I call this Planning Part One not because I have a sequel already in mind. Nor do I have some extended idea that will require more than one post to flesh out.
I do expect that there will be more than one of these simply because we are sliding into the pit of winter and one of the fantastic parts of this time of year is figuring out your plans for the upcoming year.
Some of it is easy: for example my annual April backpacking trip, it is easy to plan and easy to post up on the Meetup site (copy, change dates, post) and the small change I did make to it - well, I have 4 months to figure it out. I included a mystery day that really does not have any real plan behind it and a dozen or more people signed up for it. Hope I come through!
Other things are easy, I posted about a half dozen day hikes on DaytonHikers.org and any day now I will pull together the money to send to the Great Ohio Bicycle Adventure. That along with dayhikes I have signed up for will get me rolling through about June.
What is missing is the big adventure. I did not really partake of one this year, not compared to some of the posts you can read here. Poor planning, changing schedules, and a host of other little things conspired to keep me off the trail - not the least was a summer-changing injury that I may describe some day but for now trust me I was not moving well.
I look forward to firing up the woodstove, grabbing maps and some copies of Backpacking magazine and working through the possibilities for 2015. The AT? Somewhere else? Finger Lakes Trail is tempting but so is Michigan. A 10 day effort or a couple of long weekends? Have to slip in at least one trip to Red River Gorge, just because. The window is open to just about anything, and I promised myself I would get all of this arranged early on so I do not let 2015 slip away like this past year did. There were opportunities for adventure that I could have taken, perhaps a motorcycle camping trip or a car camping exploration of sites worth seeing ... I let those get away too with busy weekends and chores and work. Not this year!
My adventures require planning because I have to work. I have a generous but not unlimited vacation plan and it does require some thought to shoehorn in everything I want to do in a given year. Still I consider myself lucky to be able to do the things I do.
So let the snow fall, I will tackle the winter in dribs and drabs with snow hikes and cold runs and too much time in the Rec Center. I will also pour some hot chocolate and sit by that fire and dream of what I can do. Then all I have left is to make it a reality.
Monday, December 15, 2014
Wednesday, December 10, 2014
A Simple Night Out
It was a quick event, far short of an epic adventure. It took longer to drive there than it did to walk the trails.
In a quest to capture some Christmas spirit I signed up for a Meetup hike through DaytonHikers.org at a local MetroPark: A Luminary Walk at Aullwood Garden.
On arrival I met up with the group and for a while we stood in the parking lot, shuffling our feet and chatting. People introduced themselves and mingled. I knew some of the hikers but not all, my hiatus from hiking has kept me away while the group has added and subtracted members.
At the designated time we headed into the park and walked along pathways cleverly lined with plastic milk jugs lit with candles inside. Pitch black otherwise, we walked and talked and traded stories. After a short while we found ourselves next to the Aullwood house where MetroPark rangers and volunteers were serving cookies and hot chocolate.
A quick tour of the first floor of this quaint house, a short history lesson, and we were on our way back to the cars. The original group had splintered into many, and as we found our way back to the cars we had our brief "nice to meet you" and "see you again soon" comments and before I knew it I was back on the freeway headed home.
So why is this short little trip even a part of Reboot, Select Adventure?
It was a good reminder that simple things are important too. A conversation with someone you have never met before. A hot cup of cocoa standing next to a fire burning in a drum. A chance encounter with someone you know who came late but caught up. Watching the kids dashing about, excited about a night out in the woods. A ranger with an expertly told tale about the history of the house and the grounds that momentarily takes you back in time.
It reminded me that in the long run adventures are about people. People you know and people you have yet to meet. What is an adventure without a tale to tell? What good is a tale without someone to tell it to? Plus it was just plain fun. We all were laughing. We all were playing. We all enjoyed a simple night out.
In a quest to capture some Christmas spirit I signed up for a Meetup hike through DaytonHikers.org at a local MetroPark: A Luminary Walk at Aullwood Garden.
On arrival I met up with the group and for a while we stood in the parking lot, shuffling our feet and chatting. People introduced themselves and mingled. I knew some of the hikers but not all, my hiatus from hiking has kept me away while the group has added and subtracted members.
