Frost Bitten in New Zealand: A Personal Memoir of Suffering Frostbite

It was a cool October morning in the small rural town of Oxford, New Zealand. I had only been in the country for a couple of weeks and was about to climb my first mountain with some classmates. Mt. Oxford would hardly be considered a daunting mountain, yet I was excited to get my feet wet in the world of backpacking and hiking. Clad in a hooded sweatshirt, a pair of shorts, cotton socks and some old tennis shoes I started the ascent. With the area still being in early spring the terrain was a mixture of snow and mud. We couldn't have asked for nicer weather with the temperatures somewhere between high 40's and low 50's, perfect for keeping us cool.

The hike started nicely. We wandered through livestock gates while nearing the base of the mountain. Throwing and dodging speeding snowballs kept all of us on our toes. After a little while the hiking began to get a bit steeper and everyone either retired to their own thoughts or conversation while continuing to plod on. The melting snow made quite a mess out of the trail and produced many cold puddles. I noticed most people taking great pains to avoid these while I in my naivete just walked straight through them. After all, I was getting to be an outdoorsy person and outdoorsy people don't let little puddles bother them. Surely wet feet wouldn't be a problem. It didn't feel that cold out.

Suddenly the mountain got even steeper and the snow I was wading through got quite deep. I was beginning to get very exhausted and had a disconcerting lack of feeling in my feet. Not long after I decided it was time to sit a minute and inspect my feet. Sitting in the snow, I managed to undo my partially frozen shoe laces and slip the freezing cold wet socks off my feet. They certainly didn't look normal. My feet were somewhere between very pale and as white as the snow. I really started to get nervous when I jabbed my fingernail into my foot as hard as I could and didn't feel a thing. The school leader was nearby and I explained to him what was going on. He looked concerned and it became obvious to everyone I was beginning to get bad frostbite. Our next biggest concern became getting me off the mountain and to some medical care. I could still walk fine so I simply put on my shoes(without the soaking wet socks) and began jogging down the mountain with Shane, the school leader, and Bryce, a fellow classmate.

We had been hiking for quite a while and had a good ways to jog back. After running through a particularly deep patch of snow I looked down and realized I had lost a shoe. I was running half barefoot down a snowy mountain and couldn't even feel it! It was like looking for a needle in a haystack through the deep snow for my long lost shoe. The clock was ticking as the frostbite continued to penetrate deeper into my tissue and my mind was quickly filling with what seemed an inevitable amputation.

I'll always be grateful to Shane and Bryce for their quick thinking. Seeing the futility of wasting precious time searching for my shoe they went into action. Bryce took off his nice thick wool hat and wrapped it around my foot while Shane secured it with duct tape. This was my first introduction to the idea of duct tape being a backpacker's best friend, but that's another article. Back in business we started back down the mountain and made it to the van in about 15 minutes or so.

I didn't know it at the time but Bryce had some training through National Outdoors Leadership School and knew just what to do in a situation like this. Shane started the van up and started back for the school base while Bryce and I sat across from each other. He took off his shirt and had me put my bare frozen feet directly on his chest and then covered them up with a fleece.

"Are my feet too cold?" I asked.

"No, they're fine," he lied.

I spent the rest of the ride back hoping and praying that my feet would start to get better. After a few minutes of thawing I began to experience an agonizing pain that seared through my feet like burning pins and needles. As unpleasant as it was, I was grateful to be feeling again, mistakenly thinking this must be a sure sign that my feet weren't permanently damaged. Afterwards, I found that pain is to be expected while the frozen area thaws, but it isn't a guarantee that all is well. We arrived back to the base at the school and I hobbled into the dorm while Shane went to call the local doctor. My feet were still a very pale hue but I was encouraged by the resurgence of feeling in them.

The doctor agreed to see me right away and before I knew it I was right back in the van for a short trip. I entered the waiting room in my flipflops and anxiously began to fill out the paperwork. A woman approached me and suggested that we get my feet in some warm water.

"Are you even a doctor?" I questioned. I didn't mean it as rude as it sounded but I was a bit distracted and had thought I had read somewhere that your not supposed to immerse your feet in warm water when frostbitten. Oops.

"Yes, I am a doctor here," she replied looking taken aback and offended.

This was all a few years ago and my memory fails me as to whether or not I ended up in any hot water, besides what I had gotten into with the doctor. What I do remember though is the strange colors I had never seen my feet turn before. I was beginning to get large purple splotches all over my feet. This was troubling to say the least. I wasn't sure if this was normal or a precursor to when your frostbite turns black and is no longer salvageable. After a few minutes I was called back to see the doctor. He was a middle aged American who was touring New Zealand and volunteering at doctor's offices here and there. He assessed my feet while asking questions about how everything had transpired. He informed me that I had 2nd degree frostbite and if I had been up the mountain for an hour or so longer things would have been much worse, probably requiring amputation. It turns out the purple splotches in my feet were simply frozen blood vessels thawing and breaking. Good to know. There wasn't too much they could do. I was assured that my feet would be okay but they would continue to hurt quite a bit. The next couple of weeks I endured some strange and painful sensations in my feet. These have passed, but to this day my feet are now extremely susceptible to the cold.

So what did I learn after my harrowing experience(aka stupid mistake)? I can sum it up in one word. Wool. Wool is your second most important defense when it comes to cold and wet weather, being second only to staying dry. Wool has excellent insulative properties and will even wick moisture away from your skin. This means they will keep you warm even if they get wet. The cotton socks I was wearing when I got frostbite merely served as a freezing blanket to enclose my feet in. Waterproof hiking boots also would have served me much better than my old tennis shoes. Wool, or a synthetic wicking material, is always a necessary base layer for safety when facing the cold elements.

Prevention is the best way to deal with frostbite. Normally, you will feel pins and needles or a tingling at the early onset of frostbite. It is crucial to get dry and get warm. If somebody does have frostbite, say on their hands or feet, it is extremely effective putting their frostbitten area directly on someone's bare chest or in another person's armpits. This will warm them very quickly. There are some sources that say putting the affected areas in warm, not hot, water is helpful also. If there is any chance that the person may get frostbitten again in the immediate future, for example your stranded in the woods in a terrible blizzard, do not attempt to rewarm the frostbite. It will be much more serious if they get frostbitten, thawed out, then frostbitten again. This does much more damage to the tissue then just getting frostbitten once and leaving it until you can properly care for it.

Frostbite is easily preventable if the proper precautions are taken. If you notice it's early onset then take immediate action to treat it and prevent it from worsening. I've certainly learned my lesson and my feet have enjoyed many less eventful hiking and backpacking trips since then.