August 18, 2007

A trail report from the Catskills- the day I almost did not make it out of the woods alive

 

August 18, 2007: A Hiker’s Journal Entry (a true story)

 

4:30 AM: Yes, I’m getting up. Hold on, ok? Go get your freakin’ coffee while I pack, and make breakfast, and lunch, will ya’? Yes, I’ll be ready on time! This from you- Mr. I-haven’t-been-on-time-for-a-date in 2 years! Are you kidding me?

 

5:15, All right, all right let’s go! I was just checking the weather forecast. You know it’s supposed to pour this afternoon, right? YES I have my raingear! But we are hiking SIX mountains today!

 

7:00 [At the trailhead] Thank God I don’t have to listen to the Grateful Dead anymore! Ok, there’s the person he wanted to meet. Always interesting to go off-trailing with someone you don’t know. Let’s hope this guy knows what he’s doing…

 

7:15 [as Iain and my BF look at trail maps] Um guys, did you think to print a copy for me? And… am I included in this discussion? Hmmm…. I notice Iain does not have a map of his own, or a compass. He’s navigating by GPS? Oh s**t we are in trouble if he’s leading. Ok looks like we’re heading off in some direction or another. Interesting choice of paths- I would have chosen the ridge instead of the runoff gully. To each his own. Looks like we are heading- straight up. At a 70 degree angle. The. Whole. Way… Great.

 

8:15 I finally saw the map. We’re trying to angle back towards towards the ridge I tried to point out. Looks like we just wasted ¼ mile. Checking the contour lines, we have 2700’ of elevation to gain. Better take this slow.

 

10:00 The climb up the ridge is steep, but gorgeous. Strewn with boulders, mossy glades, birches, towering cherry trees. I’m trying to take in the beauty, but the boys are sprinting. I’m trying to keep them in sight. I have a compass, but no map. Got to keep them in sight. Oh look blue jay feather! What a beautiful morning. Wish I could enjoy this. I’m remembering why I love to do this!

 

11:00 Who the hell climbs 2000 feet straight up without taking a break?!!?

 

11:45 I’m sorry- I don’t care if it’s “only another 300’ to get to the summit!” I have to eat something right now or I’m going to pass out. Maybe three years ago I could have done this marathon, but I’ve been a desk jockey for two years, remember? I need to pace myself if I’m going to make the whole day without hurting myself. He’s just going to have to wait.

 

12:15 PM [Near the top of Friday Mountain] Ah the fresh smell of balsams. We have passed the 3400’ mark, I can tell by the tree-line changes. It sure is thick up here! Clouds are starting to roll in. We still have plenty of time. Let’s hope we make a straight shot right for the canister. According to what I recall- it should be over there… looks like Iain thinks it’s a different direction. Time to go on a scavenger hunt! Looks like we’re going to split up to look for it? Is this a good idea? Isn’t it better if we… never mind. 

 

1:30 Where the hell is Iain? The spruces are so thick you cannot see more than 3’ in front of you. I am pushing through them with my entire weight, for each step. It is like swimming in trees. I’ve never seen anything like this before in my life. Combine that with this treacherous footing…

 

1:45 Where the hell am I? I look at a tree, only partially fallen. Leaning at a steep angle against another. Can I make it? Will it support me? I hope so. Carefully, I scale the dead spruce, trying to get some vantage point that isn’t a wall of impenetrable green. Hmm… looks like the ground slopes upwards over… there. To the right. I’ll head that way.

 

1:47 OUCH! I just stepped off a small cliff I couldn’t see because the trees are so thick. Damn that smarts. Feels like I may have pulled something in my right thigh, too. Better keep an eye on that.

 

2:00 I was right- my BF just found the canister in the direction I was heading. I hear him shouting. Iain and I materialize out of a green veil of conifers like apparitions. We converge on the canister, sign in and eat lunch. Chickadees are swarming, How often do you get to say that?

 

2:20 On to Balsam Cap Mountain. I’m walking carefully, compensating for the pulled muscle in my thigh/ groin. We skirt a series of sheer cliffs, and carefully pick a trail down through a “pass”. The rocks at least make the trees a little less thick. We get to the col between the mountains, and Iain leads us in a circle.

