Fighting frostbite is not fun

Halfway between my beak and sideburns is a patch of frostbite.

What is frostbite, and how it can affect people. This old grey-beard was out today for three hours trying to dig out from last night's storm. The air temperature was 6 above, and a strong swirling west wind had my facial hair frozen solid.

Was I aware of it? Duh! Of course, every time I wiped my nose, it grated ice against my cheeks. But I'm all too aware of the danger of frostbite from previous experiences, and it's something the general outdoor media really doesn't cover very often.

My first bout with frostbite came many years ago. At the time my twin brother and I lived in Clio, our old hometown, and every Friday night we would go to the Frankenmuth Conservation Club and shoot skeet and trap.

This particular evening was about 10 above zero with a 20 miles-per-hour breeze. We had a new guy shooting with us, and he was slow and very deliberate. I never could shoot well with gloves on, and held my shotgun in my left hand, waiting my turn. It was taking twice as long to shoot a round as normal, and by the time everyone had fired 25 shots, the fingers on my left hand felt oddly numb.

What’s wrong with my hand?

My shotgun was cased, and we walked to the clubhouse. George said: "What's wrong with your left hand?"

I looked down and the fingers were white and looked as if they had been dusted with powdered sugar. I couldn't bend them, and went into the bathroom to run some warm (not hot) water on them.

It took about five minutes for the fingers to start thawing, and that is when the pain kicked in. The pain was enough to bring tears to my eyes, and I softly dried them off, stuck my left hand under my right armpit and said we had to leave.

Some skin was lost off my fingers but I didn't lose any digits. Two or three years later, while running fox with hounds. I got my right hand wet, and one of my fingers developed frostbite.

Again, some skin peeling but no permanent loss providing you don't count very tender pinkies. If my fingers get cold, they hurt, and this is a lingering result of frostbite earlier in life.

Winter ice fishing is a great deal of fun but wet hands can lead to frostbite.

One might think me a bit foolish to have suffered two bouts of frostbitten fingers, and I'd agree. Even more troubling was getting caught out in a blizzard of 1978, burying my vehicle in a four-foot drift and having to walk over two miles home into a stout north wind wasn’t fun.

That trip involved walking into the teeth of a 40-knot wind without any protection for my beak. Now, my nose isn't small and dainty. It rides on the leading edge of my face like a miniature ski slope. The thing sticks out quite a bit, and is subject to a skin-peeling wind and cold temperatures.

By the time I made it home, the end of it was slightly frosted. A warm washcloth helped, but as it thawed out, it felt like a mad dog was trying to eat it off my face. Again, some skin peeled off, and it too is very sensitive to the cold.

In the early 1980s, I was riding on a snowmobile with another guy after ice fishing, and we had several miles to go to get back to my vehicle in sub-zero temperatures. I had a warm snowmobite suit, good boots and mittens, but no protection for my face as I clung to the back of a snowmobile going 50 mph down the frozen lake.

It seemed the coldest and longest snowmobile ride of my life.

My cheek seemed to burn, and I held one hand up to block the wind from hitting it directly, and that caused me to nearly fall off the bouncing sled. I tucked my head into the sled owner's back, held on with both hands, and we eventually arrived at the car.

One of my friends spotted my right cheek, ran for his camera, and began shooting pictures. I knew I was a popular guy but when several others showed up to shoot close-ups of my face, I asked the question.

"What's going on?"

"Your right cheek is frostbitten," one of them said. "Hold still and quit moving around, and we'll be done in a few minutes."

The minutes slowly passed, and finally I dug out my cameras amidst all of their howls for me to stand still, and I told one of the guys to shoot several photos. He did, and finally I could get inside out of the cold.

Four times in my life I've had some part of my body frostbitten, and suffered through the thawing-out process. It hurts, and now my hands and face are sensitive to the cold, but I take more precautions.

Anglers, hunters and anyone else who spends time outdoors, especially in brutally cold temperatures, run the risk of frostbite. It's not fun, and needn't happen if the sportsman is properly prepared.

Take this advice from a frostbite pro: cover all exposed skin to avoid problems.

The photo above shows me with frostbite on my cheek. This was a minor case, but another 15 minutes on that sled without facial protection may have disfigured my face. There isn't anything cute about my face, but I've decided that having part of it fall off once the skin and flesh dies, is not my idea of a good time.

Play it safe and cover up in the cold and when strong cold winds blow. It's incredible just how fast fresh can freeze under bad conditions, and the thawing out process is not a walk in the park.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors