Redditors Share Their Serious Survival Stories
We might plan all the time regarding how we will react if we are under attack or threat but, the fact remains that we never really know how our brains will react under such intense pressure. If we will freeze, scream, fight back, run or simply give up. These 30 Redditors have shared their stories where the chances of their survival were almost nil. They were either attacked or were stuck in situations that could have proven to be fatal. But, the one common thing among all the stories is that these Redditors did not give up. No matter how bad the situation got, they made it till the end and they refused to get pulled down by the anchor.
While what happened to these people is truly scary and we wish no one ever has to go through such a phase in life, we still ask you to read these courageous stories as they do not just inspire us, they motivate us to understand that giving up is never the solution and fighting back without losing hope will always get you till the end.
Water Got Kind
I have one! It won’t help the book, though.
I was in San Diego on vacation. Went to the beach and swam out to sea. I’m a pretty strong swimmer, so I had no fear of water. Everything went as expected, until I was trying to return to shore.
Instead of going straight back, I started to swim towards a pier. I wanted to see what’s going on there. Before I knew it, I felt myself being dragged into a vortex, unable to swim out.
The more I paddle, the worse it got. Soon, I was missing breathes and started to swallow water. I thought I was going to die.
In a last ditch effort, I let myself sink underwater, so I can get my bearings and make a final dash. I pretty much did everything wrong up to that point. But luckily, my last blind dash just happened to be cross current.
After several breathes and some reorientation, I was able to swim perpendicular to the direction of the waves and away from the vortex, and let them carry me back to shore.
That was the closest I have ever been to acknowledged near-death scenario.
That’s Not A Shark Bite!!!
Evening time, riding a dirt bike home down a trail I had only traveled once before. I had forgotten about a trench someone had dug to keep cars off the trail, and in the dim evening I ended up not seeing it until it was too late. I blacked out on impact, woke up to a tingling sensation in my leg. It was quite broken with a compound fracture.
I was pretty much in the middle of nowhere… mid-80’s era farmland/country living. And I was only 14 years old. I could see a farmhouse off in the distance and started to crawl, dragging my leg by what flesh remained through a cow pasture and eventually a gravel road until just before reaching the house I dump truck drove by and saw me struggling. I blacked out again.
In and out of consciousness throughout the ambulance ride, 6 hours of initial surgery to set and clean the leg, 4 weeks of hospital. It sucked.
On top of that, the bone became infected and the flesh rotted away in the cast… so when it was time to change casts (due to atrophy) it was a green smelly mess of puss and slime. Another couple weeks in the hospital + a hickman catheter to self-medicate for 4 months. Oh by the way, they insert the hickman catheter while you’re good and awake… another great experience at 14.
Now, nearly 30 years later all I have is a nasty scar. The docs rocked the house. I tell people it’s a shark bite, had my kids going for years ;).
Dang Racket With Whistle Saved Life
I and my step brother are 15 years old, and our parents are being boring wandering around the park looking at trees and what not. We decide to steal the keys to our 16 foot skiff that was beached, and go for a joy ride.
We pushed the boat off the shoreline and into shallow water. We kept bumping up on the bars under us because there was a big slack tide at the time, so we decided to just wait before dropping the prop so we wouldn’t ruin it. We let ourselves drift out a ways from shore.
Now we are maybe 200 yards from shore, and we can’t clearly see the bottom anymore, so we decide to drop the outboard into the water, only the thing won’t budge. We are pushing and pushing on it, but it just won’t go into the water no matter what we do. We are still drifting because there was a very big slack tide that was just pulling our boat further and further from shore. At that time we decided we had better drop the anchor so we don’t drift anymore. The anchor line was no more than 10 feet long, and when we dropped it we didn’t slow down. At that point we surmised, the water was already too deep for it to hit anything.
We pushed off from the beach at about 130pm, and at this point it was now around 6pm and the shore was more or less just a line on the horizon, trees were barely discernible. This was a while ago, I am an old man, so we didn’t have cell phones handy like most kids do these days. The boat was also, contractually as part of the rental agreement, not supposed to be out past sunset, and so it didn’t have any running lights or a radio. Our parents, we later found out, knew of our distress pretty quickly and were watching the boat from shore trying to figure out what we were doing. Once night hit, everyone knew we were in trouble.
