At hour 36 of what should have been a two-day ride, Maria’s bike slipped on wet rock and threw her into a ravine. The fall wasn’t far—maybe fifteen feet—but she landed on her arm, and the crack was audible.
She was alone on Chile’s Carretera Austral, 80 kilometers from the nearest village, in intermittent rain, with a broken arm and a loaded bicycle she couldn’t ride. Her satellite messenger battery was dead (she’d forgotten to charge it). Her phone had no signal.
What happened next, and why she walked out under her own power three days later, came down to a $40 first aid kit she’d almost left behind to save weight.
The Kit That Saved Her
Maria’s first aid kit wasn’t special—just carefully assembled over years of long-distance riding. Here’s what mattered and why:
1. SAM Splint (4oz)
This malleable aluminum-foam strip forms into rigid splints. Maria folded it around her forearm and secured it with the included wrap, immobilizing the fracture enough to use her hand for basic tasks. Without it, every movement would have ground bone against bone.
2. Elastic Bandage Wrap (2oz)
After positioning the SAM splint, the elastic wrap held everything in place and provided compression for the swelling that was already starting. She reused it for three days, tightening as swelling changed.
3. Ibuprofen (600mg tablets, 12 count)
The fracture pain was intense. Ibuprofen didn’t eliminate it but made walking bearable. She rationed: 600mg every 8 hours, enough for her 72-hour evacuation. Anti-inflammatory properties also reduced swelling.
4. Acetaminophen (500mg tablets, 12 count)
Alternating with ibuprofen allowed pain management without exceeding safe doses of either medication. She took acetaminophen at the 4-hour mark between ibuprofen doses.
5. Triangular Bandage
This became her sling. With one arm immobilized, she needed to keep it supported and still. The triangular bandage, tied behind her neck, held her arm against her chest during the long walk.
6. Superglue (Medical-Grade)
She’d also scraped her shin badly in the fall—a six-inch laceration that wouldn’t stop bleeding. After cleaning with her filtered water, she used superglue to close the wound. It held for the entire evacuation, preventing infection and blood loss.
7. Antiseptic Wipes (10 count)
Before closing the leg wound and before touching her arm fracture site, she cleaned her hands and the wound areas. Infection in the Patagonian backcountry would have complicated everything.
8. Nitrile Gloves (2 pair)
She wore these while treating herself, keeping dirt from entering wounds. Wilderness first aid happens in dirty conditions; gloves are the first barrier.
9. Emergency Blanket
That first night, shock and cold rain combined to drop her body temperature. The mylar blanket, wrapped around her sleeping bag, added critical insulation. She slept fitfully but warmly enough to function the next day.
10. Duct Tape (15ft wrapped around water bottle)
She used this for everything: reinforcing the splint, securing bandages, patching her torn rain jacket, and eventually taping her damaged shoe when the sole separated.
11. Tweezers and Safety Pins
Tweezers removed gravel from her shin wound. Safety pins secured the sling when the bandage knot kept slipping. Small tools solve small problems that become big problems.
12. Emergency Instructions Card
Written in both English and Spanish, this waterproof card listed first aid procedures. Under shock and pain, she couldn’t remember proper splinting technique—the card reminded her.
The Evacuation
After treating herself and spending the first night by the crash site, Maria faced a decision: wait for rescue (which might never come on this remote road) or self-evacuate.
She couldn’t ride—one arm was useless and her bike’s derailleur had bent in the crash. But she could walk. She rigged her bike as a walking aid, leaning on the saddle with her good arm, pushing it beside her.
Twenty-five kilometers per day, sleeping in her tent, eating the food she’d packed for two days stretched across three. On day three, a truck appeared. The driver took her and her bike to Coyhaique, where an X-ray confirmed a clean radius fracture that had been well-immobilized and was already starting to heal correctly.
What the Kit Weighed
Total weight: 14 ounces. She’d debated dropping items to save those ounces. She’d looked at the SAM splint and thought, “When will I ever need this?”
Every item justified its weight in those three days. The kit cost under $50 and took an hour to assemble. It bought her survival when nothing else could have.
Building Your Own Kit
Maria’s kit works because it addresses the most likely serious problems:
Trauma: Fractures, dislocations, lacerations. The SAM splint, wrap, and bandages handle immobilization. Superglue and antiseptics handle wound closure.
Pain management: Serious injuries hurt enough to prevent function. Adequate medication allows continued action.
Environmental: Shock, cold, wet conditions compound injuries. The emergency blanket and improvised repairs address this.
Infection prevention: Remote wilderness means days before professional care. Keeping wounds clean during that time is critical.
What She’d Add Now
After her experience, Maria upgraded her kit:
Blood clotting gauze (QuikClot or similar): For severe bleeding that pressure alone won’t stop.
Prescription antibiotics: Her doctor now provides a course for international travel. Wound infection in remote areas can become life-threatening.
Backup satellite communication: A second messenger with charged battery, stored separately from the primary.
More pain medication: She ran out 12 hours before reaching the road. Those hours were the worst.
The Real First Aid
The kit mattered, but Maria’s calm response mattered more. She assessed before acting. She prioritized correctly—immobilization, then wound care, then warmth, then evacuation planning. She rationed supplies for an unknown duration.
These skills don’t come from carrying a kit. They come from wilderness first aid training, from thinking through scenarios before they happen, from building the mental framework that functions under stress.
The kit is the tool. The preparation is what lets you use it.
For Your Next Trip
Spend the $50. Take the course. Pack the kit even when weight matters. The cyclists who survive remote riding aren’t luckier than the ones who don’t—they’re more prepared.
Maria’s story has a good ending because of 14 ounces of supplies she almost left behind. The worst outcomes usually trace back to items that seemed unnecessary—until they weren’t.