At the designated time we headed into the park and walked along pathways cleverly lined with plastic milk jugs lit with candles inside. Pitch black otherwise, we walked and talked and traded stories. After a short while we found ourselves next to the Aullwood house where MetroPark rangers and volunteers were serving cookies and hot chocolate.
A quick tour of the first floor of this quaint house, a short history lesson, and we were on our way back to the cars. The original group had splintered into many, and as we found our way back to the cars we had our brief "nice to meet you" and "see you again soon" comments and before I knew it I was back on the freeway headed home.
So why is this short little trip even a part of Reboot, Select Adventure?
It was a good reminder that simple things are important too. A conversation with someone you have never met before. A hot cup of cocoa standing next to a fire burning in a drum. A chance encounter with someone you know who came late but caught up. Watching the kids dashing about, excited about a night out in the woods. A ranger with an expertly told tale about the history of the house and the grounds that momentarily takes you back in time.
It reminded me that in the long run adventures are about people. People you know and people you have yet to meet. What is an adventure without a tale to tell? What good is a tale without someone to tell it to? Plus it was just plain fun. We all were laughing. We all were playing. We all enjoyed a simple night out.
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Redefining a blog
How do you define adventure?
It started for me with the Appalachian Trail trip last summer; a perfect example of an adventure and this blog was started to help me explore the preparation, the trip itself, and my personal reflections on what I learned about myself throughout the entire experience. During the process of documenting this I suddenly stopped writing and it took a while to figure out why. Perhaps it was a lack of momentum, time commitments and phases of life, even sheer laziness and lack of commitment. But there was more ....
I began to see adventure as more than a single trip. This sentiment echoed through the writing and became more apparent each day-- that I was not going to come to any revelation from this trip except for one idea that kept bouncing around in my head: I still have a lot to learn!
The real adventure for me is not what I have done, even though there are some great stories that I shared and more to come. The excitement comes from the unexplored, the anticipation of "what's next?" and what it takes to get there. I saw the concept of Reboot, Select Adventure take on a life of its own and grow into something bigger than the concept of personal growth through select outdoor experience. I was living something that was different than I had ever experienced and I got caught up in the moment --forgetting to document it and share it with you. That is easily rectified, though I am still wading across this river with no far shore in site.
I have new adventures from the winter to share, and adventures planned for this summer that are completely new to me as well as others that will be more familiar but hopefully will come with challenges, twists, and a new set of highs and lows. Each decision I make right now is carefully considered to ensure that I am finding ways to select adventure over routine. It's not perfect but I hope that as you take this journey with me the questions I raise will help you find your own personal path, and the answers we are all seeking come to us as we need them.
As I write this I recall that I should be on the trail right now but a series of events conspired to pull me off the AT and put me on a new path. I will never know if it was a good decision, but it's a decision that was made and in that moment it opened up new opportunities that will become the next set of stories for June and July.
Stick around and look for new entries on Sunday and Wednesday nights, as I round out the AT stories from last summer, talk about my experiences this winter, and very soon I will start documenting my next big thing.
It started for me with the Appalachian Trail trip last summer; a perfect example of an adventure and this blog was started to help me explore the preparation, the trip itself, and my personal reflections on what I learned about myself throughout the entire experience. During the process of documenting this I suddenly stopped writing and it took a while to figure out why. Perhaps it was a lack of momentum, time commitments and phases of life, even sheer laziness and lack of commitment. But there was more ....
I began to see adventure as more than a single trip. This sentiment echoed through the writing and became more apparent each day-- that I was not going to come to any revelation from this trip except for one idea that kept bouncing around in my head: I still have a lot to learn!
The real adventure for me is not what I have done, even though there are some great stories that I shared and more to come. The excitement comes from the unexplored, the anticipation of "what's next?" and what it takes to get there. I saw the concept of Reboot, Select Adventure take on a life of its own and grow into something bigger than the concept of personal growth through select outdoor experience. I was living something that was different than I had ever experienced and I got caught up in the moment --forgetting to document it and share it with you. That is easily rectified, though I am still wading across this river with no far shore in site.
I have new adventures from the winter to share, and adventures planned for this summer that are completely new to me as well as others that will be more familiar but hopefully will come with challenges, twists, and a new set of highs and lows. Each decision I make right now is carefully considered to ensure that I am finding ways to select adventure over routine. It's not perfect but I hope that as you take this journey with me the questions I raise will help you find your own personal path, and the answers we are all seeking come to us as we need them.
