On Doing The Right Thing

Dwelling on the past robs the present;

ignoring the past robs the future!

For most people: if you can't help, or don't want to risk your life for strangers, just call 911.

I've called 911 before, and I've fallen off a cliff in the ocean.  On Memorial Day's rescue mission I just did what had to be done.  Calling 911 was not registering as a solution at that moment.  They don't just send you a helicopter. It's also too easy to get spooked and fall off of a precipitous rock.  We had to ensure Michael was at least at a stable spot.   It was getting windier, and it was great we could have him secured on a rope.  Then maybe he could wait long enough, even tired and gripped by fear.  And sure my current disability insurance expressly excludes rock climbing; so be it!  Every act was through the prism of my personal experience, training, and ethical model.  There was no time for any of the following to consciously cross my mind. 

Tunitas Creek on my fantastic 1000km tour to Mexico, Christmas 2011

All three stories below are illustrated by this picture.
1) The cliff where I fell in the ocean in a rock fall in 2010
(the tall vertical face right above my rear tire, top rising to the horizon)
2) The bike trailer and lights that attracted the robbery I called 911 for
3) The beautiful bike frame that snapped in two that I just walked off

Legal issues

For the benefit of my non-American readers who don't understand the US legal system.

Anything you do to help puts you at risk of being sued.  Especially if someone doesn't die, but gets disabled.  And being disabled in the US is pretty expensive, so is disability insurance.

Here in Massachusetts the law requires you at least to call 911 and not walk away.  Even if the victim dies afterwards, you're legally not at fault.   In California one has no legal obligation to help, not even to call 911...  Whether you can sleep at night for not doing more is up to you.  In the current legal framework it's best if you get victims out unscratched, or leave them with no emotional damage - e.g. dead.

You always take responsibility - ethical, legal, and financial, both for your actions and inaction, whether someone dies or lives. Ethically you'd want to help if you can do better than the victim, but legally you can only help if you are officially trained.  I have only basic training in wilderness first aid.  Good Samaritan Laws allow me to legally provide help only to someone in medical emergency.  If conscious, he'd have to consent to my help after I state my level of training, i.e. I am not a doctor.  

Although last week Michael did ask for help, it could also be interpreted to call help, not to provide help.

Calling 911

Yes, I should have asked someone to call 911 to back us up.  Yet I don't know how more effective emergency response would have been; I couldn't call myself; and it takes time to persuade for help.

In our case, coaching Michael how to stay safely on the rock, and guiding him to a better spot, might have been enough till official help arrived.  We should have had them at least on standby.  If they were necessary they'd be too late.  It was a pretty windy day: my kiteboarding friends had a blast that afternoon.  I don't even know if helicopter rescuers would have been safe with their ropes flying all over.  Land or sea rescue may have been an option, and I didn't know whether his cove was connected.  Our beach is only reachable by a foot trail.

Yet at first I didn't see it as an emergency.  With the impression that he somehow climbed from our beach, it couldn't have been that hard to get back.  I believed I can reach his spot, so he should have been able to get out as well.  And I am not much of a climber, he ought to be better than me if he decided to climb that high, right…

Second, I'd needed to send someone else to explain where and what was happening.
Until I saw Eric on his phone I assumed there wasn't coverage here.   My cellphone didn't have coverage at the previous beach, so it was in my car half a mile hike away.  Its battery went dead as usual, so I didn't even know which beach I am at :)

And, third, we may have failed to show imminent danger to put our tax dollars to work to send a response team.

911 call Christmas Eve 

The only time I've called 911 was on my way back from a 1000km bike tour to Mexico.  On that call I was calmly explaining I was afraid I was getting bike/carjacked by a teenage gang, possibly with guns.   It took me longer to convince the girl on the other side to send the cops for cover, than took the two cruisers to report.  She was right - there was no emergency - I wasn't shot or robbed … yet.  

I had ridden late at night and just reunited with my car after a week of biking.  My helmet, bike and trailer were all flashing like a Christmas tree, and we had grabbed much attention that late Christmas Eve.  A car had followed me and dropped a kid in a hoodie and passed behind me.  The kid wasn't engaging in small talk and eye contact.  After he tried to open my car door, I asked in a commanding voice (the one for hollering at dogs) what is he trying to do.  He retorted "You don't understand, do you?" with hands sticking in his pockets.  

