Andy's Kona Ironman Recap 2007

Special thanks to Andy Baldwin for submitting this article!
-VKT

Ironman World Championships 2007 Recap
By Andy Baldwin

As I stepped off the airplane onto the tarmac of Kona International Airport, and was hit by that familiar hot island breeze, it all came back to me. There is nothing like that feeling of arriving to compete in the Ford Ironman World Championships, the excitement, the nerves, the energy in the air, the feeling of honor to have earned a chance to swim, bike, and run next to the best endurance athletes in the world. It is the same feeling I had five years ago when I first stepped off that plane to compete in the holy grail of triathlons, and the same feeling I have had every year since then. Welcome to Kona! Prepare to go through hell and back and see what you’re made of.




This would be my fifth time racing Ironman Hawaii, and you never quite know what to expect out there. I’ve experienced the gamut on race day- cramps, flat tires, blown off bike into lava fields, fistfight in the swim, stuck in port-o-potty. People often ask me what my goal time is, and I have learned over the years at Kona, the best goal time you can have is to a) do your best, b) smile (even if you are faking it), and c) finish. Don’t tempt the Kona gods with a goal time, because they will wreak havoc on you.





2007 would be no different. This year there were definitely many new variables to contend with, good and bad. Walking down Alii drive in Kona town became a bit of a head scratcher, as people would yell out “hey Andy” and I was never sure if I actually had met them before or if they had just learned my name that morning by reading some tabloid magazine. Nevertheless, in every case I made my best effort to say hello, ask them where they were from, and what their dreams were. It was tough having this conversation with some of the Germans and Japanese, but I gave it my best shot.



Ironman Race Week this year was bigger and better than ever. Some highlights were walking with Team USA in the Ironman Parade of Nations, leading a triathlon workshop for kids at the local YMCA talking to them about triathlon and believing in themselves, and participating in the annual Ironman Underpants Run that benefits the Hawaii Special Olympics.



The most unexpected hurdle I had to deal with this year was something that started as nothing more than a scratch on my left knee that I suffered on some coral a few days before the race. The knee began to get painful on a training ride and was showing signs of infection. As Doctors are usually the worst patients, I thought nothing of it, put myself on some simple antibiotics, popped a bunch of Advil, and pushed on. I had an important race to do in a few days! I thought nothing more of it, until I awoke two days before the race with beet red, throbbing left leg, high fever, and a lot of pain. This is when the oh shit flag really went up and I kicked it into high gear. I’ve seen way too many cases of flesh eating bacteria get out of control with bad outcomes to mess around. I called in three more broad-spectrum antibiotics and prayed that they would work, and that this would take a turn for the better. I propped my legs up in the air to decrease the swelling, popped pills, and painkillers, and crossed my fingers that I would be able to race.



Luckily, things began to show improvement by race day morning, and I found myself on the starting line, doped up on antibiotics, with my body already feeling like it had been hit by a Mack truck numerous times over. But the show must go on. I just wish that my family and loved ones could have been there. I knew that I needed to dig deep and perform- racing for the U.S. Navy, and with TV cameras following me there was no backing down now. No way. People are out there in way more pain than you are Andy. Suck it up and get tough.


Pre-Race:

Getting body marked, nervous as can be, did an interview with Ironmanlive.com and could barely talk I was so nervous, asked by the interviewer are you single?, are you kidding me? not now people! I have a race to do.




Navy SEALs parachuted into the start after jumping out of a C-130. Very cool. Proud to be representing the Navy out there today as well.


Pushing out into the sea of people for the mass race start. Legs kicking, bodies bobbing up and down in the swells of the ocean. You could feel the stress in the air. Everybody poised to go into 8-17 hours of constant motion and inevitable pain. Helicopters hovering overhead, SCUBA divers with cameras below. BANG! The cannon goes off two minutes early. Good thing I had my goggles on…….

Swim:

Sprinted out ahead of the pack, and towards the first buoy. Remembered about a minute in to hit the start button on my TIMEX watch. Stuck in a big pack of swimmers, it is no holds barred body bumping, you need to be able to hold your own in there and not get pushed around and run over. I got my goggles knocked off a bit, and head smacked a few times, but by the time we rounded the BodyGlove boat at the halfway point things had spread out a bit. Time check 28 minutes. Settled into a nice trail of swimmers on the way back, and drafted as best I could trying to save some energy and stay positive. When the big inflatable Gatorade bottle on the pier comes into site you know you’re almost there, and before you know it bam, exit the underwater environment and go upright onto land to the loud cheering of thousands of spectators. Check time 59 minutes. Not too bad. Reminded of my bum leg as soon as I started running, ouch, damn. Keep smiling Andy. Arrive at my bike and sure enough there is a video camera there- I try to put my super-stylin' ZOOT jersey on, and it gets tangled up around my chest. Ask the cameraman for a little help. He looks at me quixotically ☺ Finally got it on and away I go………..out onto the bike.