As I write this I recall that I should be on the trail right now but a series of events conspired to pull me off the AT and put me on a new path. I will never know if it was a good decision, but it's a decision that was made and in that moment it opened up new opportunities that will become the next set of stories for June and July.
Stick around and look for new entries on Sunday and Wednesday nights, as I round out the AT stories from last summer, talk about my experiences this winter, and very soon I will start documenting my next big thing.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
The thousand word picture Part 2
When I posted the picture last week I asked for some comments and received a few. They ranged from "courage" to
"sleep walking". I think that I captured some of the essence of what long
distance hiking is all about.
First the picture. I could have staged a shot and fixed a few technical problems, but this was truly a snapshot. I like the composition. I like the way the trees are lit, the way our model was lit, the way the light looks like it is pushing at her. I like the placement of everything in the shot and I did not crop the final result. I like how our hiker interacts with the scenery and is the center of attention but still part of everything. Sometime you just get lucky ...
Then there is the feeling of action. There is a timeline in this picture; I see her putting one foot in front of the other, moving through the picture even though it is a frozen moment in time. I see the confidence and determination; she looks strong with just a hint of fatigue. She is definitely going somewhere.
She is walking on a trail, but in front of her everything disappears into a white nothingness. She does not know what is around the next corner or where exactly the adventure will lead. Behind her is a complete scene --- trees and trail and a sparkling, colorful landscape. It's like she is creating her environment as she goes. The experience belongs to each person and each hiker has the opportunity to make it into something uniquely their own. She was choosing, or so it seems, to make special and and beautiful moments.
There is a story behind this picture. This was day seven of hiking and we had been through a lot. The day before we had watched EMS crews evacuate a friend with a broken arm off the mountain. We had spent a long night in a buggy, fairly awful shelter. We were all tired. Together we had done about 3 miles that morning and at a road crossing I bailed out so she could complete the last 15 miles in one high-speed push. Her pack stripped of excess gear to lighten up, it was already 11:30 when she took off "slack-packing".
The rest of the team arrived to pick me up and we immediately set out to park at the next possible road crossing a few miles away to offer some "trail magic" in the form of ice water, cold drinks, snacks and our injured friend in the truck feeling better with her new sling on. That is where I grabbed my camera and took this picture.
When I see that picture it takes me back to that day and everything that was going on. I see a woman who fought hard to get to this place and overcame all of the obstacles to push on. I see someone boldly walking towards the unknown and not breaking her stride. I see a hiker that will achieve goals yet still enjoy the beauty around her. I see a picture that tells not only her story, but shows anyone what it is like to be a backpacker on a difficult trail living life one step at a time.
First the picture. I could have staged a shot and fixed a few technical problems, but this was truly a snapshot. I like the composition. I like the way the trees are lit, the way our model was lit, the way the light looks like it is pushing at her. I like the placement of everything in the shot and I did not crop the final result. I like how our hiker interacts with the scenery and is the center of attention but still part of everything. Sometime you just get lucky ...
Then there is the feeling of action. There is a timeline in this picture; I see her putting one foot in front of the other, moving through the picture even though it is a frozen moment in time. I see the confidence and determination; she looks strong with just a hint of fatigue. She is definitely going somewhere.
She is walking on a trail, but in front of her everything disappears into a white nothingness. She does not know what is around the next corner or where exactly the adventure will lead. Behind her is a complete scene --- trees and trail and a sparkling, colorful landscape. It's like she is creating her environment as she goes. The experience belongs to each person and each hiker has the opportunity to make it into something uniquely their own. She was choosing, or so it seems, to make special and and beautiful moments.
There is a story behind this picture. This was day seven of hiking and we had been through a lot. The day before we had watched EMS crews evacuate a friend with a broken arm off the mountain. We had spent a long night in a buggy, fairly awful shelter. We were all tired. Together we had done about 3 miles that morning and at a road crossing I bailed out so she could complete the last 15 miles in one high-speed push. Her pack stripped of excess gear to lighten up, it was already 11:30 when she took off "slack-packing".