That had me put 911 on speakerphone in seconds on my backup cellphone.  My primary iPhone had been stolen that morning, so I had the spare within reach.  That theft and the the ride to Tijuana had helped jolt me back to reality after a blissful week biking thru California countryside.  Maybe I was too edgy?  The brawny officer who reported to the scene said that in that part of Ventura, he would have called the cops too...  

I really should avoid travel on holidays - I always get in trouble ;)

Rock Fall

Back to this Memorial Day - Michael wasn't showing that raw fear I saw later.  If I went over to 'give him a hand' things could have turned pretty disastrous.   Once fear and panic set in he'd clutch on me sending us both down.  I know how easily the rocks of California beaches crumble by slightest movements. 

It's happened to me too - once I got so jittery by a rock fall that I fell in the ocean.  

It was on one of many occasions of me doing stupid stuff.  A couple of years ago at Tunitas Creek Beach, my intense curiosity led me to "just see the next cove around the cliff".  At least I had someone keeping an eye on me.  I saw rock piles on the ground, so I tiptoed cautiously(?!) watching for rock fall.  I heard rocks crumbling high up that started falling on my earlier path.  I instinctively looked up and leaned into the rock.  That took my weight off my feet so I slid off the ledge.  

Good I regained my usual calm in the cold 55F (12C) water.  I was back with a few strong strokes before the current took me too far out.  And I pulled myself up before the next wave splattered my stupid brains on the rocks.  I only had to pay a fine for my water damaged Bulgarian driver license.  Though I told my parents the partial truth about my wallet getting wet at a beach ;)

Obviously I get dumb bumming at a beach.  Good I usually just cross it to get in the water - regularly swimming a mile out, kiteboarding on windy days, surfing on rainy ones, or freediving even when there is hail.  Which takes us to the final consideration.

Disability Insurance

So, what about my own safety, trying to rescue someone on unstable cliffs?
I have a will, so I only worry about getting disabled.   Hopefully I am just wasting my money on disability insurance.   I'd rather never get any return on this investment.  Yet, my current insurance has a lot of exceptions, e.g. rock climbing accidents are not covered.   I almost got through the phone pre-screen when I applied for the insurance (while telling the truth the whole time).

"Do you do any scuba diving?"  No.  (Scuba is too dangerous, I used to be certified.  The only diving I do now is freediving.  It's much safer anyways - no gear fear, just sound body and mind needed.   I can hold my breath for 6 minutes.  But requires a buddy, just in case you blackout...  )

"Do you do any mountaineering?"  No.  Well, I've hiked three 4000+ m peaks but nothing technical.    I simply ran barefoot on the summit of Mt Whitney (4421m) and solo hiked 69km to Mauna Loa (4169m).
"Climbing mountains?  Rock climbing you said, with ropes and stuff?"  Oh, no - I really don't trust my life on gear.  I always need multiple backups.  I am an engineer.

(If my insurance agent is reading this,  I was technically just doing scrambling on Monday…  That's not rock climbing, you see…  I wasn't even secured by a rope. )

"Do you do any motorcycling racing?"  No.  Just cycling.  Everyone rides a bike, right?  (Sure, I do some cycling events, but I am not racing - I am happy to finish - as an average Ironman.  You can't go fast after riding all day.  Really, I never go more than 45mph on the downhills.  If I pass cars on long steep downhills it's because it is safer than overheating my brakes...   And I've only had two bikes fall apart in my hands - I just walked off unscratched in a crash.  While motorcycles fall on top and crush you, bicycles are definitely safer. )

"Do you do any martial arts?"  Uh.  Yes.  It's hard to explain they got me for my safest and sanest recreation.  We mostly work on technique, while contact with a partner is always controlled and stylized.  The attacker announces his attack for a block to be ready.  He must always be able to stop before impact.  We rarely get anyone injured. 

"Is there fighting?"  No - it's a very boring style of karate.  (The few staged fights tried against cajoled masters comprised of just one block instantly accompanied by a deadly punch slowed down to a mere knockout.  Who'd want to watch such quick fights?)

Anyways, I failed the last question, so I had to fill a detailed exclusion form.  I admitted to all above avocations.  Even though they weren't asking :)  

It was best to ensure my application will hold up if I ever have to file a claim.   The more pedestrian injuries and illnesses are statistically much more probable.  Sport accidents are just a minor source of disabilities, even if we double the expected risks, due to my impaired self-preservation and magnetism for trouble.   

I hope my readers would still feel safe going on trips with me ;)

Now the insurance exclusion doesn't mean I'd not do what needs to be done, or stop doing what I love.  It just means I have to commit to be fully responsible for my own safety.  