Bike:

Once out on the long stretch of road called the Queen K Highway you can really settle into a rhythm as you head out towards the climb to Hawi. I am focused on getting enough fluids in, not drafting off of the person in front of me, and trying to mentally comprehend that I am only 10 miles into a 112 mile bike and have over 100 miles to go….and then a marathon to run.



The video camera man comes up to me on a motorcycle and I do my best to give a shout out to the troops and my fellow Navy divers. There should be research done about athletic performance enhancement brought on my presence of video cameras. As uncomfortable as it may be, there is a definite correlation. At least in this one of one study.



I am trying to recall the five and a half hours I spent on the bike that day, and it is amazing how much of it I can’t remember, either because my brain has selectively chosen to forget it, or after awhile the all the lava fields look the same. There are some interesting things that happened though. One that stands out is when I got passed by a Frenchman wearing nothing but a SPEEDO, a wife-beater looking top, and an Aero helmet. He yelled something at me, and I for the life of me couldn’t understand what he was saying in French. I sped up and told him “Je non compra pas” He motioned toward the back of my bike, and pointed at the American Flag that I had flying off of the back of my red, white and blue ORBEA bicycle. I nodded my head, and said “Yes, GO USA!” and he looked confused and rode away.

Once making it up the difficult climb and gale-force winds to the turnaround at Hawi, one can enjoy the few miles of downhill as a reward. But as I was reminded once again, you can’t get too relaxed because these extremely powerful gusts of wind come out of nowhere, and will pick you and your bike up in a split second and deposit you on the other side of the road in a pile of rocks in the lave fields (memories of 2004).

As I reach the bottom of the hill, I see my good friend Matt Miller on a tandem bike with Charlie Plaskon (a blind athlete) who set a goal for himself seven years ago to complete the Ironman World Championships. All I can say is wow! I have so much respect for Matt for the passion he has put into training and leading Charlie, and am in awe of Charlie and his determination to not allow his lack of sight deter him from reaching his dream of doing the Ironman. Anything is possible!




During the long journey on the bike back to Kona town, you are within the last 30 miles of the bike, and that’s when your mind starts to drift. The sun is almost directly overhead, your body is caked with salt from all of the dried sweat, and what I like to do is pour water over my head to cool off whenever possible. This year they started putting Coca Cola in the water bottles, and I didn’t realize that, so at around mile 90 or so, I proceeded to give myself a Coke shower all over my Oakley sunglasses and GIRO helmet thinking that I was spraying water all over my head. Not cool. In fact, not cool at all. Very sticky…….

It is at about this point in the bike where I start singing to myself. Don’t laugh. I don’t understand it either. But you need to do something to do to pass the time. Why in every Ironman I do, that I choose to sing that “Doo a diddy, diddy dum, diddy doo” song is beyond me. Perhaps someone could enlighten me…….

Bike Time- 5 hrs. 23 minutes. Now on to the run......

Run:

This is the hardest part of the day. Your body is completely rocked after that swim and bike, and has been going for close to 7 hours, and now you are telling it to run a full marathon. One of the things that keeps me going is the thought of the finish line, those who have endured so much more hardships than this, and the only way you’re going to get there Andy is to keep putting one foot in front of the other. No other way. Failure is not an option.

So I donned my Zoot running shoes, my Oakley half-jackets, my U.S. Navy cap, put a smile on my face, and zoomed out of transition trying to get the crowd revved up, and doing my best to ignore the pain in my leg.



There are times when it is really to fun to have everyone know who you are, when you are feeling good, and want to be recognized, and then there are times like this year in the marathon portion of the 2007 Ironman World Championships where I was exhausted, overheating, and limping along where I kind of wished everyone didn’t know my name. I was hurting out there on the run, and was actually glad when I was on my way out to the energy lab and it was me, myself, and I.

It is at this point when the thermometer read 101 degrees, and the afternoon sun was beating down, that I really couldn’t wait to get to the special needs bag at mile 18 of the run. This is where every year I pack a bag of gummi bears and 1000mg of Advil. Usually I am overjoyed to get those gummi bears, but this year it was the Advil.

As you run up the hill out of the Energy Lab, there is a big digital read out screen where people can write messages to you. I didn’t know what to expect, but when I saw the good luck message from my Navy Divers I couldn’t believe it. Sometimes that is all the extra umph it takes to get you over the hill and soon I was on my way home towards town. It’s the little things that make a difference. Knowing that people care. Six miles to go.