The rest of the team arrived to pick me up and we immediately set out to park at the next possible road crossing a few miles away to offer some "trail magic" in the form of ice water, cold drinks, snacks and our injured friend in the truck feeling better with her new sling on. That is where I grabbed my camera and took this picture.
When I see that picture it takes me back to that day and everything that was going on. I see a woman who fought hard to get to this place and overcame all of the obstacles to push on. I see someone boldly walking towards the unknown and not breaking her stride. I see a hiker that will achieve goals yet still enjoy the beauty around her. I see a picture that tells not only her story, but shows anyone what it is like to be a backpacker on a difficult trail living life one step at a time.
###
Note: Laura and Cristina completed this hike together and arrived in Damascus safe. This blog was about this picture, but I would not feel right without mentioning Cristina and her efforts too. Step by step she hiked this hike and inspired her own stories that are coming. She completed every mile including this 18 mile day and I applaud her strength and courage. A picture of them together would have told a bigger story but technology or my skill as a shooter did not allow that.
 |
| Cristina (front) and Laura during their 15 mile slackpack and 18 mile day, arriving at the Trail Magic intercept point |
Thursday, August 16, 2012
The thousand word picture
I assume everyone would come up with a different story about what is happening here. Some would see a picture of an attractive woman, others would see a hiker, some may wonder about where the trail came from or where it goes, others may be interested in the conditions, or her state of mind.
This picture jumped out at me and I really like it, and not just because Laura is featured in it or because I took it. There are a lot of interesting things happening in this picture and I wonder what someone sees who did not share in the experience. I think it tells a number of stories about this adventure and about hiking in general.
Take a moment and comment on my Facebook page at www.facebook.com/selectadventure. Tell me what you see or how this picture makes you feel.
I will post my thoughts in a future blog.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Overnight at "Double Bug" Shelter
My little group was dwindling. Six hikers had shrunk to three. Kenny was ahead of the bunch, last we had seen of him was before Watauga Lake. Cathie had been plucked off the mountain by Carter Co Search and Rescue just that morning and Andy had accompanied her. Cristina, Laura and I had decided to press on despite a mix of emotions. Cristina wanted to get off the mountain, I was overly concerned about water on the trail, and Laura was trying hard to hold it all together while dealing with her concern about Cathie and the group.
I remember that the trail was not exceptionally difficult that day, but it seemed to keep going up and up and up. I think I was just discouraged when we got to the road but a debate ensued for quite a while before we decided to hike out again. We needed to decide if we were going to bail out at the road and reset in Damascus, or keep going. Emotion was running high.
We had just topped off our water and we were heading to a shelter called Double Springs. Earlier we had encountered a hiker who had given us a good report on water at that site, but a group of young people came by and told me they had been unable to find water. After my two water emergencies that did not strike a real positive note with me. I voiced my concern to Laura who snapped back and held my commitment to the light of day. She also reminded me that listening to trail reports from three rather awkward looking young people was not the same as getting a thumbs up from an experienced hiker, and that we would press on and find what we need because that is what happens. I had to overcome my fears.
I realized at that point I was just letting everything get to me and I really had to go all in or get out. I opted to stick with it ... she was right. We were still strong, we had food and water, the weather was fine, and we had a destination called Double Springs. Figured we would find at least one of them! Cathie was safe and we had decided to press on. I had to trust in my team, trust in myself, and do what I had come to do.
Glad I stuck with it because soon we were crossing a really nice part of the trail through some active pasture complete with cows -- and we were on the same side of the fence that they were. Making a mental note to not mention anything about my beef eating habits until we were out of earshot, we cruised past the cows who gave us a few disinterested glances and resumed munching grass. Soon enough we had climbed the second fence and were back in the woods. This little interlude of sunshine, nice views, and pleasant terrain gave me a second wind. Unfortunately I did not manage to take any pictures, but the images are pressed in my memory and I think I just needed to hike and immerse myself back into my goal.
Soon enough we found Double Springs shelter and we set up camp. Though we had the shelter to ourselves we soon found out we actually had company in the form of thousands of little flying gnats. Cristina swept out the shelter and set her tent up on the platform. After a thorough search of the uneven grounds Laura and I ended up huddling our tents together on the only flat surface we could find.
