With a lot more respect, I went back in there yesterday.
I didn’t hike to the place where I fell in, because I didn’t want to get stuck in that mess again, but I took a picture of what it looks like in there for basically the entire 400-yard by 1 mile footprint of the swamp.
The hole I fell in was larger than this one, but the landscape is the same. Lots of frozen frozen holes and braided streams and beaver ponds with (hopefully) enough dry ground to get around them, but in actuality, often not.
One other thing that is interesting is my legs and hips are covered with bruises. I think I spazzed out more than I realized when I fell in.
Thinking back on it I was somewhat lulled into complacency by the fact that in the mile or so that I had hiked, I had not run into any water that was too deep for me, until I did. Additionally, grass poking up through the snow made me think I was stepping on solid ground, but I wasn’t. Also, I always tell my wife where I am going hunting, but I changed my mind that afternoon, and did not tell her. Lastly, Because I had an appointment to get to, I made a decision to push forward into a situation that I was uncomfortable with when I could’ve just backtracked comfortably and maybe been a little late. Just could’ve been a perfect storm.
I think I have mentioned it on here before, but in the world of first response, we talk about the Swiss cheese model of accidents. Most accidents are the result of numerous probabilities piling up.
I will have a lot more respect for ice and water, even if I think it’s something I can handle, in the future.