Overall I think up to getting Michael tied on the rope he couldn't have had better luck.  I have to ponder more about the rest of that day.  Could we or others have extricated him unscratched?

Stop, Eat and Drink. Think. Act. Hiking Mauna Loa - Part 1 of 3

I hiked 69 km (43 miles) in 49 hours (including two sleepless nights) to the summit of the largest mountain and largest active volcano.  This three post series will cover most of the experiences and lessons learned and reinforced above 4000 m - including my favorite topics of hypothermia, solo adventures, and altitude sickness.

Most of the fun started in the critical couple of hours around sunset.  I had just summited Mauna Loa 4,169 m (13,679 ft) and I was on my way to the summit cabin - 4.5 miles (7 km) on the other side of the crater at 4,039 m (13,250 ft).  I was losing sensation of my fingers - especially bad on my left hand - exactly where I had two layers of gloves!  Maybe I could last half an hour before frostbite, but it was better to take care of my fingers now than to wait until I make it to the cabin.  I do need my fingertips (e.g. to write this blog), so I had to do something about them.

Stop, Eat and Drink. Think.  Act.

A good old advice for any critical situation is to stop, think, act.  In the mountain I'd extend that stop time to always first include drinking and eating!  And at 4,000 m, don't forget to breathe!

Taking time for my freezing fingers increased the risk that I won't make it to the cabin before dark.  I estimated that the cabin was probably just a mile away, sunset in half an hour, wind was picking up  (~15-20mph), temperatures subfreezing and quickly dropping.  Windchill was bad enough, I could just imagine the fun on this stretch if you are wet from rain, snow, or your own sweat.  Good there were no rain clouds and the snowstorm was expected the next evening.  I had hopes the wind may die off after sunset.  The warmth of direct sun contact was very palpable when getting in and out of the shadows.  It was already very dark inside the giant caldera.  I thought I could make it to the cabin even on headlights and I was close enough. 

Walking on crumpling lava

Lava is a very treacherous terrain even when it's not melting.  Walking mostly on the established trail, I had a few ankle bites from rocks bouncing and crumpling.  Looking for the cairns - black piles of rock, on black lava - against the setting sun was plenty to think about on thin air.  Off the trail, it's a new level of experience.  You have to learn what lava textures, shapes and formations are stable and relatively safe to walk on and plan a few steps ahead.

Some history.  I was in a crater last New Year's Eve on a different adventure on the Napau crater trail.  I was again chasing the sun at sunset. I hadn't anticipated the total darkness inside the crater at dusk beyond the shadow of the crater rim.

It was awe-inspiring to know you are likely the first and for sure the last man to ever step on a piece of earth falling apart.  You have to watch for textures as some lava will crumble into dust under your weight.  Watch for shapes even if texture appears solid, a lava bridge can crumple.  Piles of crumbled lava plates on a lava lake shake with every step.  Probing ahead with the trekking pole helps find the most unstable pieces.  Yet, occasionally you still fall a foot or two.  Cracked by pressurized lava gone underneath, a lava tube can be close to collapsing.  Steaming cracks and sulfurous fumaroles are not reliable indicators what to avoid.  Sometimes you have to jump over cracks that you don't see the bottom of, and the ground is crumbling where you land.  You look back and see a half a meter hole where you were just standing.  Just keep running, just keep running...

Over hot tea last night we were sharing stories with the other two backpackers on the mountain: Martin - an ex- fighter jet pilot, and his cousin Davie.  Martin had backpacked through all 50 states and had lived for 30 years a few miles from the volcano.  His most memorable experience went back to the 1970s - he had taken a 'shortcut' through the crater of Mauna Loa after a recent eruption with the ground crumbling down 1 m deep.  I commented he still had very vivid memories after so many years, and we both agreed such thrills are best experienced just once in a lifetime.

I've already had that adventure, and a reminder of it earlier that day the few times I got off the trail getting down the summit.  This time I had a heavy backpack and I was hiking solo.  

Maybe with headlights I could stay on the trail, though it was hard enough to follow the trail at daylight. 

Two headlights with one at lower height could help negotiate the relief and avoid stumbles.  Yet batteries would likely die quickly with subfreezing temperatures.  If I got off the trail after dark, the best course of action would probably be to setup shelter for the night.  I was self-sufficient so I could overnight here if needed after getting my fingers back, so that was a good backup plan so I could afford to stop.

