04x03 - Tiburón Island Coast – Part 1

[bunniefuu]

This isn't surviving, this is just being
trapped.

We need to find a way to make a move.

Get out of here.

Beautiful, yet frigid.

Lush, yet rugged.

A land of extremes in both climate and
topography.

You can go from deep snow down to green
fjords within a day's trek.

This is the harsh and intense land where
the Vikings struggle to survive.

And like everywhere else in the world,
modern adventurers and travelers drive

over thousands of miles of
snow-covered mountain roads,

and then get lost and stuck
in extreme survival situations.

How anyone survives is entirely up to their
own will to live and sense of ingenuity.

So now it's my turn.

To show you how a simple
mountain drive on a snowy

day can turn into a
ten-day-long struggle to survive.

Washington, Colorado, Nevada for sure.

Canada, Norway.

Wherever there are roads through
mountains, there are people willing to

take the chance to try to push on through
to their destination.

Ill-prepared, in bad weather, and bad road
conditions.

Way too often the result of stranded vehicles,
lost people, and sometimes lost lives.

Why don't people just walk back exactly
the way they came, immediately?

Or wait till the next morning?

Even if it was 70 miles back, at least you
know where that road leads.

For some reason, people would rather take
the chance and hike over some hill that

they don't know, because they think it's a
shortcut to safety.

When in reality, it's a one-way ticket to
hell.

So now it's my turn.

Stranded.

For ten days, somewhere in Norway.

I'll do what I know is wrong, so I can
figure out a way to make it right.

And ultimately, survive.

That's gonna be a long ten days.

The crew heads back down
the roads, and in truth, I could

just walk out myself in the
freezing rain and wet snow.

But instead, I'm left alone to attempt
survival in a small car.

As advantageous as
that sounds, there are

only six hours of
daylight at this latitude.

So I've gotta get things
done quickly before a long

night of survival falls on
the cold cocoon of the car.

Time to warm up a bit.

Here's the deal.

I'm stuck in a few feet of snow.

I'm not going forward or backwards.

And by the looks of things, I'm getting
really low on gas as well.

I'll show you.

I think there's two reasons why people
tend to stay with their vehicles.

Number one is, it
seems like an old cliche,

we're always told,
stay with your vehicle.

No matter what, stay with the vehicle.

And that's not necessarily always the
right thing to do.

And number two, you're sure that come
morning time, sun's shining, snow's

stopped, the plow's gonna come along,
see you, and you're rescued.

But that can be fatal reasoning.

You have no idea of knowing how often they
plow the road that you're stuck on.

And the longer you wait,
the more your energy

reserves get drained
and drained out of you.

My survival instinct and training tells me
I should leave first thing in the morning.

But like a dozen true-life
survival situations, I'll wait

with the car to see if a
plow or vehicle comes along.

I'm not completely without resources.

It was a road trip after all.

Mandarin orange.

This is a bit of deer jerky.

And a jar of peanut butter.

I wish I could say it was full.

It's got about two tablespoons in there
only.

That's still better than nothing.

And also, I guess, leftover coffee cup.

Actually, there's two in there.

That might come into some kind of use.

And it wasn't so stupid
that I didn't at least

make sure I brought
along a winter coat with me.

And even some snow pants.

So that's gonna make a big difference.

I'm gonna have to put on the snow pants
really soon, actually.

Because if I don't keep
this car running and

the heat going in
here, it gets cold fast.

But the stupid thing that I did do was I
have no winter boots here.

All I have are my hikers.

And there's gotta be
about a foot or two,

maybe two and a half
feet of snow out there.

So, so far, this is survival in a car.

It's a whole different way of thinking.

And it's tricky.

It plays on your mind.

Because a lot of me wants to just stay
inside the car.

When that wind starts blowing and that
snow starts falling down, you just jump

into the car like it's your own little
cocoon.

It doesn't make me want to be proactive.