As I am running (more like shuffle/hobbling) home the video camera crew comes up on me again, and I muster up a smile and a shout out to my guys. We also pass an aid station, and everyone is cheering. It is great energy. I pass one of my good friends from growing up in Pennsylvania. It is his first Ironman, and I give him a pat on the back and encourage him to keep going. Under the sweltering sun, the scene up and down Queen K highway looks like a trail of hobbling warriors fighting to keep going in the battle and not giving up. We’re all in it together.

As I approach town I see my friend and inspiration, Scott Rigsby, a double amputee coming in on the bike. I instantly get a surge of energy and yell to him, “Go Scott, you are the man, you can do it”!! I get the chills knowing that this unbelievable man is on his way to becoming the first double amputee to ever finish an Ironman. He is hard as nails. Scott Rigsby- you are an Ironman and then some. I am so proud of you man!

The best moment of the day is that run down Alii drive with the finish line in sight. For almost an entire day, from sunrise to sunset, your body has been in constant motion, and you have been at war with yourself, through blood sweat and tears, thought countless times that you were going to quit, but didn’t, and here you are the finish line. You made it! You persevered. Just like so many times in life, you can overcome the obstacles and make it to the finish line. This time for me is was in 10 hrs. 17 minutes.





So as I crossed the finish line this year, which turned out to be one of the hardest if not the hardest Ironman races I have ever done, I gave a salute, and that is saluting my fellow members of the Armed Services of the United States of America, and anyone who believes in freedom, pursuit of happiness, and that anything is possible. If you dream it you can achieve it. Believe in yourself. Set a goal and go after it. You can do it. Just ask Scott Rigsby and Charlie Plakson.


Special thanks to the United States Navy, Peter Henning and Blair LaHaye and everyone at World Triathlon Corporation, all of my sponsors, family, friends Mike Ferreira, Joy Kam and Mitch Thrower, and to Zoltan Vajas for being my lone support crew out there on race day. Thanks guys, I couldn’t have done it without you.




Andy Baldwin, Scott Rigsby, Chris McCormack


Kona Sunset

Andy's Laos Mission Story: REPOST

We've reposted Andy's letters from Laos for those of you who have yet to read about Andy's incredible mission. Take a look at it below.

Best,
JKT

TABB: The Andy Baldwin Blog

Welcome to The Andy Baldwin Blog. In our upcoming redesign of AndyBaldwin.com, we will include a host of additions: a new look & feel, new Picasa® web galleries, and a new blog, of course! We will follow Andy through his successes, achievements, and adventures around the world.

For now, a recap: Andy's Got-Your-Back foundation continues to help the families of fallen heroes. Vist www.GOT-YOUR-BACK.org to make donations. The triathlon season is starting soon; Andy's race calendar is available to view on the www.andybaldwin.com homepage.

Check back often for exclusive news and updates.

~VKT

A Doctor’s Adventure in Laos

My name is LT Andrew Baldwin, M.D. and I am the Diving Medical Officer for Mobile Diving and Salvage Unit ONE in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. Earlier this year I was offered a once in a lifetime opportunity- a chance to go into the heart of Southeast Asia as a medical humanitarian and treat the sick and injured. I was asked to serve as group surgeon for a team of fifty military personnel headed for a one-month recovery mission in Laos attempting to find the remains of U.S. POW/MIAs from the Vietnam War. The Joint POW/MIA Accounting Command (JPAC) is a powerfully funded Army-led organization that deploys numerous recovery missions to remote locations of the world each year. My role would be to take care of the medical needs of my team, and also to visit the remote villages where my teammates were working to treat Lao villagers in need of medical attention. What I would see and experience- disease and poverty coupled with courage and the will to survive- would change my life forever. Here are some stories from my adventure.

Conclusion

I had been living in virtual isolation for over a month now, and even the return to the small town of Savanakhet on the Mekong River in lowland Laos provided me with a bit of culture shock. Being able to check email, enjoy an ice cream, watch TV, and shower with clean water were all things that I had grown accustomed to not having.




I had a lot of time to reflect on my trip over the next few days, and it truly did feel like a trip back in time. I’ll never forget the way the villagers up in the mountains stared at me when I got out of the helicopter. Many of them had never seen a white person before, let alone a helicopter. It was like they saw me as a god. Most of them were not fully clothed, did not have shoes, and through their constant smiles you could see they were missing most of their teeth. Their main priority in life was to get enough food to survive, and pay homage to the spirits that they worshipped. Their attitudes were so positive, and their enthusiasm contagious. I kept trying to put myself in their minds and imagine how such positive energy could exist in a life of such poverty and simplicity. But the reality of it is that they don’t know any other world. They don’t share our 1st-world perspective- a mindset from a land filled with convenience and luxury, stress and selfishness, depression and complaints. Oh, if only we all could realize how good we really have it and how lucky we are.