I doused myself with a more than liberal amount of 100 percent DEET. Barely legal and not advised for anyone who fears any number of strange diseases, it did keep the bugs away so I could cook and eat my dinner. Laura cooked and ate her dinner while walking around. Cristina noted that the leaves of all the trees were thick with some sort of bug ... but in true outdoor fashion it was more a curiosity than a concern and most hikers tend to not worry about anything that is not going to actually drag you in the woods and devour you. The bugs could wait, I had dinner to eat and sleep to work on.
The bugs subsided, and the evening cooled off a bit. Cristina hopped into her tent and fell asleep. Laura and I, true owls in the woods, sat up for a bit and enjoyed one of those nice interludes that make all the work worthwhile. The moon came out and we tried to take pictures. We heard an owl in the distance. We talked about whatever and remembered to try to not wake up Cristina, just few feet from the table in her tent. We looked at pictures and sipped water and just enjoyed the night, being out on the trail and some peaceful and fun time together. Eventually we unwound and realized we were tired and we dispatched ourselves to our tents for some sleep.
The next thing I remember is waking up to a loud buzz. It sounded like a fly had gotten stuck in my tent fly. Actually it sounded like a lot of flies. I crawled out of my tent and puttered over to the table. Cristina and Laura were not up yet, so I quietly brewed a cup of coffee. Sitting at the table, sipping my drink, I hear that same buzzing all around me. In the early morning light, with my glasses off and my awareness dulled from a deep sleep, I slowly start to notice that the ground seems to be moving. I stare at the motion to find it is flies. Hundreds of flies, lazily flying around the site. I recall the bugs on the leaves. They were now awake. I watch with mild interest, so deep into life in the woods that I really don't care so long as they are doing their thing and not coming after me.
Cristina stirs and calls out,"What is going on out there?"
She is hearing the fly ruckus too. "It's flies. Everywhere."
"Is it bad?" she asks.
"It's like the I-75 of flies out here," I reply, referring to our busy Cincinnati/Dayton interstate highway.
With some efficiency we finished our breakfasts, Laura woke up to about the same question and answer routine, and she soon emerged from her tent to face the flies. With even more efficiency we packed and headed out of there. Double Springs shelter was not an ideal overnight place, probably due to overuse, a lack of leave no trace habits, and perhaps the location and timing.
That was night six in the woods. It turned out to be our last night. Wish it had been a pristine campsite but we made it work. We had some campsites that were great, so one out of six is not bad. I slept just fine and yes, Double Springs had plenty of water. We were fed, watered, rested and ready to tackle another day.
I remember that the trail was not exceptionally difficult that day, but it seemed to keep going up and up and up. I think I was just discouraged when we got to the road but a debate ensued for quite a while before we decided to hike out again. We needed to decide if we were going to bail out at the road and reset in Damascus, or keep going. Emotion was running high.
We had just topped off our water and we were heading to a shelter called Double Springs. Earlier we had encountered a hiker who had given us a good report on water at that site, but a group of young people came by and told me they had been unable to find water. After my two water emergencies that did not strike a real positive note with me. I voiced my concern to Laura who snapped back and held my commitment to the light of day. She also reminded me that listening to trail reports from three rather awkward looking young people was not the same as getting a thumbs up from an experienced hiker, and that we would press on and find what we need because that is what happens. I had to overcome my fears.
I realized at that point I was just letting everything get to me and I really had to go all in or get out. I opted to stick with it ... she was right. We were still strong, we had food and water, the weather was fine, and we had a destination called Double Springs. Figured we would find at least one of them! Cathie was safe and we had decided to press on. I had to trust in my team, trust in myself, and do what I had come to do.
Glad I stuck with it because soon we were crossing a really nice part of the trail through some active pasture complete with cows -- and we were on the same side of the fence that they were. Making a mental note to not mention anything about my beef eating habits until we were out of earshot, we cruised past the cows who gave us a few disinterested glances and resumed munching grass. Soon enough we had climbed the second fence and were back in the woods. This little interlude of sunshine, nice views, and pleasant terrain gave me a second wind. Unfortunately I did not manage to take any pictures, but the images are pressed in my memory and I think I just needed to hike and immerse myself back into my goal.