 

3:15 We are making horrible time, and it’s not just me. Tracklog says .6 miles an hour from pushing through balsams and spruces. I didn’t think it was possible for them to get any thicker. I have been proven wrong. I’m almost not strong enough to push through them anymore. I can't see my hand in front of my face. My whole body is scratched and bruised from the branches, the spurs, the needles. I have balsam needles down my shirt, in my bra, in my ears, in my navel. I have sap runing through my hair. I’m starting to get sick of the smell of balsam, actually. Tell me again why I do this?

 

3:30 At the final push for the summit, now 6 miles into a trailless hike, I feel something in my right knee snap as I scramble up a cliff face. This cannot be good. We meet Iain at the top, and sign the canister and head towards Rocky Peak's summit. Iain leads us in another circle. Balsams thinning somewhat. My knee is aching.

 

4:00 Iain very impatient. My leg is throbbing, haven’t told my BF. He really wants to make a good impression on Iain. I eat something. Iain runs off… in a circle. The first peals of thunder are heard.

 

5:10 We stop to tend my BF’s eye, which has been scratched pretty badly by a spruce branch. He gets his vision back, more or less, after 10 minutes. We make the approach from the col towards Lone. I am worried about time, and walking is starting to get painful. Rain starts falling, softly. We have 6 miles minimum any direction to get out of here. My strength is now into reserves- I pushed it too hard keeping up while ascending Friday. We run into Iain… back from a circle. My right leg will not bear my full weight. We are 300’ vertical from the summit of Lone. I ask if we can please skip this one. It starts raining harder. Iain is annoyed, but something in my look tells him not to push me.

 

5:15 Iain asks, “Was it supposed to rain today?” I am dumbfounded. Who plans a 12-mile bushwhack trek over six mountains, and carries a GPS, but doesn’t think to look up the weather forecast?

 

6:00 After another circle, I lose patience. A copy of the map is handed to me (finally!!) and I navigate by compass and tree idenitifcation. It is pouring. My BF is cold- his raingear is keeping him dry not warm. Mine is a Korean War surplus jacket- wool- so tightly knit it is water and wind resistant. I hand it to him, and wrap him in it. Walking uphill is torture. Absolute torture. We still have two mountains to cross- the two highest. We are out of food and water. I hobble on, stopping every 150' to make sure I am keeping the bearing straight. I lead us on a contour to the approach to the top of Table Mountain, without incident. No circles. :-)

 

7:00 It is too dark to see well. We are making the final approach up the side of Table Mountain. I can no longer climb uphill, and am crawling on my hands and knees. The pain is intense. My BF finally realizes something is wrong. I have led us to the best ridge, now we just have to cross it, and find the trail. My BF takes the lead, with GPS in hand

 

8:00 We put on our headlamps. I can barely move. We circle around looking for the trail, endlessly crashing through these despicable conifers.

 

8:45 STOP RIGHT NOW AND TAKE OUT THE GODDAMNED MAP AND SHOW ME WHERE ON IT YOU THINK WE ARE! I do not have the strength to keep pushing through these spruces! Pain is encompassing my world. I show him what compass bearing to take. I'm feeling light-headed.

 

9:00 We find the trail. The rain has turned to a downpour. I am soaked to the bone, and starting to get hypothermia. At least we don’t have to push through any more spruces. If I never smell another balsam again as long as I live it won’t be too soon…

 

9:15 We cross the highest point of Table Mountain, and descend towards Peekamoose, the last, in darkness. Our headlamps highlight the falling rain, eerily. My teeth are chattering. A snowshoe hare runs in front of us like a denizen of another world. I'm not sure it is real. Its coat blazes like fire, like I am seeing through the eyes of a predatory animal.

 

9:45 With the trail, we summit Peekamoose fairly easily, compared to everything else we did this day. The pain has taken on a life of its own. I am semi-coherent. My pack feels like it weighs 100 pounds. I am pretty sure I can’t take another step. There are still 2600’ of vertical to go- straight down. No respite.