I treated a total of 611 Laotian patients during my humanitarian medical excursion to Laos. It was the most rewarding and eye-opening experience of my life.

Turnover of Medications to the Local Medical Clinic

I did a successful turnover of all of my remaining medications and medical surgical supplies. The clinic doctor and head nurse expressed their deep felt appreciation for the U.S. aid and for my work in the villages there. As a token of their appreciation they presented me with a hand woven wicker basket used to carry sticky rice (the main staple of Laotian cuisine).

Ambassador Comes to Town

The U.S. Ambassador to Laos paid a visit to the dig sites today, and also visited Taoy base camp and the town’s medical clinic. I accompanied her to the 1 year-old medical clinic. It was raining and there were leaks in the ceiling, chickens and pigs walking through the hallways, and babies crawling on the dirty floor. I just shook my head….. What a difference from U.S. hospitals. But this clinic was a godsend for the local people, most importantly for child birth. The current infant mortality rate in the mountain regions was exceeding 50%! Now, the word was getting around in the community that there was a local facility to go to which could provide obstetric and pediatric care. The clinic was averaging one birth a day, with only a 10% mortality rate. The Ambassador was quite impressed. U.S. money had been used to fund the construction of the clinic. But she was not as cheery about the birds in the hallways, with the current proximity of avian flu in Southeast Asia. The clinic was also in dire need of supplies, and medications. The Ambassador and I discussed these issues and others, such as hurdles in getting Laos better medical care, and the frustrations of living in a communist state.



A TRIATHLETE IN LAOS?
It took about a week in Laos until I started losing my mind. It wasn’t the rough living conditions that got to me. It wasn’t the bugs. It wasn’t the isolation. It wasn’t the dirty water we were showering with. It was the fact that I couldn’t work out and train in my normal routine. I am an avid Ironman triathlete who is used to working out two to three times per day. My psyche and my body depend on those daily workouts. But in the middle of the mountains in eastern Laos, there is not a pool right around the corner. And forget biking. There were no bikes in Laos that I observed, and even if there were, the tires would never hold up on that awful, rocky, muddy road. The good news is that I could run, but only between the hours of 1600 and 1800 and with mandatory accompaniment by three Lao officials. The “running law” was that one could run out 1 mile and then had to turn around.

My Lao “running guards” were a bit behind in the fitness category. Some of their lack of fitness could be contributed to other variables. I mean, they ran with cigarettes in their mouth and with shoes that appeared to have come from a bowling alley. They began to stage themselves along the 1 mile route, so that when one would tire, they would hand off duties to the next guy to try and keep up with me. I was so irritated that I couldn’t go farther out than one mile. My big question for the Lao was “where was I going to go?” It’s not like there was a big city nearby, or any place that I could cause any semblance of trouble. We were in the middle of nowhere, and I wasn’t allowed to run more than two miles. I tried once to “unknowingly” wander out for a run at 0500 hoping to avoid my escorts. I can’t tell you the sense of freedom that I felt as I began to stride down that dirt road alone, with the exception of an occasional cow or pig that would tag along. As I passed the one mile marker I felt a sense of relief. I was going to run as far as I wanted that morning…..or so I thought. Suddenly one of the Lao smoker runners emerged from the brush, and yelled out at me “Stop!” I pretended not to hear him. I mean for heavens sake, did he camp out and sleep at the 1 mile marker??? He yelled out again to stop. And it was at that time I gave in and stopped. “You got me pal,” I relented. There was no way around the situation.

When I was running back to base with my tail between my legs, I realized how convenient exercise is in the United States, and how many of us take that for granted. We have countless gyms and pools, tennis courts, bicycles, paved roads, and the freedom to run from coast to coast on a whim, if we wanted to. In Laos, for me, there was none of this. Many athletes use exercise to achieve a positive physical and mental state. They get into a routine and their psyche depends on it. The worst nightmare for many athletes is to get injured, because they are physically restrained from working out. For me in Laos I also felt restrained, injured in a way, and there was nothing I could do about it. I realized that I couldn’t fight it, and had to change my expectations, change my perspective and embrace the culture and situation I was in. Once that paradigm shift occurred things took on a life of their own. I allowed myself to relax and not worry about how many miles I had to run in a certain day. I played the Lao version of Bocci ball with the locals every evening, and occasionally we would have a pick-up game of soccer or I would teach them how to play horseshoes. By acknowledging the situation I was dealt, and changing my approach, I emerged from that month with some very close friendships with the locals that I would not have had otherwise. Lesson- in difficult situations, take a step back, look at the big picture, and realize that is ok to release yourself from the grips of that rigid training plan sometimes.

