Unconscious on the Dunes
From staff reports
Amy Bredehoft, from Birmingham, Ala., thought she was in shape to climb the Sleeping Bear Dune Climb on Monday, July 8. Sure, the 54-year-old and frequent summer visitor to Paul’s Paradise cabins on Little Traverse Lake had drunk coffee that morning and a couple alcoholic drinks the night before; she was on vacation, after all.
It was late morning, and not yet hot on the Dune Climb. But as she ascended the east-facing hill with her family, Bredehoft needed to stop frequently. She began to feel nauseous.
“That was the clue that I probably should have turned around and gone back down,” she reflected. “But I didn’t. I saw older people passing me and little kids. I thought ‘I’ll just rest. I can do this. I’ve got this’.”
Soon Bredehoft was vomiting. Her head was spinning and she couldn’t walk. Her hands went numb. She could hear people talking to her, but she couldn’t communicate with them.
“I remember them pouring water on me, trying to keep me cool. But it wasn’t working. I was basically a limp noodle.”
Lying in the sand at the plateau where the parking lot is no longer visible, she lost consciousness.
Her nephew Alex, a volunteer fireman in Virginia (who had already run down and up the Pierce Stocking Scenic Overlook #9 earlier in the day) ran to the Ranger Station at the bottom of the Dune Climb to get help. Ranger Victoria and Glen Lake Fire Department drove a Polaris ATV to reach Bredehoft, packed ice around her and took her to the parking lot, where an ambulance waited to transport her to Munson Medical Center in Traverse City.
She said she spent 5-6 hours in the hospital, receiving fluids and saline. The staff was wonderful, recalled Bredehoft.
“What I want people to know is I think a lot of us, including myself, walk around dehydrated and we don’t even realize it,” she said. “I didn’t have water with me on the hike. You don’t realize you’re dehydrated. A lot of us don’t realize, you’re already starting behind the game, and you really need to rehydrate.”
“Also, I didn’t listen to my body. I was trying to push beyond my limit, thinking I could do this.”
Four days later, Bredehoft and her family visited the Glen Lake Fire Department headquarters, “to thank them and to meet them,” she said. “I guess I met them before, but not in the best circumstances.”
Before leaving town, the family bought Glen Lake Fire Department t-shirts to remember the occasion.