It doesn't make me want to get out and
affect any survival.

And I'm eating through my food pretty
fast.

No matter what the situation, rationing
food right from the start is a good idea.

I can't be sure when
the next meal is coming

or how a situation might
worsen or get better.

It takes discipline to ration food,
but it means that after a few days of

survival, I'll still have some little
morsel of food to look forward to.

And that's vital for motivating the will
to live.

Full moon.

It's really nice and bright out there.

You can see really far.

Unfortunately, it's a
waning moon, not a waxing

moon, so it's only going
to keep getting darker.

Often in the wintertime, the most
beautiful nights are the most deadly.

It's when the nights are
clearest and without cloud

cover that the temperatures
can drop their lowest.

I find I have to turn the engine over
about once every hour and a half,

two hours just to take
the chill out of the inside

of the car and get another
hour and a half of sleep.

I'm sitting in here in the car and it's
blowing like crazy outside.

The wind is whipping by.

It's turned all gray and cloudy and the
snow is blowing off the trees.

I'm much better off inside the car.

My problem now is not that it's too cold,
but rather that it's not cold enough,

making the snow outside wet and as a
result making hypothermia much more likely.

The night was pretty much turning the
engine over maybe once every hour,

hour and a half, put
a little bit of heat into

the car and try to
sleep a little bit longer.

I think I get it now.

If I were 60 miles, 70 miles or a few
hours drive into a road like this with the

wind blowing the way it is and the snow
and only a pair of hikers and my mind is

thinking someone's going
to come along and plow this

road, I wouldn't want to
leave the vehicle either.

I can't survive in here forever.

It takes a lot of moxie to walk away from
the secure shelter of a car.

I just want to check out where I am.

I'm going nowhere.

Over that car.

Look at this wind chill.

It's a bit much.

Wow.

So I'm up above the fjord.

See it way down there.

This whole area, I'm up above.

It ends in cliffs.

So I can't get down to the fjord from
here.

It wouldn't matter if I could anyway.

This time of year, there's really nobody
out there.

It's very important
that I at least get the lay

of the land and figure
out what's around me.

Check this out.

A little bonus here.

There's some old trailer left off the
side.

But... Actually, check it out.

There you go.

Because that, to me, looks like fire
starter.

That's the beauty of being stranded by a
road.

Sometimes there are buildings
and workers, equipment,

things like that you
can take advantage of.

Okay.

The key to surviving a situation like this
is the same as every situation.

You've got to assess what I like, sort of,
I call it like the three zones, I guess.

Zone number one is what you have
immediately on your body.

I know that I've got a bit of food and I
know what clothing I have.

Zone number two is what you have in your
immediate surroundings.

So in this case, it's going to be the car
and I still have to check that out.

And then zone number
three would be in your

extended surroundings
and what goes beyond that.

When I have those three assessments done,
then, and I think only then, can I make a

proper and informed decision on how to
survive a situation like this.

All right.

I have left until this morning to take a
look at the survival gear.

It's my belief that every single car
should have a well-stocked survival kit.

Maybe some extra clothing.

Boots would be nice, which I don't have.

It doesn't matter where you live.

You find yourself stuck.

It could make a big difference to have a
basic survival kit.

You don't even have to carry it.

You can just pack it away, put it in the
car or truck or Van or whatever you have,

and forget it's there until you absolutely
need it.

So, let's see what I got.

Standard stuff, of course.

Jumper cables.

Snow scraper.

Six-pack of beer.

Sleeping bag.

Car survival kit.

Let's see what's in here, though.

First-aid tape.

Duct tape.

A knife.

A beautiful knife.

Balaclava-type hat.

Emergency reflective vest.

Bracelet that you can wear.

Becomes rope.

Excellent.

A little pot for boiling in.

Emergency blanket.

Orange garbage bag.

Just a clear plastic tube.

You never know when that's going to come
in handy.

A couple of flares.