As the sun was almost set, we saw a light blinking in the breaks between waves. It was pretty far away but it WAS coming more or less towards us. It ended up being a really tiny little (for lack of a better term) make-it-yourself sailboat, crewed by a father and his kid. It was smaller even than our boat, which was tiny, and really not made for the ocean. The guy stopped when he saw us frantically yelling at him, and threw us a line. We told him of our troubles, and he jumped up on our boat and after some tinkering was able to get our prop to drop into the water. We were saved! He had his boat tied to the back of our boat, so we didn’t want to start the prop till he got his away, but it was in the water!
After he was about 10 feet away, we turned the key and it was dead. We shouted at him once we realized we couldn’t fix it ourselves, but he had put his own outboard motor in the water after he took his sails down, he was headed back home, he didn’t hear us. We shouted and waved, his boy was in his boat the whole time, maybe 6 or 7 years old, he was watching us while dad had his back to us, and he waved back at us. They got further and further away till they were gone. We tried what we could but the key would just not power the boat at all. Later we would find out the battery on the boat was dead, and wouldn’t have been able to power a radio anyway.
I forgot to mention, this was New Year’s Eve. As we drifted further and further out, we didn’t know what time it was but it surprised us how quickly midnight arrived. We knew it was midnight because of the fireworks show we saw light up the horizon. We saw other lights on the horizon too, police boat red and blue lights flashing, except for one problem they were on the Carribean side of the islands, the wrong side. We were drifting south, and they were looking for a tiny boat, with no lights, drifting north. Later we found out that the park ranger at Bahia Honda had told them bad information as to how to find us when our parents tracked him down and pleaded for help.
We ended up being found by a Coast Guard rescue boat around 7 am, and we’re back at the station in time to eat all of the station guy’s breakfast cereal. We had drifted nearly 40 miles during the night, about halfway to Cuba, and several times throughout the night huge cargo ships would pass relatively close to us (we were in an international shipping lane). We wouldn’t have even registered as a bump to them, and wouldn’t have been seen without any lights. One really heartbreaking thing was seeing all the boats whiz by us all day and night, waving at them but none but that one sailboat guy and his son stopped or saw us, or even got close enough to us to realistically see us. We probably just looked like we were fishing or something. Everyone we would shout at just because we had nothing else to attempt, so by the time they found us between that and my whistle blowing, and no fresh water, neither of us had any voice at all.
edit ;The worst part of the entire evening for us both, was knowing that Darren my “shipmates” Dad swam after us. At around hour 4 or so, he decided he could swim out to us and help, he is an excellent swimmer and back then was in pretty great shape. He estimated at the time he dove in to get to us we were about a mile away, this was after they had told the Park Ranger about our situation, but before anything had been done about it. So he swam as fast as he could out to us, and made it fairly close, but the surf was pretty high that day and the swells were I am sure just insanely tiring to swim out through, alone. He made it close enough to us that we HEARD him shouting out at us, it gave us such a feeling of relief like we were going to be fine when he got to us, even though his head was still relatively a speck in the waves.
He never made it to the boat, and then we stopped hearing him shouting our names. This was Darren’s dad, and it brought upon SERIOUS feelings of guilt. Where was he? We were both crying because we thought he was dead, and it was our fault because he tried to swim out after us. We both, at different times, jumped in and swam around looking for him out of desperation more than sense. Neither of us swam very far from the boat honestly because in the dark, I mean, there are lights on the horizon and the stars and the moon but that boat is all you really have between you and that now very cold water. We didn’t have any towels or really anything on the boat besides our clothes, and poor Darren didn’t even bring a shirt with him so we used my shirt the best we could for warmth.
Throughout the night we would cry and talk about death, and what each other would do. There was no radio on the boat, but there was a red whistle that was on the keychain. I blew that mother freaking thing all night long, and channeled my 7th grade shop class teacher (Wally Logue!!!) who taught me Morse Code. I blew S.O.S for hours and hours. When the Coast Guard guy finally found us the first thing he said was that he was going to “Bust whoever has been making all that dang racket with the whistle all night!”
