Trapped – The Aron Ralston Story. Part 2.
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CHAPTER 3
Days One to Four
At first, the pain had been so great that he could hardly think. He had panicked, screaming out then pushing and pulling desperately at the huge boulder to try and free his trapped wrist. Nothing! There was no way the rock would come loose. As the adrenaline lessened, Aron was able to think more clearly about his situation. He knew he only had enough water to survive a few days or so at most. Unfortunately, however, the water bottle was in his backpack, and he wasn’t sure he could get it out. Pulling his arm out of one strap, he pushed his head through the other one and managed to slide the pack down to his feet.
He drank from his water bottle so quickly that, before he realised it, almost a third of his water was gone. This was serious. He needed to save his water, or he would die for sure.
He had to think seriously about his options. What were they? He looked at his things. Apart from his CD player and video camera, he had his water, his ropes and rock climbing gear, his cheap multi-tool knife, his camera, and a small flashlight. He could only think of two options. First, he could try to cut away the rock from around his arm, though this seemed impossible with the small knife he was carrying. Second, he could try to use his ropes to lift the boulder off his arm, but that also seemed impossible. Then suddenly he had a third idea that made him shake with fear. He could amputate his own arm. His hand was already turning gray through the loss of blood, and he knew that, if he didn’t get free very soon, he would lose it. But cut off his own arm? “No,” he thought, “anything but that.”
He decided to try to cut through the rock. After several hours, he had done little more than make a few scratches. Night had fallen and the canyon was turning cold. Exhausted and frightened, he sat back and tried to make himself as comfortable as possible for his first night in the canyon.
At dawn on the second day, he decided to try and use his climbing gear to lift the boulder off his arm. He had seen a rocky ledge above him, and he thought he might be able to throw his rope over the ledge and pull the boulder up.
He spent two hours throwing his rope up until finally it caught. For the next few hours, he pulled on the rope with all his strength, but without success. The boulder didn’t even move an inch.
For the first time, he began to think seriously about cutting off his arm. Aron realised he would need to tie something tightly around his arm to stop the bleeding. He decided to use a strap off his gear to make a tourniquet. He tied it tightly round his forearm, and then slowly moved his knife towards his wrist. He felt sick. He couldn’t do it. He really couldn’t. A wave of despair overcame him. He hated this place. He hated this canyon. He hated this boulder. Then, slowly, he calmed down. There was no one at fault here but himself. He should have let someone know where he was going. As night came, he fell in and out of consciousness, losing track of time. And every time he woke, the terrible pain in his right arm reminded him of the hopeless situation he was in.
By day three he knew he had to amputate. He re-tightened the tourniquet and pushed his knife against the flesh above his wrist. It wouldn’t cut. He couldn’t believe it. It was so dull from cutting the rock the day before that it wouldn’t even cut the skin. He had run out of options. Aron was desperate. Night came again. It brought more darkness, more cold, and more pain.
On the morning of day four, Aron felt close to the end. He had 90 millilitres of water left – just enough to fill a small glass. He knew there was little chance of rescue, and he began to accept the unthinkable: he was going to die right here in this canyon. He thought about his parents and his sister. He felt so stupid and guilty for the pain they would feel over his death. He got out his video camera and recorded a message for them. He told them he was sorry, how proud he was of them, and how much he loved them. Finally, he asked anybody who found his body to please make sure his parents got the video. When he finished, he felt strangely happy.
Suddenly, Aron remembered the shorter blade on his knife, which he had not used on the rock. Using all his courage, he pushed the blade hard into his wrist. Amazed, he looked at the blade stuck in his arm. He couldn’t believe what he had just done. Surprisingly, there was no pain. It was as though his hand was already dead and no longer a part of him. He continued to cut with the knife until he felt it hit the bone. He tried, but there was just no way the little blade could cut through bone. He gave up, and in his despair he drank down the rest of his water. It felt so good.