Some rope.

A couple of matches.

Also got this little mini stove here.

One of my favorites is a folding saw.

One candle.

A wind-up flashlight.

And last but not least...

A hatchet.

That's terrific.

So, it's a pretty decently stocked car
survival kit.

I wouldn't suggest that everything is here
that I would need.

But, uh...

There should be some advantages to this.

Oh!

Wow!

It's blowing in strong.

Okay.

I gotta get inside.

It's, uh... It's so much for a
little break in the weather.

Here comes the snow.

You know those times when you get in your
car?

Well, that's a winter storm on the
outside, and you just go, Oh!

Finally.

And you're inside.

Well, that's times a hundred when you're
in a situation like this.

It's blizzarding out there at this point.

It's a whiteout.

Can't see across the fjord.

Wind's blowing.

Snow's blowing.

And it's a bit of a wet snow.

I'm not going to keep starting the engine.

I haven't started for
quite a while because

I've been moving
around, so I'm warmed up.

There's no point in trying to be all cozy
and comfortable.

I'll just start up when I
really, really desperately

need to take the
chill out of the inside.

At least now I know what I have in terms
of survival gear.

The sleeping bag is huge.

It's an old one, and it's slightly wet on
one end.

But at least it's there, and I can make
use of it.

Although, the six-pack of beer.

Now, that's a nice advantage.

Cheers.

Oh, that's breakfast, lunch, and dinner
right there.

Recently, there was a story of a man who
survived, and all he had with him was,

I think, a six-pack of beer, frozen.

So, some nutrients are better than none.

Not even two days into surviving,
and the wet and cold weather of Norway has

already started to make the car feel
cramped.

And small inside.

I'm not sure when I'll get up the nerve to
leave this metal cocoon.

It's starting to feel claustrophobic,
stuck in here.

Okay, I think I just made what might be a
bit of a mistake, finding that sleeping

bag, which, by the way, turns out to be
only a summer weight sleeping bag.

And that beer, and with
the storm raging outside, I

closed my eyes, and I
actually started to fall asleep.

Didn't sleep much last night.

But I've just woken up.

It's 3 o'clock.

Sun's going down already.

And I've just lost some valuable time,
time I could have used to be proactive and

to get some firewood
maybe together, or a

little bit clearer
understanding of where I am.

Big mistake.

Hopefully not too big.

Waiting to see how things might turn out
is one thing.

But procrastination in a survival
situation is always a bad thing.

And I'm no more immune to it than anyone
else.

A lot of the books say that you can take
the edge off of the cold inside of a

vehicle in the wintertime by having a
candle lit.

Well, I have tried this before.

Now, to be honest, it was about minus 25,
maybe even minus 30 degrees Celsius.

It was really, really cold.

It didn't work at all.

It was just still cold.

I mean, the candle flame made no
difference whatsoever.

It's not that cold here
now, so I'd say it's

maybe about minus


If I keep starting up the car to turn on
the heat, which I've been doing,

sooner or later, there's going to be zero
gas left.

On the other hand, if I keep using up
these matches, I could be deadly too.

I want to be able to get a fire going if I
need to.

Here I go.

One candle heat.

Let's hope it's enough to take the edge
off of the cold inside this car.

I'm always trying to save something for
later in a survival situation.

In this case, the candle will help me save
the car gas.

Surrounded by the protective shell of my
car, with wet and cold wind blowing

outside, the psychological
challenge of whether

or not to leave is profound
as my stomach growls.

Okay.

Here's the deal on the candle.

I think it maybe takes a slight chill out
of the air.

But I think the best
part is just simply that I

have light when it's dark
here for a very long time.

It's hard to tell if... I
mean, it's cold in here, so

it's hard to tell if the
candle's doing anything at all.

I can't imagine it doing
much good when it's minus


like that, or brutally cold.

It might be helping tonight, though,
but it's still cold.

