlier.
And I was walking down the trail and I was turned looking into the bush and I couldn't see more than three, four feet. And so I was slowly dragging myself along the trail, looking into the trees where the cowboys were. But when he finally gets to the spot, there's no one there. The cowboys are gone. Fire is out. The tents are nowhere to be seen. Jeremy is still all alone. All he can do now is keep stumbling down the trail as far as he can. I knew I wasn't going to make it.
My goal was just to get to the next trail, get further, because I didn't want my wife to have to wait for them to find the body. I wanted her to know right away what happened. It's past midday and the sun is beating down. Jeremy has covered his torso with a jumper to protect his wounds from the worst of the heat. But by now, several hours after the attack, he's lost a lot of blood. He loses his footing and tumbles into a creek. The fall is excruciating.
But the gushing cold water refreshes him, at least enough to take stock of his situation. It's beyond belief how far he's made it already. And now he knows that if he can follow the creek downstream just a little further, he could actually make it to Burnt Timber, an outfitter camp owned by a local family. It's often used in the hunting season as a base camp. If he can get there, maybe, just maybe, he'll find help, or at least a working phone or radio.
And I knew if I just made my way down the creek, I'd get to the Outfitters tent. And there's always somebody at the Outfitters tent. Every year I've been in there, there's always been somebody in there. I was making my way down the creek and I got to the Outfitters tent. So I opened it up. And as I was walking into there, there was no horses. Everything was all set up. I couldn't hear anybody in there. I opened up the first tent, looked, nobody there. And I made my way to the second tent, opened that up, nobody there.
It's like Jeremy is the only one on the entire mountain. He tears through the tents, searching for a radio. He pulls out drawers and busts into cabinets. He does find some tinned food and fruit juice. He manages to smash these open and consume a little. With the Baby Shark song still playing on repeat on his phone, he rouses himself to carry on walking. But looking around, even considering his predicament, he's suddenly embarrassed by the mess he's left behind. He's ransacked the camp, and there's blood everywhere.
Despite the more than extenuating circumstances, he feels obliged to apologize to the owners. I found a piece of paper and a sharpie and sent the table. I wrote a little note to the outfitter letting him know that sorry for making a big mess and getting blood all over the place. And on the backside was more of a note to my wife just to let her know that I tried. Leaving the camp, Jeremy fires off the last rounds of his gun just in case anyone is anywhere nearby.
he leaves the rifle next to his note. At one point, he thinks he can see someone approaching, but his eyes are so badly damaged and he's in so much pain, he has mistaken a tree for a human being. Jeremy trudges ever onwards, his gaze now fixed on his feet as they take agonizing, faltering steps. But eventually, he feels the gradient changing. He's going uphill. He suddenly realizes that he can't be far from where his truck is parked.
Can he really have made it all the way back down the trail? He sees an odd-looking rock formation in the middle of the path. It looks familiar. Walking up, I just remember washing my feet, and I got to these two rocks, and I was so happy when I got to these rocks. It just meant so much to me. I was a little over a kilometer away from my truck, and I was three-quarters of the way up the hill. I knew I was going to make it at that point. Less than an hour later,
Jeremy is stood next to his truck, but he can't stop now. Somehow, he must try and drive down the mountain.
As soon as I got to my truck, I pushed the driver's side mirror out of the way. I didn't really want to know what it looked like at this point. I didn't know what it looked like, but I knew it was bad. I remember looking out the windshield and I couldn't see the end of the hood. I couldn't tell where the end of the hood was. I rolled down the window. I couldn't see the ground. I couldn't tell where it was. And just thinking like, well, how am I going to get out of here? When I looked forward, it just was...
dark green on the sides and you can see like a light spot down the middle. I figured the light spot was the road and I was just going to aim for the light spot and drive. Jeremy has 22 kilometers to complete to get off the mountain. It's a gravel road with hairpin bends and a sheer drop. The only guardrail between him and the ravine consists of steel posts with a cable stretched between them.
With the baby shark tune now pumping out of his car speaker, thoughts of his wife and daughter push him on. I was going pretty slow and really hard to tell what was going on, you know, hitting all the bumps. And I thought I was driving with my truck against the side of the trees and in the ditch. This drive normally takes about 10 minutes and I think it took me probably about 45 minutes to an hour. Jeremy finally hits the highway with his truck still in one piece.
