Good grief....I must have lived the luckiest of lives! After reading the comments above, I wonder how I survived:
1. Cave exploring in non-commerical caves (talking about vertical caves and cave diving)
2. Desert hiking/rock hounding (digging around brush and rocks....ie. possibility of snakes and other bitty criters)
3. General hiking in the mountains off trail (climbing down rock falls and possibilty of falls and more snakes....did see some a couple of times but we went our seperate ways.)
4. Rock climbing & repelling....no free climbing....I was not that dumb.
In all those scenerios we had no first aid kits, no cell phones and no GPSs....and often no maps.
Only crisis was my drinking stream water that had passed through some poison oak. But I am much better now. LOL
Now, as an old codger, I carry first aid kits in all vehicles but have never had an opportunity to use them except for bandages for minor finger cuts. Normally I have to inspect them and throw away out of date meds.
I did all that and more, mostly with no training, and mostly with no business attempting such things (solo ice climbing without gear, anyone?) One story: As a young man, I spent a fair amount of time hiking (and even doing some climbing) in the Red River Gorge in Kentucky. Those of you who've been there will know how rugged the terrain is. There is a landscape feature, at the end of one trail, called Courthouse Rock. It's a big outcropping of sandstone, rather cube-like, as big as a good-sized four-or fize-story building, with vertical sides, and there are cliffs on 3 sides, with long drops to a certain death for anyone unlucky enough to fall off. On one side, there is a crevice in the rock that extends all the way up to the top. In the middle is a small dog-leg displacement. The only way to get to the top is by wedge-climbing up that crevice. When I was in college, I took a friend (who was, I think, a senior in high school then) out there. We climbed up that crevice, and spent some time up there enjoying the spectacular views while chatting with a couple that had climbed up before us.
Well, after a while we decided to leave. I got in the crevice first, and began working my way down. I was almost past the dogleg; there was a small mountain laurel plant growing there, in a little patch of soil, just clinging to the tiny level spot in the dogleg, looking like a Japanese bonsai plant. Around the base of that mountain laurel, a big copperhead was coiled up, taking a nap. He'd taken no notice of me (and I no notice of him) as I slipped by him; now, he was at eye level. So that my friend Jim wouldn't be taken by surprise, I said to him, "Jim, don't panic, but there's a copperhead around this mountain laurel". Jim
did panic, shouted, "CatchmeEddieI'mgoingtojump!!!", and he jumped. Now, we were in a crevice in the side of a cliff above one of those deadly falls. Somehow, probably with the help of a guardian angel, I managed to catch Jim (who was as big as I was), and keep both of us from falling out of the crevice. It was the sort of thing that almost no one could manage if he had planned to do deliberately.
Here's a view of Courthouse Rock:
Here's another story; not from wilderness, just out in rural farm country.
I worked for many years in a job that required me to work by myself in rural areas. One day, I drove into a grassy area at the edge of a cotton field, out in the middle of nowhere, to do some work. I pushed in the lock to my truck door, put the key in my pocket, and closed the door. Most unfortunately, I didn't pull the fourth finger of my right hand out of the way soon enough, and closed the door on the last joint of that finger, and the door locked on it. My finger didn't break, but I was badly cut, and bleeding....and I couldn't unlock the door. My key was in my right front pocket and I couldn't reach it with my left hand.
Again, by some miracle, the farmer just happened to drive up at that moment, to see what was going on. I asked him to fish the key out of my pocket and unlock the door, which he did. After taking a look at the damage to my finger, I became weak-kneed and started shaking. I knew I needed to go to an emergency room, but that I couldn't drive in that condition. So I asked the farmer to drive me to the nearest hospital, which he kindly did. I guess I might have been able to undo my pants and work them around so I could reach the right pocket with my left hand...but who knows how long that would have taken. The wound took 6 stitches (almost cut my finger off), and there is still a visible scar.
I have a pile of stories like these....I could write a book. Every time I think about what's happened to me in my life, I am amazed that I'm still alive.
We used to duck hunt on this big lake, way South of Spokane, no houses on it, famous for people drowning in it. People are still drowning in it. The lake was too big to freeze, except for about 20 feet of ice along the rocky shore. We'd skid our canoes over the ice and into the water, no life jackets either on or with us not one of us owned a life jacket, big old surplus Air Force arctic parkas on, pocket full of shotgun shells, jeans, cotton long underwear and heavy boots. The lake (Rock Lake) is also famous for "kicking up" unexpectedly, with four-five foot waves Some say six foot. Sometimes we would cross the lake in nasty weather. And no such thing as a first aid kit for sure. 