And this summer sleeping bag's helping a
lot, actually.

A lot more than I was expecting that it
would, so that's good.

But it's still easy to be chilled through
the night.

And I don't want to turn the car back on
and risk burning up any more gas.

I'm temporarily safe
in the car, but I don't

know how much longer
I can just be stuck here.

After two days, no one has come by.

I don't know when the car will run out of
gas completely, but I do know what to

expect once I leave the safety of the car,
and that's the problem.

For now, the car still feels like a
refuge.

It still feels protective.

In a survival situation,
you're either dealing

with weather, or you're
preparing for weather.

One or the other.

There's no in-between.

This weather is the worst kind.

Cold and wet.

It's the type of chill that gets right
through to my bones.

And nothing will make my core body
temperature chill to the point of

hypothermia faster than wet and windy
weather.

And hypothermia can k*ll.

I keep thinking I can get outside.

Here, it's stop.

All good.

Just picks up again.

It's a waiting game.

And it's a waiting game,
with potentially deadly

consequences, if the wrong
decision is made due to impatience.

Wet snow is tougher survival than cold or
dry snow.

So why leave the safety of this car to
venture out into the freezing rain?

It's a dangerous thing to do.

I'm beginning to understand
why people stick with

their vehicles, even when
they know the way out.

It keeps coming to me just
how reasonable it seems

now for people to just
stay with their vehicle.

Who wants to go outside in wicked weather,
when you're tired, you're hungry,

you're cold, maybe you don't have proper
shoes or proper coat.

That would be a tough
decision to make, to

leave the vehicle under
circumstances like this.

Yet waiting too many days to make a move
while my energy reserves in my body slowly

burn up can be a dangerous thing to do,
too.

Even though the car represents
a significant cocoon and

protection from the elements,
I'm nearly out of food.

And it doesn't take long to begin to feel
frustrated by its small living space.

This isn't surviving, this is just being
trapped.

We need to find a way to make a move.

Get out of here.

Or they'll be coming to haul this car away
with a skeleton inside of it this spring.

Yet no matter how much I want to leave,
the car is still much better than having

to sleep at the base of a tree in the wet
snow.

For the moment, the
advantages outweigh the

disadvantages of abandoning
my ready-made shelter.

But I can't stay here forever.

I think one of the most underestimated
problems of survival is actually boredom.

The biggest thing for me to stave off that
boredom so far has been sleeping.

I think people forget to sleep.

They do the all-night push.

They go hard.

They want to survive.

And they get themselves in more trouble,
and now they haven't slept at all.

Now their mind's not thinking clearly.

There's an old saying in survival.

If you don't have to stand up,
sit down.

If you don't have to sit down,
lie down.

If you don't have to be awake,
sleep.

A lot of bad decisions are made by people
who have not had enough sleep.

Sometimes those decisions can be fatal.

The best way for me to k*ll boredom...

Well, that option's off the table because
I'm alone.

But at least I do have my harmonica.

One of my favorite ways to k*ll boredom.

Along with humor, any distraction can
bring levity...

...and get my mind thinking on solutions
to the problem of survival and self-rescue.

I'm definitely starting to feel like a bit
of a prisoner in this car.

I think I'm going to rip into it.

See if I can make myself some kind of
portable shelter.

I'm gonna use up some of the precious car
gas...

...so I can have the lights on,
so I can work.

Otherwise, it's time to get busy.

Being squeamish about whether or not to
break apart and destroy my car...

...wouldn't go hand-in-hand with effective
survival.

It's just a big rubber strap.

Good to use as the pull-along...

...rather than use up any valuable rope I
might have.

It's been three days and no one's come
along.

So I can't be shy or passive when it comes
to making my life better...

...in this survival situation.

I see some potential to make a shelter out
of some of this stuff.

And the rest of it's gonna be too heavy.

Or too odd-shaped.

It's about three in the morning and the
rain's still coming down.