Soon enough we found Double Springs shelter and we set up camp. Though we had the shelter to ourselves we soon found out we actually had company in the form of thousands of little flying gnats. Cristina swept out the shelter and set her tent up on the platform. After a thorough search of the uneven grounds Laura and I ended up huddling our tents together on the only flat surface we could find.
 |
| Laura with her color coded gear, and note one camp shoe, one boot, one bandanna knee compression device and her commercial knee brace slid down to her ankle. This kind of abandonment of style was par the course of all of us. |
 |
| Cristina's tent on the shelter platform |
 |
| Laura and Todd sharing the single flat surface. No fire tonight! |
The bugs subsided, and the evening cooled off a bit. Cristina hopped into her tent and fell asleep. Laura and I, true owls in the woods, sat up for a bit and enjoyed one of those nice interludes that make all the work worthwhile. The moon came out and we tried to take pictures. We heard an owl in the distance. We talked about whatever and remembered to try to not wake up Cristina, just few feet from the table in her tent. We looked at pictures and sipped water and just enjoyed the night, being out on the trail and some peaceful and fun time together. Eventually we unwound and realized we were tired and we dispatched ourselves to our tents for some sleep.
The next thing I remember is waking up to a loud buzz. It sounded like a fly had gotten stuck in my tent fly. Actually it sounded like a lot of flies. I crawled out of my tent and puttered over to the table. Cristina and Laura were not up yet, so I quietly brewed a cup of coffee. Sitting at the table, sipping my drink, I hear that same buzzing all around me. In the early morning light, with my glasses off and my awareness dulled from a deep sleep, I slowly start to notice that the ground seems to be moving. I stare at the motion to find it is flies. Hundreds of flies, lazily flying around the site. I recall the bugs on the leaves. They were now awake. I watch with mild interest, so deep into life in the woods that I really don't care so long as they are doing their thing and not coming after me.
Cristina stirs and calls out,"What is going on out there?"
She is hearing the fly ruckus too. "It's flies. Everywhere."
"Is it bad?" she asks.
"It's like the I-75 of flies out here," I reply, referring to our busy Cincinnati/Dayton interstate highway.
With some efficiency we finished our breakfasts, Laura woke up to about the same question and answer routine, and she soon emerged from her tent to face the flies. With even more efficiency we packed and headed out of there. Double Springs shelter was not an ideal overnight place, probably due to overuse, a lack of leave no trace habits, and perhaps the location and timing.
That was night six in the woods. It turned out to be our last night. Wish it had been a pristine campsite but we made it work. We had some campsites that were great, so one out of six is not bad. I slept just fine and yes, Double Springs had plenty of water. We were fed, watered, rested and ready to tackle another day.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Fall on Iron Mountain
Fourteen miles, that is a long day. I had been nervous about it since the beginning, but we were nearing the end. We were uncertain about how far we had come, but Andy had mentioned that once we pass under a set of power lines, we would be close to camp. It was a great relief to see that landmark and soon we came across a beautiful tent camping area right next to the water source.
A quick break to stake out a tent spot and we decided to fetch water before it got too dark. A smooth, gentle downhill path led to a brisk stream with clean water. One by one we secured our water collection gear and headed out. Suddenly I heard a crashing noise in the brush, and a shout of pain. Someone had fallen! I hurried down the path to find Cathie on the ground and Andy starting an assessment. We all fall now and again on these trails, little did we know at the time how serious it was. I helped out for a minute and gave Andy some EMT tips but figured it was just a bump or strain. Once she sat up, it started to develop into something far more serious.
A primary assessment revealed that she could not move her right arm, I palpated the elbow and noted that is appeared to be dislocated. Circulation, sensation and motor skills were OK, so she cradled her arm and with Andy's help worked her way back to camp. I quickly headed to the stream to tank up on water (an exhausted dehydrated spacy medic would not have contributed much to the cause) and scurried back to camp. A better secondary exam performed by Andy and myself revealed that the damage to Cathie was limited to her arm, no other injuries and thankfully she did not hit her head when she fell. I could not tell if anything was broken, but the dislocation was apparent from her limited range of motion.
Andy and Cristina fashioned a sling out of assorted bedclothes (including I think some elastic long underwear) while I tried 911 on my phone. We had cellular service at this campsite, and thankfully we all had mostly charged phones. I did not expect much from 911, and once I described a non-critical patient they advised that we needed to hike out in the morning. If anything changed, I was to call back, but with night coming on they were not going to mount a rescue for a dislocated elbow on a mobile, conscious, and otherwise healthy patient.