 

10:00 I have never known anything like this before. The trail is greater the 45 degrees, the water a raging torrent around my ankles. Each step makes me cry out in pain. The downpour has become a monsoon. I have tears running down my face. Every step is a white flare of agony. I want to lay down on the trail and die. Just die. I realize with startling clarity that if I stop moving, I will not make it out of these woods alive this time. I start bargaining with a higher power to let me live.

 

10:15 I am so cold that my body is numb to everything except the blinding pain. The trail is now steeper, and has little round rocks that move underfoot when you step on them Each time I do, my foot rolls, sending a fresh stab of agony through my nerves. I am crying openly. I sit down. “I can’t go any further. I can’t” I mean it. I have depleted my reserves. I simply cannot take another step. I have made my peace. I will die here. Nobody can talk me out of it. The world becomes shadowy.

 

10:20  Iain’s wife calls. In the rain. It is a classic, “can you hear me now?” moment. I laugh. Something about laughing makes me stand up. It gets through to me. I start moving again, before my muscles can stiffen. My pack has become my cross to bear.  I force my foot to rise for each step. I force it down. I count, one to seven, then start over again. Hundreds of times. I lean on a hiking pole for support. The pain is a flare, it is all that there is. It encompasses my entire world. Almost six miles of it. I cannot remember the world without pain.

 

10:45 I almost give up. Almost. I take another break, and crawl up a tree to get to my feet. My right leg no longer works.

 

11:15 We are almost there. The trail has leveled. Only instinct is keeping me going right now. I can no longer hold a conversation. I have never known pain and exhaustion and fear like this. I am no longer animate. I'm unaware that I am still moving forward.

 

11:30 I think I am hallucinating when I see the taillights of the car. I have never been so happy to see a car. I get into the back of it and lay down. I have made it out. I cannot believe it. On my own- still carrying my pack. I do not remember driving Iain back to his own car, at the other trailhead. I do not remember the ride home. My BF helped me up two flights of stairs into my apartment. That’s all I remember.

 

He never doubted my ability in the woods again.

Author's Note

Three weeks later, an MRI confirmed that I fractured the cartilage under my right kneecap into two pieces, and the pieces were grating on the nerve in my knee. It was a long, painful road to recovery, that eventually led to severe back problems the following year.

Reviews

[raining]

How tough you are. That indominable tramping onward, all choice otherwise taken away and with "lain" being super hiker... I have hiked with super hikers before. One had us all "doing chores" at the end of a ten hour hike, ordering us about when all the rest of us wanted to do was sleep. This was so interesting I could have kept reading if it was much longer... I hope your knee and back are recovered from this ordeal. thanks for such a good story. raining

[Vesa Lee]

You give new meaning to "survival of the fittest", Marie.
Truly I am awestruck at your strength of will.
Also, I really love how you formatted this; it defiantly draws the reader in.

I'd say this venture earned you -at least- 17 girl scout badges... ;D

[Shutterbug]

Wow you are tougher than I would be in that situation. I probably would have stopped and forced the men to carry me out and then yelled at them all of the way for them putting me in that situation to begin with.
Great story...Sorry to know that it is true.

[Tate Morgan]

My how your mind does always think I can undertstand as mine is never quiet either .

[Through the Gateway]

" I notice Iain does not have a map of his own, or a compass. He's navigating by GPS?"
"Iain runs off� in a circle."
"Iain asks, "Was it supposed to rain today?""

What a freakin' moron! You should have left him for the freakin' bears.

More proof that intelligence and experience wins out over machismo every time. Good read! I could feel the weather getting colder, and the branches of the trees as they tried to keep you from your goal. Your pain as your knee snapped and the steely resolve that welled up within you. Truly...a warrior spirit.

[Tim H]

Into Thin Air meets Into the Wild. Great story. Very compelling read.

[Voice11]

Oh my goodness! I would never be able to do that! Just being on y trip I couldnt carry the hiking pack on the last leg of it! You are truely very strong to do that!