Rain and snow, actually.

So it's good that I'm starting to get
proactive.

I wanna make sure that I get a toboggan
made.

Make sure I protect my feet and find some
way of making some sort of shelter.

I'm not sure I'm gonna do that yet.

I just know I wanna get out of this car.

Feels like being trapped.

Four days now trapped in this car by
mountain weather.

Still coming down.

One time I remember surviving in a life
raft for the better part of a week.

And that was brutal.

And this is starting to border on that.

Sort of inactivity and the inability to
move on or get out of this situation.

It's pretty frustrating.

Gotta remember, all I'm
really doing here is simulating

what a lot of people
do in a situation like this.

They stay put with the
vehicle until they get to the point

where I'm at now where I'm
just about completely out of food.

So I gotta keep finding
ways to make myself mobile

so I can travel long distances
through the mountain.

Breakfast.

And that's the last of the mandarin
orange.

Finally freed from bad weather, my
chance to get out of my car prison comes.

I've hardly moved about physically in four
days.

I'm almost out of gas from turning the
engine over to stay warm.

So if I can get a big fire going now,
I can warm up and move around enough

outside while I keep working on a plan to
get out of here.

I'm just gonna see what I can get done
before any bad weather comes in.

Checked out my surroundings earlier on.

I did see some fall down trees that I could
bring back a little bit more substantial.

And that's the benefit of going out and
assessing the area all around you.

Including sort of your expanded area as
you see what resources are around.

And I'm gonna make useful.

With a short break in the
bad weather, it feels good

to get the muscles moving
and the blood flowing again.

But it comes at a price.

This is where a couple days without food
is when you start to feel it.

Simple movement can make me lightheaded
and dizzy now that my reserves of energy

in my body are being utilized for
survival.

You see, even in the wintertime,
there's always tinder somewhere.

You've gotta keep your eye out for any
advantage to surviving.

And fire preparation is vital.

Alright, I guess I'll put this about here.

I wanna be sort of
be able to sit in the car

if I got a fire going,
get a bit of heat.

The greatest obstacle to face
when getting a good fire going

while surrounded by wet snow
is simply diligent preparation.

Making sure I have everything just right
and enough of all of my supplies before I

take what might be my only chance at
getting a fire going.

Just try to create some sort of base to
put the fire on.

Protect it from the snow below.

Gotta always stand up.

My axe, my saw blade, if I don't.

Snow like this, or even brown leaves and
stuff, you'll lose them real quickly.

Losing an axe and a saw in a situation
like this would just bite.

It's really vital in
a survival situation

that you slow down and
you don't rush around.

You can injure yourself and make things a
lot tougher for yourself.

Now, if you're actually the one trying to
affect survival, maybe get a fire going,

build a shelter, find food,
and you're looking after some

people, then I've gotta
make sure that I'm safe first.

If I start jumping into a situation
because I'm all panicky and I want to get

a fire going badly, I can end up injuring
myself and then I'm no good to them.

That's why firemen have the saying,
gas, glass, or wire.

You're checking for gas spilled,
you're checking for broken glass,

you're checking for electrocution.

All of these things you check for first
before you go in to save someone else.

Or you just make a bad situation worse.

Okay, I'm just gonna keep building this up
until I've got a nice big pile.

And then...

I'm gonna go siphon some gas.

So here's my plan.

Siphon a bit of gas out of the vehicle,
take a spark from the battery to ignite it.

I just have to hope that it'll reach down.

All right, so the trick to
siphoning is not to breathe in,

because obviously that's
gonna make you violently sick.

So the trick is just to only use your
mouth.

It's like using it like a straw, but
you don't suck like you've got a straw.

This is not chocolate milkshake down
there.

I know this is nothing for old timers, and
it's just a normal part of rural living.

But it's still pretty unpleasant,
no matter who you are.

I recommend highly that you never do this.

Unless you really know what you're doing.