Wallet For A Mistake
Not sure if this is a survival story, but when I was 16-17 I was on my way home very late around 4am with 5 of my friends. As we are walking, this white Cherokee Jeep stops abruptly behind us and 3 men get out. Our instincts kicked in and everyone started running, including me. Unluckily, all 5 of my friends run in one direction while I run in the opposite direction. As I’m trying to evade, my leg trips and I slip. One of the guy grabs hold of me, throws me down and tells me to hand over my cell phone. I say “No”. A second guy who was a bit chubby throws and a can of beer at me and then punches me (was pretty sure he was drunk) talking in gibberish. I hand over my cellphone thinking these guys are just looking to mug me and will probably leave me alone. Then the third guy comes to me and tells me to get in the jeep. Now I know for sure I’m getting kidnapped. As he tries to drag me along my instincts kick in. I go limp and pretend to have an asthma attack right there in the middle of the road. The third guy is confused. The chubby one starts making a worrying face and tells his friends that they better leave. I lie there for a good 2-3 minutes acting dead before I get up. Now here’s the kicker. I find a wallet! It belonged to the first guy who had taken my cell phone. This man was 18 and worked for the Ministry of Defence. I run to a random building, and knock on the first door I see and call my relatives. We go the police station and file a report and get him to the station. He ends up coming to the station with my cell phone and a receipt claiming that “I had thrown rocks on his window so he wanted to compensate by taking the phone.” The cops didn’t buy it and gave him a long lecture. That’s it. No jail, nothing. I did get a paper containing his identity etc ensuring that if anything happened again, he was going to jail. It was wrong from my part that I didn’t mention that these guys tried to kidnap me as well. Because I was traumatized and it was the first time I ever got in such a big trouble, all I wanted was to get it done and go home. Funny part is I didn’t even get grounded. But I never went out late at night for the next 2 years after the incident.
Because Everybody Does Hurt
I don’t know if this is what you are looking for but…. I was backpacking in Europe. I was in Rome, I didn’t realize what time it was and I missed my train. So in the middle of the night I had nowhere to go so I slept in the train station (which is pretty much open to the street). I was half asleep on the ground and sensed someone near me. I opened my eyes to a group of gypsies standing over me (I believe they were gonna try and grab my bag or pickpocket me). So I freaked out, I jumped up started screaming cuss words and pulled my fist back like I was going to hit them and they ran in all different directions. They continued to follow me that night watching me from a distance. Needless to say, I didn’t sleep that night. The funny thing is, at the time I was feeling sorry for myself and at that time of all songs that could have come on in the train station in Rome was “Everybody Hurts” by REM.
An Angry Hunter Saved My Life
A couple years ago I decided I would go out and spend a few days in the wilderness near my house (I live in the middle of nowhere) so I got my pack together including all the emergency stuff and essentials, had a rifle and ammo ect as well as a bunch of shiz to ice fish with. so I could hunt but also had spare food supplies. Drove out to where I wanted to essentially wander around and camp. I knew the area well, people knew where I was going, and since I was solo I kept my phone and gps locator on. Had a map and compass as well. Well anyway, trip goes great, and I’m hoofing it out three days later. At this time it’s below zero but heck I’m properly dressed so I’m like whatever. Well I’m walking out, and I see the biggest freaking burrul (not sure if that’s just what my dad calls them) growing off a tree (like the weird growth things.) so I start walking towards it, got the rifle in front unloaded and in ready position. I go a few steps and hit a huge snowdrift and my legs go right through, I keep going through the snow when all of a sudden wooshh cracking noise followed by an unpleasant rush of water into my lungs and nose. I’m still underwater, disoriented, and I look up and see the hole sort of and realize I’m sinking, so Flop the pack off (didn’t have the straps buckled) and I don’t know how but I sort of rose to the surface where my rifle had somehow landed perfectly across where I went in. I used it to hoist myself out. Once out I realized I had nothing but the sopping wet clothes on my back, my car keys, a set of waterproof matches, and some other odds and ends. At this point I panic and try to run out, but I felt like a frozen rubber band. My clothing was literally frozen solid, and I couldn’t feel my fingers or feet at all. At this point I calmed down, then panic hit again and I just kept walking, I have no idea how I made it out of there but I did. However when I got to my car I couldn’t get it open. The clicker wouldn’t work and O don’t have an actual lock to turn I ended up busting my window with my rifle butt and unlocking it that way. I couldn’t drive I was shaking so much so I just put my flashers on and laid my head down on the car horn (after turning the heat on of course) luckily a guy who was bow hunting heard it, and thought someone was trying to scare his game away. I’ve never been so happy to see an angry hunter in my life. He drove me to the hospital, and from there it was all uphill
Living Life On The Edge
I don’t know if this is actually a serious survival situation, but it seemed that way at the time. Sorry it is so long.
In 2009 I decided to walk out my door and hike through the Los Padres Forest to the Pacific Crest Trail and then continue north to Canada (and I did make it to Canada.)