He knows there are some holiday resorts nearby. He and his wife stayed at one of them earlier this year. He rolls into the parking lot, climbs out, and staggers up to a cabin. Catching sight of him, a startled kid screams for his grandma. Caked in dirt and covered in blood, Jeremy must make for a terrifying sight.
Grandma came out and I couldn't hardly talk. I said, "No, I just need some help." I got mauled by a bear. And, you know, of course the first reaction was like, "Oh my God." The first thing I did was hand him my cell phone and hand him my wallet, let him know who I was to call for help. And they asked me like, "Is there anything we can do for you?" And I asked for a glass of medium temperature water, no ice and a straw. I could at least suck from a straw. And so they got that for me right away.
It's far too early for Jeremy to begin processing his ordeal. It was earlier this very morning that he was cycling along the trail, ready to hunt bighorn rams. He's almost certainly suffering severe shock, but hearing the people at the cabin running around in panic, he now does his best to reassure them. Then the owner of the lodge come in there and she's freaking out and I can hear them calling 911 and talking to somebody and
Everybody was kind of panicking and I remember sitting there and I could hear him running back and forth across the gravel and I just kept telling him, like, you know, you guys need to calm down. You know, I was joking around a little bit, like, hey guys, I'm just missing my face, like, it's no big deal, just relax, I'm okay. At one point, a park ranger wanders over to see what the commotion is about. He nearly faints when he sees Jeremy's injuries. Finally, someone tells Jeremy that help is on its way.
The helicopter landed and the doors opened up and everybody was calm at that moment. Like, you know, everybody was like, "Oh, you know, just another guy get chewed on by a bear and it can't be that bad because he's sitting up." And I turned and looked at him and then that's when things went crazy. Jeremy has flown to a Calgary hospital and rushed into surgery. He'll be in there for 13 hours while the doctors stabilize him and attempt to repair his severed ligaments and fractured legs.
When he finally wakes up, he struggles to grasp the extent of his injuries. I had casts over both arms. I didn't think I had a left arm. It was in a cast and I couldn't feel anything. My right leg was in a full cast. I couldn't move or feel anything. I thought they cut it off at the knee. I didn't know for about two, three days if I had any of these body parts left. Even my wife and friend didn't know. He spends five weeks in the hospital.
The doctors perform further surgery to reverse the most serious skin and nerve damage. During this time, supported by his wife and young daughter, Jeremy begins to process just how close he came to losing his life. After the last surgery, or the last big surgery, they moved me into a private room onto the burn unit.
We specialized in skin grafts, and I had a couple of skin grafts. They put me in a private room because I'd have severe nightmares and flashbacks, and somebody had to be with me 24-7 to calm me down. Originally, everybody would try to hold me down when I'm tossing and turning, but that's what the bear did, and that would make it worse. Jeremy suffers from PTSD for years after the attack and continues to be haunted by it. But over time, with therapy and the love of his family...
He gradually learns to deal with the trauma. He is able to return to his life. Today, Jeremy continues to enjoy spending time out in the backcountry. He's even bagged the prize bighorn ram he always wanted. Though now, when he heads up to the mountains, he always has his radio and his bear spray close to hand. It's a huge achievement just to be able to go back into the woods or even to go back at my passions that I love to do.
I see this as you shouldn't let tragic things detry from achieving or doing things you love to do like your passions. Looking back, he says that the attack and its aftermath did teach him a valuable lesson. I always knew I wasn't going to make it out and my goal was just to make it a little bit further down the trail. I made it out and I didn't look at it as the whole picture of me making it to my truck. I just made it, you know, make it 100 yards down the trail, make it to the next tree, the next drainage.
When you make mini goals like that, you can achieve incredible things. Next time, we meet Mark Inglis, a 23-year-old search and rescue mountaineer. A young New Zealander whose job is to rescue other people. But on a routine practice mission, he'll find himself in deep trouble. A freak storm will turn what should have been a straightforward climb into a terrifying fight for survival. In worsening conditions, Mark and his partner Phil will find shelter
But with their rations diminishing and their bodies deteriorating, how long can they hold out? That's next time on Real Survival Stories.