Together we formed quite a team. Andy was the primary caretaker and did an excellent job. I was advisory medic and worked on locating Kenny (who had hiked on ahead after Wataugu Lake but was in a better spot to perhaps secure a vehicle), Cristina became the nurse, assisting Cathie with changing and getting comfortable, and Laura phoned an emergency room doctor.
The doctor talked to Cathie and reviewed her medical history and prescriptions, then we all listed what medications we had brought with us, and the doctor pulled together a plan for what to give Cathie to safely help alleviate her pain.
Cathie ate some dinner and we carefully tucked her away in her tent, where she spent a long, sleepless night. The next morning Andy called the National Forest Service, who agreed to arrange for Carter Co EMS to send a team up to meet us by the power lines we had passed the night before.
A better sling was fashioned from a water bladder that was partially inflated with air, and a tent ground cover. This strange looking but effective sling kept her arm immobilized while she walked nearly a mile on the trail to get to the pickup point.
Soon we saw a glint of light way down in the valley. A few minutes later an ATV was spotted coming up the hill, followed by a 4x4 Tahoe. The Carter County Search and Rescue team had arrived.
They quickly picked up Cathie and Andy and headed back down the way they came. In seconds it was done. Cristina, Laura and I were in shock, but we had agreed to keep going. Sending the whole team down would have burdened the rescuers and would have contributed to logistical problems once off the trail. The easiest thing to do was to keep moving forward and finish the hike to Damascus. Once there we could all regroup and see what was next.
Cathie was simply amazing. The pictures tell the story, showing her with a smile on her face even though she was in intense pain. She first offered to head down alone with the rescuers to not disrupt Andy's hike, but anyone who has ever been to an ER with a serious injury eventually appreciates someone with them. It also allowed for a healthy person to carry her stuff, and to drive the car to get her back to Damascus. At one point at camp she was even insisting that she be allowed to carry her pack, a request that of course was ignored and Andy carried her gear to the pickup point.
We hiked on, down to three people in our team. As we pushed on that day it was nerve-wracking, wondering about Cathie and deciding whether or not to bail out at the next road. We were also relieved at the relative ease which we had evacuated Cathie to a hospital. One minute we are in crisis mode, the next minute she is gone, safely in the hands of professional rescuers.
That alone requires comment -- relative ease. She fell around 8:30 at night and got pulled off the mountain about 11:00 the next day. That is 14 1/2 hours with not much treatment other than some slings and a handful of pain medicines. She had to walk close to a mile to get to the evac point.
That is life in the wilderness. The nearest road was close to 5 miles hiking on rough terrain. The trail was on a steep ridge, so bushwhacking down would have been difficult, if not impossible. We had some modern tools, such as our cell phones. Plus this is an eastern trail near people, so we had the powerline access trail for the vehicles. We also found out later that nearby Iron Mountain Shelter was accessible by vehicle. Even with all that, we were pretty much on our own that night. Of course a more severe problem or a medical emergency would have prompted a more aggressive response by local officials. We were not in a dire emergency, but I would imagine it would have taken a number of hours to get someone up that hill in the best of responses. That really makes me think about the possibilities, but that is why I train hard and constantly evaluate my capabilities. I am still in this game ... and so is Cathie.
A quick break to stake out a tent spot and we decided to fetch water before it got too dark. A smooth, gentle downhill path led to a brisk stream with clean water. One by one we secured our water collection gear and headed out. Suddenly I heard a crashing noise in the brush, and a shout of pain. Someone had fallen! I hurried down the path to find Cathie on the ground and Andy starting an assessment. We all fall now and again on these trails, little did we know at the time how serious it was. I helped out for a minute and gave Andy some EMT tips but figured it was just a bump or strain. Once she sat up, it started to develop into something far more serious.
A primary assessment revealed that she could not move her right arm, I palpated the elbow and noted that is appeared to be dislocated. Circulation, sensation and motor skills were OK, so she cradled her arm and with Andy's help worked her way back to camp. I quickly headed to the stream to tank up on water (an exhausted dehydrated spacy medic would not have contributed much to the cause) and scurried back to camp. A better secondary exam performed by Andy and myself revealed that the damage to Cathie was limited to her arm, no other injuries and thankfully she did not hit her head when she fell. I could not tell if anything was broken, but the dislocation was apparent from her limited range of motion.