On my fourth or fifth day out, I finally made it to the last trail on my connection with the Pacific Crest, a trail called the Buck Creek Trail. I started down the trail but then I lost it. I wandered around for a long time looking for the trail. I checked my maps and I could see the canyon I was supposed to go down but there was no trail and the brush was so thick there was no way to bushwhack. I decided to head back the way I came in and try to figure out where I went wrong.
Within a short way I saw clearly the trail had gone down to the north. Grateful I had found the trail I continued down. I had a description of the trail with me. It said I would pass a spring, then a campsite. I walked by a spring. Okay, on the right track. Then I got to the campsite. Okay, everything is fine. Then the trail headed up a hill and into the desert of Hungry Valley. What? How could that be?
So I headed back to the creek. Buck Creek trail was supposed to follow the creek. I saw a faint trail with horse poop and thought oh good, there’s the trail. Then the trail disappeared. I could see it on the other side of the creek, so I bushwhacked through poison oak, wild roses and stinging nettles to get to it only to have it disappear in a few feet. But I could see it on the OTHER side of the creek, so down into the poison oak, wild roses and stinging nettle I went again. Only to have that trail fizzle out, too.
Back and forth I went for a while until I decided I’d be better off just walking in the creek itself. I was starting to feel kind of panicky and also I had a lot of dread that if I was going the wrong way, it was a hell of a lot of elevation gain to get back to the beginning. I felt committed.
The rocks in the creek were very slippery and I slipped and fell a few times. One time I hit my head. I now realize I was lost and didn’t know where I was and that if I hurt myself, nobody would know where to find me. Then I almost stepped on a huge rattlesnake.
On and on I went down this creek for 4 hours. I could see a narrows in the creek coming up. I’d go through it and another would appear that looked exactly the same. It was like I was not making any progress at all.
I kept trying to reassure myself that the worst case scenario, as long as I didn’t get hurt, was that this creek would drain into Pyramid Lake and I could flag down a boater for a ride to the highway.
Then suddenly the creek widened. There were human footprints in the sandy banks. Then it joined a very wide creek. I followed the footprints across the wide creek and it turned into a trail. I followed the trail to a road. I was really confused. The road looked familiar. I looked around and realized I was at Hardluck Campground. I looked at my watch and it was 4pm. I had estimated earlier before I had gotten lost that I would reach this spot at 4pm. Now I was really confused. I was lost but I was exactly where I expected to be and at the right time.
I found the bike I had stashed in a bush and rode it down the road to a car campground. I got out my maps and stared and stared for the longest time trying to figure out what I had done. Turns out I had gone down Snowy Creek instead of Buck Creek. No danger, no survival. But it was all going through my head the whole time. I was always counting my food, reassuring myself that I could always camp a few days, that all the creeks had to flow to the lake, that I knew I was heading in the correct compass direction even if I wasn’t in the right place on the map.
I did this as a 44-year-old woman, by the way.
Next Time, Just Rent A Car
When I was a young kid, I lived in Europe. Most of my family is there, and my family often goes back to visit.
A couple years back, around 2008 I want to say, my older brother and I decided to go by ourselves. We would’ve been about 19 and 21 at this time. Anyway, my dad’s family lives in Southern Germany; my mom’s family lives in Northern Germany, almost in Denmark. We were riding the train from my dad’s family to my mom’s family one evening, pretty late. I think it was one of the last trains leaving, and it wasn’t set to arrive until early, early morning (like 2 am or something).
My brother and I had snagged one of those closed off compartments since it was a nearly empty train, and we were trying to get some sleep. All of a sudden we hear the door between cars slam and a bunch of shouting. We look out to see 3 polizei grab a man sitting in a double seat. He looked innocent enough, but then another man came through the door and started shooting.
My brother and I hit the deck, and since I was on the verge of shizting myself, I’m not entirely sure what happened past that point. There was a lot of shooting, yelling, and more polizei barging in from all sides (okay, two sides, since it was a train). The train started to slow down and eventually stopped. To fill in to the best of my ability, I imagine it was a sort of stand off: there was the man that the 3 polizei had grabbed, the man with the gun, and 2 other polizei who had come in from the other door. The man with the gun fired off about 3 shots, one police officer fired off a shot; no one was injured. There were about 10-15 other civilians in the car, all who had hit the deck when the first shot was fired, and no one was shot.
When the train stopped, the shooter ran into the compartment my brother and I were in. Here’s when I really shiz myself. My brother and I said nothing, just stayed low on the ground, and didn’t move. He did not approach us at all, but did step on my brother’s hand and break two of his fingers (the only casualty). Several more polizei rushed the train when we stopped, and they got the two men cuffed and off the train.