My Favorite Village

Today was my third visit to Site 0947. Out of all of the four sites, 0947 has the friendliest and most outgoing workers. The workers and children would always have a smile on their face, and would come out in droves when the Dr. Baldwin was in town. The first time I made a medical visit there I saw over 90 people (mostly children), the second time over 110 and today I wasn’t sure what to expect. I packed my medical box to the brim with vitamins, toothbrushes, and medications. I was really looking forward to seeing if the patients I had evaluated and treated in weeks past had made any improvement with my treatment. For me, being able to treat those in need and then witnessing improvement in their health is the most rewarding part of being a doctor. I was able to experience it this day with many of my Lao patients. One child who could not even open his eyes because his eyelids were infected, swollen, and pus filled just two weeks ago, was completely healed, smiling, and playing with the other children. He was no longer an outcast. Another child who had fallen ill with malaria was back on his feet again, fever free, after a few doses of the expensive wonder drug Fansidar. I had treated a teenage girl a week prior who came to me with a large downward gash in her left heel which left her Achilles tendon exposed. She had walked several kilometers, without shoes to see me, and her wound was filled with dirt, grime and bacteria. I irrigated it thoroughly and stitched it up and gave her some antibiotics. She returned to me today, infection free, and the wound healing well. She was almost ready to get her stitches out! The beauty about treating infections in the 3rd world is that there is virtually no antibiotic resistance. Basic penicillin will kill just about anything. If only it were still that way in the States….



I saw many patients throughout the day with positive outcomes- rashes cured, ear infections gone, worms destroyed. It felt great. To top things off, at the end of the day the village chief told me through a translator how grateful the villagers were for all of my help. He appreciated all of the time I spent with his patients and said that I was the best doctor he had ever seen. Knowing that he probably hadn’t seen too many doctors in his day, I wasn’t quite sure how to take that. Nevertheless, I took it as a compliment. It was deeply rewarding.

Into the Bush on an Investigative Mission

Situation:
1969– Southeastern Laos
Ambush and killing of five Special Forces U.S. Army personnel on mountain ridge by the VietCong. Bodies not recovered, site of attack in question.

1979 – Laotian farmer comes across the bodies on the ridge with his herd of cows. One of his cows is blown up by either a piece of unexploded ordnance or mine. The bodies are thought to be bad luck and are avoided by the locals.

37 years later…..the exact location of the site remains in question.

Yesterday I was asked by the RT-1 Team Leader, Captain George Eyster whether I would be willing to be a part of an investigative mission into the jungle along with himself, Sergeant Baldeagle and a Lao official. He explained that they were in search of “Site 1522” which had eluded many teams in the past due to it’s location at high altitude on a steep ridge, and that a full team insertion had not been possible because there was not a good landing zone for a helicopter. He explained that they wanted to jump in off a helo, hike through the jungle to the ridge, identify the site, cut a landing zone on the ridge, and get extracted. There was a significant risk of a casualty with the helicopter drop off and possible UXO in the area, so they needed a medic along, and someone who was fit and could carry the chainsaw and hike for quite some distance in thick brush. I readily agreed.

We awoke this morning to howling winds and chilly temperatures. It was so cold I had to break out my sweatshirt and thought it amazing that just two days ago I had been sweltering hot and wishing I could take my shirt off. There was talk of whether the cloud cover was too low and the winds too strong to fly the helicopters today. We prepared for the mission regardless and decided to see if the skies would clear. I made sure to pack enough food and water to spend the night if we got stuck out there. For medical supplies, I packed a tourniquet, IV fluids, blood clotting agents, and battle dressings.