And it's a real dire survival situation.

Because, uh...

That's a horrible thing to do.

Just gonna make use of the car instruction
manual.

There's not that much gas in the can.

So... It shouldn't be too bad.

But I don't really know.

So I'm gonna watch my eyes, I'm gonna
watch everything, and give it a shot here.

The fire starting using sparks and
gasoline is dubious at the best of times.

But when survival depends upon it,
it takes on a whole new intensity.

Let's try this way, then.

There we go.

Finally.

After four days stuck in the car, this
fire will be a huge boost psychologically.

Didn't quite go as planned.

In this damp snow, I've got to work extra
hard to keep this going.

Diligence is always required if I want to
stay warm.

And the added advantage is that the fire
serves as a signal for potential rescuers.

They're more likely to go to
investigate a car with a fire

burning behind it than simply
a dark car sitting in the snow.

Seeing all the panic, I didn't even
remember to use the tinder I'd gathered.

I'll use it now.

Well, this instruction manual came in
handy.

Keeping a large amount
of ready-to-go tinder

and kindling for the
fire is vital to success.

But battling the elements is always a
challenge to staying warm.

Stop raining.

Clouds look thick that are coming my way
as well.

It worked.

It took a while to get that spark to take.

I had to pour the gas over onto the paper,
try to spread it out.

I don't know.

I thought it would
have gone better inside

the beer can with the
fumes and everything.

But it didn't seem to make any difference.

Got it to take.

Ran over here.

But then I noticed after
a while, when the fire was

burning, that it wasn't
burning down into my woods.

Because the pot lid was still underneath
it, stopping the fire from going down.

So I had to pull the pot lid out,
which caused more trouble with the fire.

So I grabbed a piece of the inside of the
car.

It was just like, I don't know,
compressed board sort of stuff.

And threw it underneath and it's burning
and that's keeping the fire going.

Now I can heat water up over top of the
fire.

That's one way to save a match.

The car heater was nice.

But a full fire begins to put motivation
into me like nothing else can.

If I remember correctly,
I think I saw an old pallet

some workers must have
left behind in the road here.

And if it's not too
rotten, I'm going to bring

it in because that will
burn up well for me.

A little bit of a hike back though.

Once again, keeping an eye out for
survival advantages pays off.

It shows you whenever you're anywhere near
civilization.

There's always some junk lying around you
can make use of.

If the weather could stay like this,
I could get out of here.

So long as the plastic doesn't rip on me,
this should work well.

That's a sharp knife.

I got a way of pulling this thing.

It's nice to think about moving on.

Smoke in the eyes.

That toboggan should work well,
I think.

Now I want to think about
forms of shelter so I can

travel and I can have
something to cover myself up with.

I have no idea of knowing how long I'm
going to be out in that bush.

So if I take some shelter with me,
it's not going to be such a worry.

This is a better day.

Better afternoon anyway.

Maybe I can get out of here tomorrow after
all.

I'm still concerned about my feet and them
getting soaking wet and getting frostbite.

It would be good to have a pair of
mukluks.

And I'm going to have to make them out of
the car.

Okay, well that's got some promise.

You know, I can never work these seat
tanks in the back.

I can never get them to go up or down.

It's like, okay, is there supposed to be a
latch somewhere?

I know they have room to move.

This is a well-built car.

I think I'll just cut and see what
happens.

Without a knife in the survival kit,
this would have been nearly impossible.

Okay.

I'm into something here.

Okay.

Well, that's insulation.

The whole point of this is that my feet
are more important than the car.

My toes are more important than the car.

And my life is more important than the
upholstery.

Fortunately, I actually used to make my
own mukluks.

Running dog teams.

So I've got some idea of how it should
work, but...

I'm not going to be cutting out any
patterns here.

It's like skin and an animal.

Except too bad this wasn't a slab of meat.

Won't be pretty.

But if it saves my toes, I don't care.