So here’s what I was told happened: the man who the polizei ran in and grabbed was an illegal immigrant with no train ticket. The original goal was to simply grab him and escort him off the train at the next stop. However, he had a buddy who was a bit trigger happy and did not know that this was the only intention. Apparently they were involved in some other illegal stuff and the friend freaked, started shooting, and the rest is history.
Easily the one moment in my life where I truly feared for my life, and I’m glad that for the most part I didn’t panic. I don’t think that the guy who was shooting had any truly bad intentions (I doubt he would kill anyone), but it was definitely enough to make my brother rent a car for the drive back to my dad’s family.
Change Of Heart Saved Life
I was in the middle of nowhere in the Nevada desert. I am driving down a dirt road and suddenly the truck falls into a deep portion of road that has been filled in with superfine silt dust that has blown off the playa. The truck is bottomed out and unable to move. I had a little amount of water left and about thirty to forty miles in any direction to walk to a highway and it was a cell phone dead zone. I was screwed.
I sat in the covered bed and tried to come up with some options. I could attempt to dig out, but that might take forever and I didn’t have that much water. I could wait for night and attempt to hike out over the next two days while attempting to make my water last…maybe. Then I saw a puff of dust on the other side of the playa. I figured if it was moving fast it was likely another vehicle and would be long gone by the time I could get to it, but if it was moving slowly it might be a grader that occasionally comes through these remote areas to maintain the road. I waited and watched.
It was moving slowly, so I grabbed all my remaining water and started hiking across the playa. About an hour later I could see the shape of the grader. I tried signalling with my compass mirror to no avail. The grader passed me and I was too out of water and energy to run to it. I fell in behind and started following. Eventually the guy turned around, which is when he saw me.
I walked up and told him my situation. Then I asked if he could call for help or drive me out. He looked at me for a long time then hemmed and hawed but essentially said, “I can’t help you buddy”. “…Seriously?! Because I used up pretty much half my water trying to get to you.” “Sorry, can’t help,” he said in a rather final way. He drove on and I considered my options. I was in the opposite direction from where I needed to be. I walked back to the truck.
I’m sitting back in the covered bed with little to no water left and fewer options, when I hear a rumbling sound. The grader is coming my way and clearing the road as it comes. The dude had a change of heart and cleared the road enough for me to get the truck out and on my way. I stopped at the first gas station and drank the biggest big-gulp I could down and toasted it to that grader driver.
You Did Bad, You Got Bad
Japanese submarine slammed two torpedoes into our side, chief. It was coming’ back, from the island of Tinian to Laytee, just delivered the bomb. The Hiroshima bomb. Eleven hundred men went into the water. Vessel went down in twelve minutes. Didn’t see the first shark for about a half an hour. Tiger. Thirteen footer. You know how you know that when you’re in the water, chief? You tell by looking’ from the dorsal to the tail. What we didn’t know… was our bomb mission had been so secret, no distress signal had been sent. Huh huh. They didn’t even list us overdue for a week. Very first light, chief. The sharks come cruisin’. So we formed ourselves into tight groups. You know it’s… kinda like ol’ squares in battle like a, you see on a calendar, like the battle of Waterloo. And the idea was, the shark comes to the nearest man and that man, he’d start poundin’ and hollerin’ and screamin’ and sometimes the shark would go away. Sometimes he wouldn’t go away. Sometimes that shark, he looks right into you. Right into your eyes. You know the thing about a shark, he’s got…lifeless eyes, black eyes, like a doll’s eye. When he comes at ya, doesn’t seem to be livin’. Until he bites ya and those black eyes roll over white. And then, ah then you hear that terrible high pitched screaming’ and the ocean turns red and in spite of all the poundin’ and hollerin’ they all come in and rip you to pieces. Y’know by the end of that first dawn, lost a hundred men! I don’t know how many sharks, maybe a thousand! I don’t know how many men, they averaged six an hour. On Thursday morning’ chief, I bumped into a friend of mine, Herbie Robinson from Cleveland. Baseball player, bosun’s mate. I thought he was asleep, reached over to wake him up. Bobbed up and down in the water, just like a kinda top. Up ended. Well… he’d been bitten in half below the waist. Noon the fifth day, Mr. Hooper, a Lockheed Ventura saw us, he swung in low and he saw us. He’s a young pilot, a lot younger than Mr. Hooper, anyway he saw us and come in low. And three hours later a big fat PBY comes down and start to pick us up. You know that was the time I was most frightened? Waiting for my turn. I’ll never put on a lifejacket again. So, eleven hundred men went into the water, three hundred and sixteen men come out, the sharks took the rest, June the 29, 1945. Anyway, we delivered the bomb.