Freezing hands treatment plan

I stopped in a lava tube even though it was cold, as the protection from the wind was most important.  

If your limbs are freezing the best thing to do is warm up the core and get the body furnace going.  Eating some carbohydrate gels and drinking plenty of water got me started.  I also put another core layer.

I removed the gloves.  First to assess what's going on - it looked like my liners were restricting blood flow.  I left the gloves off to get maximum circulation, counting on wind protection from jacket sleeves.

I went for a quick run to generate some more heat (but not breaking sweat!).

I warmed up my hands on my biggest, close to skin arteries - going in order femoral (between legs), carotid (neck), and finally close to heart when hands were warmer.  It seemed to take a while before I regained sensation.

I increased my speed a notch to very brisk to keep me warmer and of course get me to the cabin faster.  My goal was to stay on track, and watch each step, as it would be the worst time to treat sprains or injuries.

Staying hydrated is absolutely critical for preventing both hypothermia and altitude sickness.

Fast exertion required breathing through both nose and mouth, and thin cold dry air especially though the mouth requires a constant supply of water.  

Now we can analyze what really went wrong:

Mittens vs Gloves

   The glove liner wasn't stretchy enough and was cutting circulation!  I was also gripping the trekking poles too tightly.  

   For photography and campsite chores I prefer wearing gloves vs having mittens.  If you need to take mittens off for precise tasks, you are overall more likely to get frostbite.  It's also hard to remember to put heavy duty mittens next to your swimsuit when packing for Hawaii ;)

Trekking pole technique

   My trekking pole technique is closer to cross country skiing / Nordic walking with double poling.  It had been working great to use the whole body to carry the extra weight.   I had no knee problems at all, even later on the downhills with the heavy backpack.  However, my poles were getting stuck in the cracks in the lava.  The final throw backwards with straight arm, open hand, weight on strap, was no longer that effective.  The left side of the trail was also less stable.  For both of these reasons I had started mostly gripping tightly the handles to plant better.

   Changes made: For the rest of the evening kept moving my hands and always did the catch and release.  On the final flat stretch, I switched to using the poles just when tripping and not for active support.  I held my hands on the strap instead of using the exposed grips.

Aggressive plans require aggressive execution

At 9am the previous day I had been looking for dolphins at the beach weighing whether to go freediving at -66ft or give my worsening ear infection a break.  I decided to play it safe and stay dry on the

volcano at 13679ft.  The prudent ranger at the park suggested the standard five nights itinerary, and to be prepared to stay longer in the cabins when the looming snowstorm hits.  He also said that it takes most people a full day to go around the crater even without backpacks as it is all at 4000 m.

The recommended Mauna Loa itinerary (5 nights): first night at the park at 4000ft; morning start for 7.5 mile hike to cabin at 10035ft; 11.5 m hike to summit cabin at 13250ft; 9 m hike to summit 13679ft and back to the summit cabin; 11.5m back to red hill cabin; AND on the sixth day 7.5m hike to trailhead.

My aggressive Mauna Loa itinerary (2 nights) 7.5m hike to stay at 10035ft in an afternoon; 16.5m hike to summit 13679ft and staying at summit cabin 13250ft; with a 19m hike back to trailhead on third day. I assumed altitude sickness (AMS) won't get to me immediately, so I could make the 7.5 miles in 4 hours. Everything else was just best case estimates, so I reserved 2 extra nights if AMS or bad weather got me.  With this plan I carried water for only 4 days, assuming that if the snowstorm comes I could melt snow.  Everything so far had been going according to plan, except for some delays to be covered in part 2.

If you make aggressive plans, execute aggressively.  I had worried that my outer ear infection might turn into an inner ear infection, as last time I had otitis it affected my balance.  I had doddled in the morning thinking it might be wiser to hike with Martin and Davie.  They weren't planning on doing the extra 5 miles from the intersection to the true summit that day.  

Martin and I hit the trail at 8am.  I still made it to the intersection at 1:30pm so I had decided to go for the summit.

Lessons:

* Hiking at dusk should never be planned in.  The day was very short - 11 hours.

* Never waste daylight.  Wake up at dawn, leave camp at sunrise.  Next day I did that.

GPS and batteries

My GPS was dead.  I had been taking waypoints every hour and that usually burns 1% battery.  At the summit it plummeted from 59% to dead.  We can blame as much Garmin, as the wind and cold.

Lessons:

  - Never rely on a GPS.  Obviously a map and compass need little maintenance.  