I wouldn't mind using some of this foam
for insulation inside them.

Almost looks like this is ready-made.

Bottom, side, toe.

A little bit of ingenuity in a survival
situation.

Goes a long way.

Found the stuff sack for the sleeping bag.

Well...

Might look silly.

But... So would my
feet with a few less toes.

Oh yeah.

Okay, okay.

I was feeling better.

I was feeling like it's not going to come
off.

I like it.

It's a little unorthodox.

But...

That's going to work.

The other good thing about walking in
mukluks, as opposed to hard-soled boots,

is that your feet move around a lot more
inside.

So they actually tend to... I find mine
always tend to stay warmer that way.

We'll see if the weather lets me travel
tomorrow.

If not... I'm stuck
in here again.

And I'm out of food now.

What I need is cold, hard snow to make the
walking easier.

It's time to see what happens
when I leave the safety

of the car, and search for
ways to find or catch food.

For now, I only feel trapped.

Okay.

That's another morning.

The sky is very gray.

And there's been freezing rain falling on
the car.

The last little while, the last half hour
or so.

But it's stopped now for about 15 minutes.

I'm going to wait and see if I
can get a move on and get out

of this car and start trying to
beeline somewhere, anywhere.

Dodging in and out of the bad weather
seems to be my greatest challenge.

It's actually gotten much colder.

Which is a good thing.

Because all that wet weather is a k*ller.

At least with this cold weather now,
things frozen up a bit.

I can make some tracks and start
traveling.

Get out of this prison.

But before I do, I think what I'd like to
do is bring some gas with me.

I've got that leftover peanut butter jar.

There's no reason not to make use of it.

Oh, I hate that.

Well, it's pouring out good now.

There we go.

Oh, it's peanut butter gas.

I wonder what happens when you put peanut
butter and gas together.

I don't really have a clue how yet, but
somehow, this might all make up my shelter.

I'm sort of improvising as I go here.

There's lots of different side roads going
off of the main road.

Now that the ground is mostly frozen,
it's much better for walking.

I just got to hope that that sled holds
out and I'll pull along the way.

I've got my backpack for my camera gear.

I think I've got a clear sky for at least
a moment anyway.

I'm trying to find a way where I can
survive and make it back to safety.

And not hopefully
end up with a miserable

night out in wet snow
and the rain in the bush.

Because if I do, then that car is going to
start looking pretty nice.

My initial huge advantage is that I have
roads to walk on.

But this will be a good
exercise surviving in

areas where I should
be able to find people.

But can't.

Whatever I face now, nearly five days
trapped in a car, is long enough.

It's time for self-rescue
in the hopes that what's

out there is better than
what I'm leaving behind.

The backpack has all of my camera gear and
that sleeping bag in it.

So, fortunate that I had this.

That's awesome.

Because there's a lot of camera batteries
to carry.

But it also keeps the sleeping bag protected
if it does come back onto rain or snow.

It's mind-boggling how many survival
stories exist where people had to endure

an ordeal in areas where they should have
been able to find help, yet didn't.

And sometimes human tracks can be very
misleading and take you off into places

more dangerous for survival than where you
came from.

It's the inherent danger of moving forward
into the unknown of a survival situation.

As you can see, there's tire impressions
on this road.

Fairly fresh, too.

So there's definitely some people out here
somewhere.

And I can tell by the way the snows fall
and unfortunately, they lead uphill.

So that's the direction I'm heading for
now.

I have no way of knowing how far these
tire tracks go.

They could go another 50 miles,
for all I know.

It's real easy to get hot and sweaty doing
this.

That's a problem.

Because if you sweat, you die.

Fortunately, the temperatures are only
about 10 degrees or so below freezing,

which means I still have access to some
fresh-running streams.

Though I've never had an issue eating
snow, so long as my body is warm during

the day, it's a lot better to be able to
drink freely from already-melted water.