These were the basics needed for treating any large blast injury or trauma in the field. We were each issued walkie-talkies so that we would have good communication ability on the mountain. Captain Eyster would carry the map and GPS unit, his Ranger bag, rope and a machete, Sergeant Baldeagle would carry the EOD metal detector, his Ranger bag, and a hatchet, and I would carry my medical bag, a machete, and the chainsaw. We waited patiently, and by 0830 we were airborne with Andy the pilot and two Lao officials. We headed eastward into the mountains climbing to near 4000 feet through the dense clouds of the morning. Halfway there we spotted the larger Russian MI-17 helicopter heading the opposite direction back to Base Camp. They had been turned around due to thunderstorms and bad weather. We decided to press on and finally reached the designated mountain range. Captain Eyster was determined to get a good orientation of the ridge from the air and attempt to correlate the GPS coordinates and his map locations. I snapped some photographs for later comparison with the others. Andy the Pilot took us all over the mountain airspace and we identified possible drop off sites. We found an area of tall grass in a valley, two mountain peaks away from the designated ridgeline, and that’s what we decided to go for. We then went back to the local village to prepare for our jump. The plan was that Andy would hover 5-6 feet above the ground and we would jump out one by one, throwing our bags and equipment before us, and unfortunately (so we thought at the time) we had to take a Lao official with us. We all did a radio check and decided on a primary rendezvous point at a spot below the ridge where we cut the landing zone, and a backup rendezvous point as the top of the ridgeline. Andy would be at the primary at 1300 and the secondary at 1315 if we failed to show at the first. We reached the drop zone, and Andy began his hover. As we opened the door, the adrenaline rush hit, the rotor blades were spinning overhead, the intense wind from the rotor wash, blades of grass swirling every which way below us. We jumped out one after the other including the Lao official (in his nice shirt and dress shoes). I hit the ground and rolled, recovered and was able to snap a picture of the exiting helicopter from below. Everyone had made the jump safely, and now Captain Eyster led the way with his machete as we tried to cut our way toward the tree line through this massive grass which was twice as tall as any of us.

The Lao official trailed nimbly, obviously comfortable in his native land. It was slow going and after about 45 minutes of hacking and stumbling we finally made it to the trees where things opened up a bit. We had forgotten to wear gloves, and suffered dearly from all of the thorns and sharp grass which tore up our hands. Once we reached the tree line I made all of the guys stop and hydrate and I took out some of my Kerlex gauze and wrapped one of my fingers which had a pretty deep slice in it and was bleeding profusely. A little tourniquet action and things were all good. We pressed on for about another kilometer cutting across the mountain slope, and then stopped so Captain Eyster could take a GPS reading. We had made ok time and were about 500 meters down the mountain from the supposed site location, and about 200 meters up from the prospective landing zone that we were going to cut. Captain Eyster made the decision to abandon our proposed LZ and instead head for the site and the ridgeline. It would be too steep and too far from the site to the have the LZ in the previously proposed location. We turned uphill and I soon found myself leading the way through the brush, with my chainsaw in tow. It was hard going and very steep and the lack of fitness began to show in some members of our group. I pressed on and tried to cut the best route through the jungle. As I made my way uphill I was practicing good circumspection looking all around for any sign of manmade material, ordnance, or mines. Unfortunately Captain Eyster informed us, we had lost all of our satellite contacts on the GPS machine due to the dense foliage overhead so we were using our compass and approximating how far we had gone. It took us about an hour until we reached the top of the ridge. We stopped to hydrate and catch our breath. The trees were thicker than ever, and our hopes of cutting an LZ up here were dashed. We had reached quite an elevation and now were consumed by the clouds, and as we rested and felt our sweaty brows, we actually realized how cold it was. We were 3 freezing U.S. Gorillas in the Mist, and a Lao official. We had to keep moving. Captain Eyster consulted the map as the GPS still was not picking up a signal, and we decided to walk along the ridgeline to an even higher altitude to try and find a GPS signal. Sergeant Baldeagle led the way, and as the brush and foliage got even denser, I could sense his frustration and I too found myself getting frustrated and wondering how the hell we were going to get out of this mess. I put my hood up and told myself to keep going. We continued through the thorny brush, vines and triple canopy rainforest.

After what seemed like an eternity I heard Captain Eyster yell, “I have one satellite reading on the GPS!” We walked a little further. “Two satellites, Three!” He could now triangulate our position, and as luck would have it we were almost dead-on with our rudimentary navigation. We were about 20 meters from the site coordinates and had emerged into a clearing on the ridge which we finally decided would have to do as our helicopter landing zone. Luckily, our radios also functioned at our current location and we were able to contact Andy the Pilot and inform him of our change of plans and request some more time for the clearing of the landing zone. It was going to take some serious manpower as there were only three of us armed with just a hatchet, a machete, and a chainsaw. Luckily the Lao official was keen on helping us as well, and he whipped out his custom made machete. We set to work immediately without time to spare. Baldeagle began falling the large trees with the chainsaw as Captain Easter and I cleared smaller brush and bamboo. The Lao official (still in his collared shirt and dress shoes and looking largely unscathed) began falling trees with his machete like he was Paul Bunyan. We were relieved to have him along. Cutting a makeshift landing zone took quite some time, and an amazing amount of energy. The ground was not very level, and there were tree stumps, and huge pine trees to contend with. We prayed that Andy would be able to set the helicopter down in this site. Otherwise we would be spending the night, or would have to hike back down through the brush to the distant river bed. As it got further and further into the afternoon, the landing zone came into being and we decided to give Andy a radio call and give it a shot. Andy was on his way, and we prepared for the extraction. He maneuvered onto the site perfectly avoiding the trees, we loaded our bags and our filthy selves into the helicopter and prayed we would make it out of the dense foliage safely. Andy made the sign of the cross, and lifted off and before we knew it we were airborne and out of that hell zone of a jungle. Mission accomplished! We had correlated the GPS coordinates and location of the site, cut an LZ near the site on the ridgeline, and made it out of their safely. After some cleaning up and licking of our wounds back at base camp, we were ready for some beers, and some rest. There was much more work to be done yet in finding our fallen comrades from 1969.