  - Absolutely never rely on a wrist-mounted one.  Carry a GPS with replaceable batteries in an inner pocket if you insist.

  - Never rely on a Garmin.  I do like it for training, but the battery life is so poor it can't last a whole Ironman competition.

None of this mattered at this point, as the terrain was totally unsafe for night time off-trail hiking.

Self-sufficiency

At the last intersection I had left a note to the Martin and Davie saying I am heading to the summit.  The note had been turned, so I knew they were already ahead at the cabin.  I wasn't counting on them to come look for me.

My backpack was heavy to satisfy demands for self-sufficiency in the desolate lava.  I had 3 more days of food supplies and water (10L).  On the positive side, I was prepared to set up camp if necessary.  I expected temperatures ~20F(-7C), but high winds were a worry as there was a snowstorm expected in two days.  The cabin would be nicer and safer.

At the cabin

There was still some light to take pictures of the otherworldly terrain.  Before I entered the cabin I checked out the thermometer at the window was just below freezing not counting the wind 30F (-1C).  The temperature was rapidly falling as the daylight was disappearing.  It's fancy LED display also had last night's minimum at 16F(-9C).  (Next morning I checked this night had been warmer at 20F (-7C)).  Either way camping out of the cabin would have been cold.  I was glad I made it.

I saw a propane stove light and I was thinking about getting some hot tea as I walked in.

Martin: Where is Davie?

To be Continued...

Freediving in Monterey and Hypothermia

Or How to Get, Treat, and Prevent Hypothermia

I had my first freediving class last weekend, and we had amazing ocean diving practices in Monterey, CA. I have yet to absorb all the knowledge of physics, physiology, psychology, and skills for efficient diving pouring from Kirk, Hawkeye, and Erin. I had used a 'floating holiday' for this 4-day weekend class, and indeed did a lot floating and even some sinking ;) (with negative buoyancy below -10m).

This post will talk mostly about hypothermia as I am better prepared to analyze everything I did right and wrong putting my wilderness first aid training to use.

The +/- comments are post-mortem analysis with a clearer head, on what to do for proper hypothermia prevention and treatment.

• Fitting freediving wetsuit
  I wouldn't have had to write a posting about hypothermia, if I could find a proper fitting 7mm Yamamoto 45 freediving wetsuit for the conditions in Monterey.

There were two appropriate freediving wetsuits in 4 dive shops in driving distance. They were either too baggy or too short and my head wouldn't fit.
- I put together a layered wetsuit combination, since it was too late to order a custom wetsuit,

• Subcutaneous fat. I have only 9% fat and most of it visceral. I probably need to add some for freediving:
  + I would have some natural insulation. The Aquatic Ape Hypotheses is partly based on the fact that humans have sub skin fat like marine mammals instead of fur like other apes.
  + I would be more buoyant and my legs won't sink like lead;
  + I would also have extra energy reserves for staying for hours in the water.
  + Having average fat would help me fit in stock wetsuit sizes

Too late to fix that even if I wanted to.

Keep in mind that the skin receptors determine whether you feel hot or cold, yet the core is what really needs to be warm.

Similarly skin controls heat loss through skin blood vessel dilation and sweating, or vasoconstriction and shivering.

No need to worry about thermoregulation effects of fat vs blood vessels in my case.

After pool session first day let's get in the ocean.

Day 2 - Monterey, CA
o 8mm suit + 5mm hooded vest inside, 5mm gloves, 7mm booties
- Lots of water sloshing and worse flowing in the suit, especially on dives or surface swimming

o Plenty of excitement from first ocean freedives, big swell, and man-sized jellyfish
o Fin kicking to keep warm with face submerged, it felt like I was warming up.
- Definitely neither of the above is helping my breathholds, as they keep my
heart rate up instead of slowing it down during breath ups.
- Worse this requires higher respiratory rate - and loses more heat
through breathing.
- Swimming is not a very effective way of warming up. Shivering is better!

o I was doing some pushups on the bar to stay out of the water.
+ Indeed good to keep the head and the body out of the water,
unless wind causes more loss from evaporation

Kirk's mentioned his competition wetsuit wasn't even wet the first half hour,

and noticed how violently I had been shaking the float ;)

- High intensity shivering uses glucose that I would quickly run out of,

while low intensity shivering uses fats

o Home care: very aggressive hot fluid intake,
I was trying not to get a cold that would completely screw up my already bad equalization.