Andy and Cristina fashioned a sling out of assorted bedclothes (including I think some elastic long underwear) while I tried 911 on my phone. We had cellular service at this campsite, and thankfully we all had mostly charged phones. I did not expect much from 911, and once I described a non-critical patient they advised that we needed to hike out in the morning. If anything changed, I was to call back, but with night coming on they were not going to mount a rescue for a dislocated elbow on a mobile, conscious, and otherwise healthy patient.
Together we formed quite a team. Andy was the primary caretaker and did an excellent job. I was advisory medic and worked on locating Kenny (who had hiked on ahead after Wataugu Lake but was in a better spot to perhaps secure a vehicle), Cristina became the nurse, assisting Cathie with changing and getting comfortable, and Laura phoned an emergency room doctor.
The doctor talked to Cathie and reviewed her medical history and prescriptions, then we all listed what medications we had brought with us, and the doctor pulled together a plan for what to give Cathie to safely help alleviate her pain.
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| Andy and Cathie working on the travel sling |
Cathie ate some dinner and we carefully tucked her away in her tent, where she spent a long, sleepless night. The next morning Andy called the National Forest Service, who agreed to arrange for Carter Co EMS to send a team up to meet us by the power lines we had passed the night before.
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| Cathie and Cristina finishing up the sling |
A better sling was fashioned from a water bladder that was partially inflated with air, and a tent ground cover. This strange looking but effective sling kept her arm immobilized while she walked nearly a mile on the trail to get to the pickup point.
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| Looking down the valley where the rescue vehicle came up |
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| Cathie and her ground cover sling |
Soon we saw a glint of light way down in the valley. A few minutes later an ATV was spotted coming up the hill, followed by a 4x4 Tahoe. The Carter County Search and Rescue team had arrived.
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| Search and Rescue |
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| Carter Co Search and Rescue |
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| S&R, Cathie, Laura, Cristina |
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| Pulling around to pick up Cathie and Andy |
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| The powerlines |
They quickly picked up Cathie and Andy and headed back down the way they came. In seconds it was done. Cristina, Laura and I were in shock, but we had agreed to keep going. Sending the whole team down would have burdened the rescuers and would have contributed to logistical problems once off the trail. The easiest thing to do was to keep moving forward and finish the hike to Damascus. Once there we could all regroup and see what was next.
Cathie was simply amazing. The pictures tell the story, showing her with a smile on her face even though she was in intense pain. She first offered to head down alone with the rescuers to not disrupt Andy's hike, but anyone who has ever been to an ER with a serious injury eventually appreciates someone with them. It also allowed for a healthy person to carry her stuff, and to drive the car to get her back to Damascus. At one point at camp she was even insisting that she be allowed to carry her pack, a request that of course was ignored and Andy carried her gear to the pickup point.
We hiked on, down to three people in our team. As we pushed on that day it was nerve-wracking, wondering about Cathie and deciding whether or not to bail out at the next road. We were also relieved at the relative ease which we had evacuated Cathie to a hospital. One minute we are in crisis mode, the next minute she is gone, safely in the hands of professional rescuers.
That alone requires comment -- relative ease. She fell around 8:30 at night and got pulled off the mountain about 11:00 the next day. That is 14 1/2 hours with not much treatment other than some slings and a handful of pain medicines. She had to walk close to a mile to get to the evac point.
That is life in the wilderness. The nearest road was close to 5 miles hiking on rough terrain. The trail was on a steep ridge, so bushwhacking down would have been difficult, if not impossible. We had some modern tools, such as our cell phones. Plus this is an eastern trail near people, so we had the powerline access trail for the vehicles. We also found out later that nearby Iron Mountain Shelter was accessible by vehicle. Even with all that, we were pretty much on our own that night. Of course a more severe problem or a medical emergency would have prompted a more aggressive response by local officials. We were not in a dire emergency, but I would imagine it would have taken a number of hours to get someone up that hill in the best of responses. That really makes me think about the possibilities, but that is why I train hard and constantly evaluate my capabilities. I am still in this game ... and so is Cathie.
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