Worms, and hardworking women

There are numerous parasitic diseases that afflict people in Southeast Asia. These are infectious diseases that I learned about in medical school, but have never seen in the United States. In my evaluation of the Lao thus far I have seen numerous cases of lice, scabies, worms(ascaris) and liver flukes (amoebas). Worms and flukes are some primary causes of liver failure and gastrointestinal distress and bleeding. Liver failure is currently one of the major causes of death in Laos. The main route of worm entry is through the foot (cuts /walking barefoot), and through fecal-oral transmission (mostly via food).



Amoebas are water-borne and found in the rivers, and lakes. You would rarely see such conditions in modern countries like ours, but here it is endemic. With our high potency drugs the cure is so easy. I’ve been giving out two doses of Albendazole to many people, which is all it takes to get rid of the worms. It’s the future prevention of getting it again that is the problem. Preventative medicine is largely nonexistent in this third-world nation. Little thought is put into the future. It is all about getting food in their stomach, and taking care of their immediate problems. It proved to be very frustrating to me when I gave them instructions on how to care for their health. They just don’t think that way.




Another observation that I have made is that the women do mostly all of the work, while the men lie around, smoke tobacco, and enjoy fresh meat, vegetables and rice, and then nap in the shade. The women have no such luxury. Their lunch consists of just rice (the men eat all the meat) and they are out laboring away under the scorching sun all day. The lack of protein/calcium intake is evident in their short stature, weathered skin, poor dentition and overall poor health as compared to the men. It is quite sad. The women tend to look older than their actual age, while the men look younger than they actually are. I made a point to give out as many multivitamins to the women as possible.

Stepping Foot into Vietnam

I had the day off from my medical duties and was asked if I would like to do some manual labor. One of the team needed some help in cutting a new helicopter landing zone closer to the plane crash site near the Vietnam Border. The pilot had failed to clear the Vietnam/Laos border ridgeline in 1969 and crashed into a very steep mountainside. We took a large Russian MI-17 helicopter to a clearing approximately 2k from the crash site. It was fairly overcast and cool morning, but nevertheless a spectacular ride up into the mountains. HMC Mabile and myself hiked through a recently cut trail to the proposed new LZ for the Squirrel helicopter. We carried our rucksacks and two chainsaws each along the ridgeline trail gazing at the valley of Vietnam below. We stopped for a quick picture straddling the border with our chainsaws held high. Upon reaching the site, I carefully walked down the steep mountainside to view the wreckage and work that had been done thus far. We visualized a casing for the rocket of a missile from the airplane as well as its engine block. There were about 25 Lao Thien (mountain tribal Laotians) there for labor and they had already built up forts under the tree canopy out of bamboo. I joined Chief Mabile back up at the proposed area for clearing and we got to work cutting down trees and clearing brush. I’ve never really used a chainsaw before, but I learned how to handle it well today. It provides quite the workout. I was sweating and fighting those trees all morning. The Lao workers were beating me in chopping down trees using their machetes! We broke for lunch around noon and I stumbled down the hill covered in wood chips and my clothes soaked with sweat and dirt. The Lao chief invited me and the other officers to their bamboo hut to eat with them. We enjoyed some of the best beef and pork I think I’ve ever had. We consumed it in the customary Lao style with balls of sticky rice, hot pepper sauce, and vegetables. I handed out some raisins and some canned pears, which the Lao people dubiously sampled after a little while. The afternoon sun was beating down in the clearing that we had created. We continued to clear trees and cut the stumps down to as low as possible, in order that the helicopter could make a safe landing. One area was teeming with fire ants and after fighting them off of my trousers, HMC Mabile and I quickly introduced them to gasoline and a match. It was quite fun. After some more clearing we had ourselves another surprise, as a huge tarantula came scrambling out of a tree. A Lao border guard shouldered his AK-47 rifle, and picked the tarantula up like it was no big deal. We were able to take some up close and personal photographs of the wiggling creature. The thunderclouds rolled in around 1500 and signaled our time to get out of their quick. We gathered our chainsaws and rucksacks up and headed up to the ridgeline trail and did double time in getting back to the helicopters. I had the opportunity to ride back in the smaller helicopter with the anthropologist, and team captain. They thanked me for my help out there, away from my doctor duties. The ride back was incredible navigating around thunderhead clouds and we even saw some magnificent waterfalls on the way. We landed safely at base camp and after showering up I had some time to reflect on the day and write this piece.

