Spring Break No More? Or Joe vs. Wild – Part 237 of Infinity

The plan was to drive from Flagstaff to Sheep's Bridge (see shot above) on the edge of the Mazatzal Wilderness on Monday, car camp there that night, then spend 2 nights/3 days traversing some stellar back country. The company was Joe, Corey, myself, and the dogs, Bo and Dexter. The drive from I-17 to Sheep's Bridge is via the treacherous Bloody Basin Road, named for some violent Native American - American settler encounters in the 1800s but also littered with many a vehicle that careened off one its frequent precipitous edges. The "road" is dirt, it's rocky, there are three creeks to drive across, and it takes between 90 and 120 minutes to complete its 38 miles. But it is well worth it. The Verde River greets you at the end, and beyond one of the least visited wilderness's in the lower 48. That's the backdrop to this story:

So we arrive in one piece. Great. We set up our camp at the base of the bridge and enjoy this sunny afternoon. After a few hours, I decide to take Bo and Dexter for a walk to the unmanned gauging station some 3/4 mile down river. It's a leisurely walk down an open flood plain. I wear flip flops and take my time, get to the station, snap a shot of it against the setting sun, and begin to head back to camp. Instead of retracing my steps along the flood plain, I think it will be faster to take the jeep trail leading from the gauge to the bridge. Smart thinking. Except....

About 5 minutes down the road, Bo breaks into a sprint with Dexter in tow (Dexter would follow Bo off the Golden Gate Bridge in a heartbeat....he's loyal to his buddy but not exactly bright). I see them surrounding what I think is a rattle snake in the middle of the path about 50 feet ahead of me. I start screaming my head off with fears of both dogs falling dead right there. Dexter grabs the snake, shakes it violently, drops it, and heads back with Bo seemingly unscathed. I do a quick check and decide that they didn't get bit. I look back towards the snake and as the dust clears, see that it's not a snake at all. Approaching cautiously, I come face to face with a foot long, plump black lizard with pink spots covering it's body. It hisses at me as I near to get a photo of this strange beast. Suddenly, it all clicks. This is a Gila Monster. The toxins in its saliva attack the neurological system, causing hypotension, dysrhythmias, seizures and theoretical death. This is the first one I've seen in my life and my dog just had to assault it......

Dexter (brown) and Bo about 30 minutes before the Incident.

The Gauging Station

A sand covered and none too happy Gila Monster (I zoomed in for this shot)

Since the dogs seemed fine, I don't rush back to camp. When we get there some 10 minutes later and I relay the story to my buddies, Joe points out that the left side of Dexter's jaw is swelling. I hadn't noticed this but it's happening. He's drooling a mixture of saliva and blood. It's clear he was bit. I know very little about Gila Monster venom other than it's potentially dangerous, one of only two venomous lizards in all of North America. This dog needs a vet and I've got a long drive ahead of me on a dangerous road with darkness fast approaching. It's time to go.

Joe and Corey stay (with my agreement) to do the planned trip. I start driving like a bat out of hell on a road made by hell's minions, fully aware that this is not good for my Honda CRV. The clock is ticking though. Drive. Drive. Drive. 38 miles to go. It's 6:08pm. As I drive I continue to check Dexter. He's conscious but the swelling is getting worse. His breathing seems accelerated but maybe that's just because he's picking up on my fear and emulating it.

"You guys suck. I'm totally out of here".

My muffler, which I knicked on the way in, is the first thing to go. The car now sounds like a giant lawn mower. I push on, abusing the car but not caring. Drive. Drive. Drive. It's 6:25. 6:32. 6:49. 7:02. 7:10 - a loud noise, like something slapping the side of the vehicle, begins and only gets more intense. Against my rush of adrenaline, I stop to see if I caught a branch or something in my axle. No. That would be too simple to deal with. Instead, it's a flat, no shredded, rear passenger side tire. I'm not the most mechanically inclined person on Earth. I jumped a car two weeks ago for a friend and had to review the procedure on-line before attempting. But, necessity is the mother of all invention. I'd add that it's the mother of everything, all the time, anywhere. I change the tire on a vehicle that's on a 15 degree rock incline in the darkness of night with a potentially dying dog in my car. The race against the clock continues.

Back in the car. Drive. Drive. Drive. At some point I get Lara on the phone, give her the details. She calls animal poison control and the 24 hour vet in Flagstaff. I try calling her back but there's no signal. At roughly 8:45pm, I reach the pavement of I-17 and fill up the gas tank. I get a hold of Lara and hear that this toxin is rarely fatal, but it's also rare that dogs are bitten. Gila aren't like rattlers. They're docile and lethargic. You have to want to get bit. Dexter found out how to make that happen. Are we in uncharted waters here? The vet later relays that this is the first time she's ever treated a dog with a Gila Monster bite. Drive. Drive. Drive.

Dexter is still conscious. Swelling continues to be noticeable. At Camp Verde (where no 24 hour vet exists), roughly 50 miles from Flagstaff, the front driver side of the car begins to shake. The whole car begins to shake. If this is another flat I'm just going to give up, lay down on the side of the road, and hope Dexter makes it through the night. I don't have another spare. The tires are fine though. I inspect the CV joint. It's undamaged. The axle? Looks fine. They I see fluid dripping from the strut. I broke the seal. This is going to be expensive. There's also the matter of the muffler and a new tire. A greater priority is at hand though. Can the vehicle make it to Flag? We'll see. Drive. Drive. Drive.

At 50 mph, it takes way longer to get to Flagstaff than my normal lead-footed ways. At this point it's been such a challenge to get there that I half expect to get pulled over a block from the vet. It doesn't happen. My "luck" holds. The vet is in. She inspects Dexter while I wait in a different area. I'm relieved to hear that he looks great, his blood pressure and EKG are normal. We are fortunate though. Despite the flat tire, blown strut, and road of ruination, the Gila made contact with Dexter for a fraction of a second at most. Typically, they latch on to their attacker like a pit bull and frequently must be removed with pliers. The entire time their toxic saliva is leaching into the unfortunate victim. Their teeth are designed like our baby teeth; they break off throughout life and quickly are replaced. During the "latching" these teeth are deposited into the recipient's tissue, festering, increasing the toxin load. And the toxins, while again are rarely fatal, are also not to be taken lightly:

"Symptoms of the bite include excruciating pain, edema, and weakness associated with a rapid drop inblood pressure. More than a dozen peptides and proteins have been isolated from the Gila monster's venom, including hyaluronidase, serotonin, phospholipase A₂, and several kallikrein-like glycoproteins responsible for the pain and edema caused by a bite. Four potentially lethal toxins have been isolated from the Gila monster's venom, including horridum venom, which causes hemorrhage in internal organs and exophthalmos (bulging of the eyes)[1], and helothermine, which causes lethargy, partial paralysis of the limbs, and hypothermia in rats". - Wikipedia (honestly the best researched source I could find!)

Dexter is home now. He'll need antibiotics and pain meds for the next week, but should be fine. My car will need a lot more than that. My annual Spring Break foray into the Mazatzals will have to take it's own vacation this year. It's a bummer, but so what? Life doesn't care about your plans most of the time. It knocks you down. You get back up. It knocks you down again. Your highest responsibility is to return to the fight, take care of the ones you love, and look forward to the next round.

The last we saw of our new friend.