The saga of the knee
The howling wind was unrelenting last night. Whistling through the trees above like a tea kettle. Fortunately, not a single shake of the tent. The trees were taking all the brunt of the wind. So thank you trees.
I woke up to a beautiful sunrise, and started cooking breakfast from my tent. Halfway through my meal I hear someone holler real loud. Slightly startled, I turned around and saw two hikes reach the summit. It’s 6:30!
One quickly noticed my white tent and walked over, it was 12 Pack! I met him, and the entourage to follow, at Doc Campbells way back when (it seems). A few minutes later, the rest of their crew summit, and they all quickly pile up with their sleeping bags to get warm and take a break, and maybe a nap; apparently they started at 5am. With my stuff packed up, I hollered over to them and was in my way.
Maybe the meds I took, maybe the rest, but my knee wasn’t bothering me much, even as I descended down the mountain. Don’t get me wrong, I noticed it’s pesky existence, but I wasn’t hobbling quite to the extend as last night. Even as I slipped through the bit of snow in the northern side, I was a okay.
The trail winded down the side of the mountain, then back up another little hump where there was a lookout tower and a bunch of radio equipment. Pretty much dirt road most the ways.
About six miles into the day (and possibly when the meds wore off) the knee started to scream again. Flat, up, down, didn’t matter. Got to the point where every step was a limp. I tried using my trekking poles to stabilize myself, but it only did so much.
With only about one more mile until the water source I desperately needed, I pushed on. The trail to the water was about a quarter mile off trail on a cow trail through the forest. Essentially, I had to wobble over logs and rocks and with each bend of the knee I yowled in pain. It wasn’t pleasant.
I got to the water, chugged a liter, and filled my bladder. Then I say there, for a while, contemplating next steps, all whilst rolling out the knee, massaging it, lighting sage to ward off the bad spirits (okay maybe not that part, but I would have if I had any), anything I could do to try to alleviate the pain.
Looking at the map, and there was a more “major” dirt road about five miles ahead. I had already seen a few cars today, so was beginning to contemplate a removal from trail. I’d give it a little longer and see what happens.
A few miles on the dirt road, slightly hobbling, and the knee began to work itself out. The benefit to being on a dirt road is there aren’t many instructions (most the time) and I don’t have to bend the knee much. Soon, I was cruising with pretty much no pain. Yay!
Then the trail turned off the road and onto an actual trail. I figured this would be the real test. Ups and downs, skinny path ways with many obstacles. Who knows. But hey, I’ll give it a shot.
Ouch, times 10. I could barely bend my knee about a mile in. Stiff legging my walk and trying to not bend it as much as possible, I pushed on to get to the road with thoughts of Grants for another couple days. It was only noon by the time I got to the dirt road, and occasionally close to tears, or possible vomiting from the pain, I felt I needed to get off the trail.
A couple cars rolled by, but I didn’t feel the love, and wanted to keep massaging the knee. As I rubbed it, and bent my knee, that stretched rubber feeling was present. Never a great sign. But I kept at it, and eventually I was able to bend it without that awful rubber feeling.
I looked ahead on the map, and it’s all road. So after about half hour of massaging I felt ready to walk a little more. With a slight hobble, but noticeably less, I continued on until I saw another car. The fellas rolled up to me, and the driver said “you, sir, have my admiration, you’re quite far from everything”. Little did he know, I was about to ask him for a ride into town. However, with his little bit of inspiration, I decided I rather push it to Cuba rather than go back to Grants. Worst case, I’ll take an extra day, which I have the food for (always carry an extra day). With nearly 15 miles on the day already, I’d only have to push another 5 to make sure I got to Cuba with the food I had.
Welp, it was flat, smooth dirt road... for the next 13 miles. Yep. I ended up doing 28 miles. I took a couple breaks to massage the knee and keep it in working order. But the number part was there was basically no water.
I passed a source, but it was a 60 foot climb down some jagged rocks. Walking over to inspect it, and up and over the rocks just to that point, made my knee scream once again.
I checked my water, two liters left. There is a reliable source about 7.5 miles from there, and I felt it was safer to not try and climb with my knee in its current state. So I passed up the water and continued on.
As it was already 4:30, I wouldn’t have made the water source until close to 7. So once again, I decided to do a dry camp. I’d hike for another hour, hour and a half to make my way closer, but it’s still no fun camping without free flowing water.
Once I got to camp, my knee started getting sore again. A good sign it was indeed time to stop. I made dinner, and chugged as little water as I could, but ended up needing more than anticipated. Now I’ve got half a liter to last me three miles, which isn’t ideal, but doable. Just a bummer I can’t make coffee or oatmeal in the morning. Unless I got with two sips of water for three miles. TBD. Will see how I feel in the morning.
The extra bummer part? The water is about a 10 minute hike off trail (about half mile). So it’s not going to be particularly fun, and a bit time consuming. But with a fresh leg in the morning, I’m hoping it won’t cause much of a problem. Another bummer is that with yesterday’s 21 miles, I sit 58 miles from Cuba. I.e. 29 miles per day. I did 28 today with a bum knee. The trail veers off back onto a trail when I hit the water, so who knows if I’ll be able to make 29 miles for two consecutive days. But I’ll try!