And ironically, I need to
keep myself from overheating

and sweating while I hike
up these mountain roads.

Staying hydrated is just vital in the
winter bush.

It's hard to do.

You don't think about drinking water
because you're around all this snow.

But dehydrated out here can lead to
hypothermia.

I'm following human tracks, but they just
keep on going.

Nothing in sight yet.

So I'm going to take a break.

Night's coming soon.

And my toes are frozen.

I'm going to switch to my homemade muck
locks.

The snow off the side of the trail is
super deep.

I'm going to settle in here.

I've got to take a break.

It's a frustrating paradox.

You want to move as fast as you can to get
to where you want to be to get to safety.

The quicker you move, the hotter you get.

The more sweatier you get.

The more dangerous it all becomes.

It's one thing to get sweaty out in the
winter wilderness.

You know you're going home to a warm bed
and a hot shower.

It's quite something else when you don't
know where you're going to end up.

These poor old hikers
are great boots, but

they're not keeping me
warm in this temperature.

Now is when the decision
to sacrifice the insides

of the car upholstery pays
off and protects my feet.

Already feels warmer.

Okay.

Not necessarily a fashion statement,
but I'd rather keep my toes.

All right.

These boots are kind of acting like
snowshoes.

Bonus.

It's a little bit of a hole down there.

If there's one pet peeve I have in
survival instruction, it's that picture in

every classic textbook of
the perfect tree with the perfect

hole underneath created by
the boughs and the branches.

And you can get in and
have three feet or four

feet of snow all around
you for insulation.

I've seen one in many, many, many,
many years of being out in the winter bush.

They're just few and far between.

You can't count on them.

But this is a good start here.

I think this is where I'll work my
shelter.

With rations long gone and two full days
without any food at all, every effortful

activity takes its toll on my energy
reserves.

If this doesn't look all that arduous,
bear in mind I think it's been,

what is it, two days now without food?

Two or one, I can't even remember anymore.

I'm gonna go get some of that ready-made
shelter material, courtesy of the car.

Insulation from the ground is everything,
but conduction through touching the ground

and getting cold outweigh is pretty
powerful.

Not seeming like so
much of a stupid idea now

if I had to make this
shelter out of branches.

It would exhaust me in no time flat.

I've had better shelters, but this one's
pretty solid.

I'm up off the snow, that's the main
thing.

The big problem is that I don't have a
roof, so it's more of a protection from

wind and a place for me to try to curl up
into a ball, I guess.

Beats curling up in the snow.

My six hours of
daylight in the Norwegian

wilderness are over as
the night moves in fast.

Alright, this is it.

This is my spot for the night.

Full moon's finished now, so it gets very
dark early.

I'm wearing pretty much everything that I
have.

Every scrap I could find, I'm wearing are
wrapped around me.

The sleeping bag wrapped up around me and
underneath me.

I'm on a solid wood
platform between me and

the snow, and it makes
such a huge difference.

I can't think anymore.

I need some food.

Being able to think clearly in any
survival situation is vital, and the

biggest challenge to that is lack of
sleep.

I have a feeling this is going to be a
long night.

And I have a second feeling that I'm not
going to be sleeping much.

Right now, that car is looking pretty
good.

I'm only halfway to surviving a full ten
days.

Survival victims have walked roads for days
and even weeks, only to perish in the end.

There are thousands of
miles of snow-covered roads

on this planet, and not
all of them lead to safety.

Yet they compel you to keep moving.

They always offer the illusion of the way
home.

Far down below is where my final
destination lay.

The edge of the ocean.

Where rescuers will look for me after a
full ten days.

But not yet.

Not for another five days.

Without food.

Without safety.

There are abandoned cabins.

There are also areas of cliffs that are
seemingly impossible to hike around.

Should I decide to leave the road and make
a beeline for the fjord down below.

It would be a steep and slippery climb
down.

And landing at the top of a cliff would be
disastrous.