Life Full Of Adventures
Not sure how serious they would be on a scale, but I have two. Surprisingly, both were me in High School and in Girl Scouts.
First, the Girl Scout troop and I were getting ready to do a Sea Scout competition. This includes rowing, sailing, knot tying, first aid, etc. Problem was none of us knew how to sail. I was going to do the sailing portion, so I had to be taught. We went out to one of the lakes, it was a cold day and the water was brisk to say the least. Myself and one other girl were being taught by a male volunteer. Mistake was that he decided to teach us by taking us immediately out in the water and trying to teach us by giving the ropes. Well the other girl pull the main sail far too quickly when a wind came and we capsized. The boat quickly turned completely over and we were trapped under the boat. Thankfully I was a good enough swimmer to get out with everybody else, but never have I seen our troop leader freak out so much.
Second, we were on a camping trip with our troop again. This time up in the mountains and in February. There was a little snow left on the ground, but I thought it wasn’t too bad. One night we had the fire night and my friends and I got stuck the furthest away from the warm fire. After a long day of navigating and hiking and doing competitive activities, I was tired and my clothes were wet from sweat. Well, that plus cold night equals me getting mild hypothermia. At one point the troop leader could not find the pulse in my neck and my heart rate dropped really low. Thankfully, warm friends and a shiz ton of blankets made me better, but it seems that I might be accident prone.
I remembered another one. I was out at the beach with a friend and we were trying to climb the rocks that jetted out into the water. Well, she is a foot taller than me, so it was a lot easier for her. I tried to get to a certain rock and missed. It was okay because I landed in the water, but I also got pulled under by a rip tide. Thankfully, I just rode it out and held my breath. After not too long I was able to get my head above the water. I ended up with a pretty cut on my leg and a seriously freaked out friend. I still have the scar. 🙂
Australian. Alive. Enough.
I was born in Australia. 25+ years later, I am still alive. I guess you could call that a long-term survival situation?
Here is a list of things that could have killed me at that time:
- Swimming with crocodiles (fresh-water ones don’t really attack humans unless provoked – found out later there were salties in there due to flooding)
- Boating in salt-water croc rivers (not sure what we were thinking here, we were in a 4meter tin hull boat).
- Survived kangaroo attacks – jumped into my car while driving down a dirt road at dusk, I was an idiot for going that fast on dusk.
- Random spiders everywhere (including a huntsman dropping from my sun visor while driving at 110 down the freeway).
- Falling off horses – mostly variations of “Horse saw a stick move, horse freaked out thinking it was a snake, horse started galloping crazily while I was mounting/not paying attention”.
- Random snakes in the garden, roof, and creeks. Freakiest one was red-belly-black snake swimming in the same creek I was swimming in. My friends dad (bush fire-fighter guy) reaches under the water, grabs it by hand and escorts it away from our campsite. 4 hours drive from phone reception at the time. Bite can be fatal, although the antivenom is widely available.
- Two days into a five day hike through the middle of nowhere (before mobile phones were a thing) rolled (and slightly fractured) an ankle. Finished the full hike with a stick as a crutch, because ‘You need to man up, it is only a sprain’. 🙁
- Still trying to think of more, I had a post somewhere where I did a detailed list of most of the hiking/bush related ones, but I can’t find it now 🙁
- Drop Bears. Every day of my life.
Get The Vibes
I was in high school visiting a male friend in college. I met him at a party at his school and we started chatting. Played some beer pong with him. Won a few games. He seemed like a normal enough guy so when he invited me over to his place for drinks I thought sure, why not? big mistake….
Once I reached his dorm I got a really weird vibe from him. Something about him seemed a bit off. I decided I did not want to have his mixed drink. I did not see him make it, so I had no clue what was in it. Plus I was the only one there. When we talked the night before he said a bunch of his friends would be coming over. He got really mad that I did not want to drink. Then he stood in front of his dorm room door and said that he was God and that he needed to cleanse me. He felt my negative energy and that he was sent down to save me.
I was freaking out. I am a tiny 5’2 girl and this dude is huge. I grabbed some textbooks and started chucking them at him while screaming FIRE HELP. After that someone burst into the room and I ran out. I did not stop running until I reached my car.
