Friday October 19, 2012

You and some friends have rented the only cottage on an idyllic island off the Maine coast for a late-season weekend getaway. No access except by small boat, no cell phone or wifi, total relaxation. The Maine Island Trail maintains a campsite on the far end of the island, but you don’t even know if anyone is camped there.

It’s a nasty, cold afternoon: Screaming winds, pouring rain, low clouds and fog, crashing surf and it’s getting dark fast...

You are inside, snug, warm and happy. Sud denly, a specter appears at your door with blood gushing down his face begging for help. Five friends were camped and a large tree has crashed over onto their tents. When you arrive at the scene, two are still pinned, one has a broken leg, one is unconscious; two others are badly hurt, one has a branch driven through his hand. There’s no way to call for help. All you have is what’s already on the island and what you know.

Would you be able to formulate a plan, aid the injured and move them to greater safety? I suspect for most of us, the answer is no, not really. It’s one thing to fantasize playing super hero, quite something else to deal with twisted bodies and blood, where you can’t just call 911 and make it go away.

The scenario described above was our "final exam" in a two-day Wilderness First Aid course I took this past weekend at Mahoosuc Mountain Lodge (www.mahoosucmountain