Day 3 - Monterey, CA
It was time to make some changes. Next experiment was to put the
hooded vest on the outside.
o 8mm suit + 5mm hooded vest OUTSIDE
+ It did indeed reduce the water flow through the neck and the back zipper,

- I lost some layering on the core though as the vest was baggy.

Overall I believe this was better.

Yet every time I did a 10 count exhale around the 9th when my heart rate dropped I'd shiver from the cold...

I had lost some dexterity but I felt overall good.

Still, I thought I was functioning normally as I was joking around:

e.g. when I had blood in my nose from bad equalization technique. I was laughing that
"I am just chumming for sharks ;)"

This time I checked to know how cold I was,

as I do carry a hypothermia thermometer in the med kit.
Body temperature 34C (93.5F) => mild hypothermia

Water temperature at -7m (23ft) had been 14C (57F) according to the dive computer.

Home care:
o Virgin lilikoi margarita
+ Good choice, alcohol causes skin dilation and you just lose core heat.
Of course, overkill precautions since we are already indoors.

o Hot fish udon soup for dinner

++ Core rewarming plus food to increase heat production

Next morning core temperature 97.2 was a little low but OK.

Day 4 - Monterey, CA
o 1mm neoprene skin + 8mm suit + 5mm hooded vest OVER wetsuit
5mm surfing gloves OVER, 7mm yamamoto boots UNDER wetsuit
+ The extra skin seemed to take some of the slack, and reduce water flow.

• Predive ritual - pouring warm water in the wetsuite.

Sure feels good, but unsure whether effective in the long run.
- Skin gets warmer and will lose more body heat if the water drains out.
+ If the water indeed stays in the wetsuit, should be good: there is
no need to warm up the first batch of cold water.

At least on the first dives I was still warm and getting to the target depths with ease.

Erin: "I was getting cold just watching you there"

Colder morning, water temperature 13C (55F) at -14m (46ft?) - my deepest dive.
Body temperature 33.5C (92.3F) - no protection combination seemed to be working for this deep and long exposure.

I was functioning fine, but I took it more seriously this time.

Hypothermia self-treatment:

1. Alway keep core dry and warm, then head and finally extremities.
   + Bundled up to preserve keep created by core
   + Drank some water and a little food to keep producing heat.
   
   o Mylar wrap (emergency blanket) would have been most effective for core warming.
   -- I usually have a very convenient wrap in my beach bag, but was in the car as I had used it last week...
   
   -- No hat
   
   
2. Warm shower in the 'head' on the boat - tried to focus on core only.
   - Felt good but was definitely not going deep enough,
   may be dangerous to do on the boat if we had a long ride back.
   - Better to be shivering to generate more core heat and trap it in clothes or blanket.
   I'd skip this.
   
   
3. Turned up the heat in the car. Had a good wicking base layer to move sweat away and not get sweaty.
   + Breathing warm air is definitely a good way for core warming.
   
   
4. Tea with lots of honey. My aunt's homemade honey from the Black Sea helped me visualize warm Black Sea waters and beaches.
   ++ Hot and sweet liquids are definitely a double win on core rewarming and energy.
   ? Unclear whether visualizing calming warming will make your skin lose more heat. Can't help it ;)
   
   
5. Signed for the next class in Kona, Hawaii
   + Some excitement definitely should help get the heart rate up and increase heat production!
   
   
6. Went for a hot tub (110F)
   Warming the core through the skin earlier would have been too slow.
   My procedure to get warmed deep to the bone:

• Keep hands and feet out of the water initially.
• Always raise core temperature first. At this stage for me just best practice,
  but if this was earlier in rewarming it is critical not to warm up limbs before core.
  After that,
• Stay as long as possible.
• Once you get too hot - go out, drink some water.
• Stay out until you start shivering!
• Then get back in the tub for iterating to reaching the next level
  + My theory: core should be warming up faster since water heat exchange is faster than air, and skin permeates. Evaporation from the exposed wet skin will create an air insulation layer, so core heat should be preserved while not losing much in the process of cooling off the skin.

• Cooled off my head
  After getting out with a few stumbles and momentary losses of motion control,
  I realized I had a near blackout from overheating.
  
  This was pretty ironic given I didn't get any LMC or blackout fun at any of the dives or the static apneas (4:20 minutes).
  
  Fix: with core bundled, stayed with a wet head out in the cold air till I got back my bearings.
  + Evaporitave cooling at its best. I should write another post on hyperthermia.

What a weekend!