Grandpa… Why Would You DO This
I don’t know if this is really a survival story, as it only lasted about 5 minutes, but it certainly wasn’t the highlight of my day.
Probably about 10 years ago one summer day. We were at my grandpas campground. Big boaters campground just off of Lake Erie. Campground has three smaller lakes in it. I was on a small row boat with my grandpa and mom. I was probably about 8 to 10 years old and didn’t know how to swim. I also didn’t have a life jacket on. Anyways, my Grandpa thought it would be cool to yell “IM KING OF THE WORLD” and jump off and land in the water. It didn’t work the way he had planned it. Boat goes upside-down with me underneath. I have to imagine the only thing that kept me alive was me holding onto the seat before the boat flipped. All I had was a grip on the seat and a small pocket of air. My grandpa and mother didn’t know where I was for about a minute. My grandpa found me under the boat and somebody from another camper had put me on his boat and got me back to the land safely. I probably told my grandpa “I’m mad at you” about 100 times that night. My mom says she couldn’t sleep that night.
That was not a fun time. Thankfully the only things lost that day was my shirt and my moms hat.
Survived The Kidnapping
I was kidnapped in my car, when I was 18. I had been stalked by the guy for at least a few days (saw the same truck follow me a couple times on my way to college campus). I was just about to get out of my car to go to a bookstore, and this guy jumps in the passenger seat with a gun. He made me drive out of town to a remote area where his truck was parked (never found out how he followed me to bookstore without the truck).
He wanted to keep the gun on me while he got out of the car because I had a mace thing on my keychain. As he was backing out, he slipped and lost his footing, and I took off in the car. I drove straight to the police station. He was never caught.
Survived The Accident But Cannot Survive The Uncle
When I was 12, I was on a school trip to a different city in my country. It was all going pretty nice until it was time to come back. After about 3 hours of driving, our bus hit a Tico with 3 people in it, instantly killing everyone inside the small car. The bus was thrown off the road and into a ditch, where it tripped, sending me flying into the roof and I passed out. After I woke up, it turned out that I did not suffer any major damage and a rescue bus came for the entire group after an hour or so. When I came back home, I started to tell the story to my uncle, but he was annoyed with me talking so much so he kicked me repeatedly and spit in my face. I miraculously survived that encounter, but it was not the first and not the last time my uncle did that.
Survived The Bolt
I was camping in a valley in the alps when I woke up to a lightning storm. My tent was basically in a field with no cover. I could see lightning flashing down around me every 5 seconds, it was crazy, and totally hadn’t been on the weather forecast. I threw my stuff together and ran for about 20 minutes to the nearest rocky area but I was absolutely convinced I was going to get struck.
Tougher Than The Bear
Guy who was fishing a 1/2 hour from my house had his lower jaw ripped off by a grizzly and crawled 1000 yards up on to the highway where a motorist saw his bleeding body and picked him up and drove him for more than an hour to the nearest hospital. Tough sun-of-a-biaatch survived.
Thank God He Was Drunk
Got followed on a bike ride by a drunk guy with a bat. When the trail ended (which he knew it would while I didn’t) and he lunged for me, he was drunk enough that I was able to knock him into thick bramble. Hightailed it out of there and he followed for about 2 miles till I found a family picnicking and they scared him off.
Survived By Inches
When I was about 5, I was loading a CD into my television. The television was a bit high, so I had to climb on a desk in front of the Tv. I loaded the CD and fell on something(I am not sure what, but I think it was my sister’s baby trolley). The thing I fell onto cut a hole in my neck. I had to stitch it. In the hospital, the nurse told my mother that it was millimeters from my artery.
Mom Saved Lives Again
Was driving along Skyline Drive in Shenandoah when a huge storm swooped in out of nowhere, and my mom screamed “STOP!” Maybe 20ft in front of our car a tree fell right in the middle of the road.
Took several very large trucks to move it out of the way. It was at least a few feet thick. Definitely would have obliterated our car and possibly killed us if we had kept driving.
Survived Deadly Vaccines
Grew up at the height of the autism scare/hoax.(Ironically as an adult, found out I’m likely a highly functioning aspire who slipped through getting it detected.) My whole life my parents have been telling me how my doctors don’t vaccinate their kids, etc. Same for my almost 10 years younger brother.
