If you look to your left right now and can’t see the sun, that’s mostly likely because the burning, glowing orb is being completely obscured by the massive balls of Craig Johnson, who survived a three-day ordeal in the Alaskan wilderness that would have left Jesus dead.
Johnson was traveling by snowmobile from Wainwright to Barrow to visit family. If you are unfamiliar with those cities, that’s because they are at the end of the freaking earth. Look for yourself.
That is death incarnate. That is not inhabitable. That is freaking, fucking, freezing cold. Just living there sounds like the worst story ever, but this is only where Johnson’s ordeal begins. From the Telegraph:
He was about halfway when his snowmobile fell through sea ice and sank along with a GPS device that would have allowed rescuers to locate him, Mr Johnson said.
Having suffered internal injuries from the crash he crawled out and then, in soaking clothes, endured temperatures as low as -35F as he stumbled inland.
Yea. Alaska in December, even at its southernmost point, is a death trap. Here? Lord knows. Yet Johnson didn’t do what you would do, which is die. Instead, he crawled out of the icy, frozen water. His prospects only got bleaker as a wolverine began tracking him, hoping to feed. To fend it off? He stabbed the beast with a god damn stick.
Mr Johnson said he was then pursued for several miles by a hungry wolverine before he found an empty wooden box, used by hunters in the summer, where he hid.
There was no survival gear or way to light a fire and the wolverine besieged him. He still had his gun but ran out of ammunition firing at the animal and ended up fending it off by stabbing at it with a stick.
We would all have given up 1,000 times over in this scenario. But not Johnson.
A search was launched involving dozens of people on snowmobiles, a plane, and a helicopter.
Mr Johnson said: “That third night they passed right by me – not even 200, 300 yards – that’s when I lost hope.
“I just laid back down in that box I was in. It just felt like that was an open grave for me. That was going to be my last night. They were going to bring me home in a body bag.”
Except they didn’t because, powered on by the memory of his father who perished in a similar situation, Johnson endure long enough to be found by his cousin. Huddled, freezing, but alive. From ABC:
It doesn’t matter the conditions, I had to go. That’s my cousin,” said Clifford Benson.
Benson said the wind and snow erased nearly all signs of Johnson until he heard his cousin yelling.
“I’ve never heard someone yell like that anywhere,” said Benson.
He was treated for frostbite and hypothermia, but not elephantiasis of the testicles. Those are just his normal balls.