Helicopter Rides and Doling out Medicine

This was my first MEDCAP site and not knowing fully what to expect I brought along an assortment of common medications, vitamins, toothbrushes, and medical/surgical supplies. We flew over in one of the smaller “Squirrel” helicopters with the Kiwi named Angus as our pilot. With some gentle nudging from Sergeant Baldeagle, Angus put the helo through some rolls and a stall maneuver that made our stomachs feel like we were on a rollercoaster. It was tons of fun. Unfortunately the Lao official did not think likewise and quickly put an end to our festivities. The personnel of Recovery Team One had constructed a makeshift medical clinic out of bamboo and black netting in a shady spot in preparation for my site visit. After finding some buckets to flip over and sit on, and some boxes to use as an examination table, the clinic day began. I had decided that every villager was to get a toothbrush and a bottle of multivitamins. Not thinking that we would have enough, the Lao official suggested that we not give these out. I vehemently overruled him, and proceeded as planned. This village of Laotians were “Lao Thien” which in Lao means mountain people.



The Lao Thien are thought to be descendents of the ancient Kmer tribes from the south. They are of very small stature, dark skinned, lack the Asian features of other Laotians, and speak a different dialect (this tribe spoke “Brew”). We saw a steady stream of patients through the morning hours, with the males preceding the females. The patients’ small stature, malnutrition, poor dentition, and lack of hygiene was evident. Some appeared much older than their actual age (one woman whom the official and I was sure was in her thirties turned out to be just 15!). The most common complaints were toothache, rash, gastritis, headache, dizziness, and low back pain. For pain I gave Tylenol and Motrin, for abdominal discomfort I gave an assortment of Pepto-Bismol, TUMS, and Ranitidine, and for rash I gave out Clotrimazole ointment if it looked fungal, Lindane lotion for scabies, and Hydrocortisone and Benadryl for what looked like heat rash or dermatitis. I encouraged them to drink plenty of water with the pills in order to help alleviate their dehydrated status. Other problems I dealt with were two patients with conjunctivitis, three patients with worms, and one male patient with subjective malaria. The day ended having successfully used most of my medicines, and given away all of my vitamins and toothbrushes. In total I saw 63 patients this day.

Running with Cows and Living with Bugs

After a successful flight on a huge Air Force C-17 from Hawaii to Thailand, and a hop on a C-130 to Pakse, Laos, we all passed through the rigid communist Laotian gates and in effect took a step back in time. Laos has just recently begun to loosen its policy restricting tourism and acceptance of foreign aid. But who can blame them? A little over thirty years ago we were secretly bombing their countryside for years during the Vietnam conflict in an attempt to prevent the communist Pathet Lao group from taking over. We bombed the Ho Chi Minh trail for over 9 years and failed in our intent. From an aerial view the Lao land appears like a vast maze of bomb craters. Thousands of bombs, mines, and other unexploded ordnance are still littered all over the country. Hundreds of Lao people (including many children), are killed each year as a result of our “hidden war in Laos.”



We arrived around midday after a long helicopter flight to our base camp in the small town of Taoy. It was a sweltering day, and I was instantly drenched in my long pants and collared shirt. I was shown to my tent where I would be living for the next month, and upon entering realized how rugged we would be living. The inside of the tent was full of huge red ants. I asked one of the Lao officials if the ants bite. He replied “sometimes, but it only hurts a little bit. Welcome to Laos!”

I decided to put on my running shoes and go for a jog to explore. Running outside the base camp perimeter required a Lao escort, so I convinced a young kid (barefoot and smoking) to come along with me. We ran out the dirt road, through town, and soon had a few more runners join us. The only problem was they weren’t people. They were animals. We had pigs (and piglets) running after us for a while, then some chickens, and finally on the way back a herd of cattle charged behind us. I flinched upon their charge, but my barefooted buddy reassured me that things were ok. We arrived safely back at base camp, and I proceeded to the shower stalls for my first dirty shower. Imagine muddy, silty water (mixed with sodium hypochlorite) from a river coming out of the shower spout. All I have to say is thank goodness it rained sometimes.