I got vaccinated against their consent sometime between birth and being a toddler. To the point they don’t even know what I was given (or maybe they got rid of the papers, lost them etc). I, like others in my family, got violently sick after getting the shots. I never thought much of it to be honest. They used it as justification that they were right. I grow up and in college, getting a science degree btw, decided to volunteer abroad for hazardous waste clean up and with nonprofits. So I sat down with my doctor, talked about vaccines, got what they recommended and again, got really freaking sick. It screwed with my heart somehow because not only did I almost fast plant, but my heart rate became so faint they made me lay down and wouldn’t let me leave unattended. Dad had to pick me up from work.
I survived in the sense that I lucked out but I’m really worried now about myself and kids today.
Turns out, if you’re severely immune-compromised you shouldn’t get vaccinated. That’s why there’s the disclaimer they are safe for “most healthy people”. If you’re like me, you need herd immunity. I only dodged the really screwed up illnesses because of that and now it’s disappearing.
Winter Is Here
Worked on the ramp at an airport in January of 2014, with the polar vortex and all that. Was murder.
Airfields are just that: open fields. Big ones. With nothing to block the wind except airplanes.
Lemme tell you a little something about airplanes: they’re specifically designed not to block the wind.
Save Oil To Save Life
I once lived in an old farmhouse with an oil tank. The gauge on the tank was broken so you never knew how much oil you had left until you didn’t. Landlord was a tight fella who never fixed anything. Anyway, 10 year old me likes long hot showers, so guess who used up all the oil on the eve of a shizzy snow storm with temps in the low teens and wind chills just above zero? My mom wanted to kill me. It was so cold we slept in layers with like 8 blankets on us until morning when she called the oil guy.
I did this two more times because I was a stupid child.
Snow Is Terrible
I left an ice hockey game early to trek back to my apartment alone thinking I knew the way home but I had only been there a few weeks. So it wasn’t a great idea. A big snow dump had happened during the game. My landmarks disappeared. 20 mins walking in the wrong direction out of town I realised my 10 min walk home had gone wrong. Called friends at the game. They couldn’t hear my call for the noise. Cell going flat. No people homes or traffic now. I’m freezing and it’s late Finally with one spec of charge left my friend picks up and gets a location on me. Am so relieved! I’m from a hot place where it never snows. This terrified me.
Survived My Own Stupidity
When I was in sixth grade I ran away from school. It was about -40C in northern Alberta (Canada). Usually we have the day off when it’s that cold but my parents brought me anyways because they didn’t want me home alone. I had snow pants, jacket, mits and a toque but it was still about a 5k walk to get home. The worst part was sneaking through a couple feet of snow to go through back alleys so I wouldn’t be seen. When I got home I laid under a pile of blankets for a really long time. Everything itched but fortunately it was okay. Lotta people were scared shizless though haha
Survived The Deadliest Encounter
My cousin was a Marine in Iraq. The only story I’ve ever heard from him, before his ptsd meetings and therapy.
His team cleared a particularly large home looking for a target. After taking target out and supposedly clearing the last room, with his back turned to an open closet and finally lowering us gun and his guard, his teammate apparently glanced over and noticed a figure behind him in the darkness of the closet with a gun pointed at my cousins head. The teammate immediately shot only one bullet in the head, whizzing by my cousins head and killing the guy behind him.
He told me that out of his entire life, that this was the only time he ever felt fear. That moment also made him decide to make that his last tour and finish his life back home with his family.
Survived My Poor Choices In Life
When I was younger, I tried to kill myself by eating toothpaste because I felt like nobody understood me and nobody took me seriously and nobody listened to what I had to say.
I didn’t eat enough toothpaste.
Also, toothpaste feels awful going down your throat in high amounts. Don’t eat toothpaste.
The Lone Survivor
Years ago there was a group of friends on a fishing trip in a remote area of Alaska. A helicopter was bringing them in, clipped a canyon wall and crashed, leaving only one survivor. That man managed to get on the radio for help, and was luckily heard by a National Guard helicopter in the area. They managed to locate the crash site, land, and get the survivor aboard. While taking off they clipped the same wall and crashed, once again leaving the same lone survivor. He was found when the Guard helicopter was reported missing and finally rescued successfully. He was in pretty bad shape with multiple broken bones, but eventually recovered.
Survived To Hate
I read in a book the story of a dude that crashed his plane in the desert and wandered for weeks (IIRC) and when he was rescued/found civilization they were amazed that he survived. He was asked about it and responded that he knew if he died his that his wife that he was in the process of divorcing (who he called a “biaatch”) would get everything.
He literally was driven to survive to spite his wife.