Day 46 - Inglorious Ending!!! — Walking People Out of Poverty

May 31st

Depart Mile 800.9

Arrive Mile 810 (or thereabouts).

Last night I camped in an area that I discovered about 1/5 of a mile back from a creek that had stopped my progress in moving forward. This was particularly frustrating as I was only 1 1/2 miles from camp. The creek had been tumbling down the mountain and there was no safe place to cross that I could find, and so I spent the best part of almost 2 hours waiting for someone to arrive. This is both the safest and smartest course of action to take, as going it alone is dangerous and foolhardy.

Eventually a group of four arrived, two men and two women, and after much deliberation it was decided to cross early in the morning, and I led the way back to the camping area I had found. The following morning we arrived back at the creek at 5 am and everyone changed into their sandals and made sure their shoes were strapped tightly to their packs. One of the guys was first across, followed by a woman in her late 20’s, who was the youngest in the team and then it was my turn. I stepped confidently into the rushing water and shortly after scrambled onto the far bank. Initially the water was cool but it became downright cold by the time I had climbed to safety. Everyone made it across without incident and the big debate was could we have made it last night? Still, it is what is, or should that be it was what it was? We all sat down, dried our feet and changed back into our hiking shoes and set out.

The walking, much like the day before, was pleasant as we followed the trail which ran parallel with the river, and which was gaining in elevation with every step as we forged our way up the valley. Eventually the trail veered left, away from the river, and I caught up with my original group just as they were leaving their campsite. I stopped to thank the group who I had spent the previous few hours with, and for allowing me to cross the creek with them, and then I struck out after Scientist, Scarecrow, Rat and a couple of hikers who I didn’t know. On hindsight I should probably have stayed with the previous group as they were a lot slower than my original team, who quickly disappeared out of sight. On hindsight I’m thinking they might have been confused, by thinking I was going to walk with the slower team.

The climb wasn’t too bad until I started hitting the snow and eventually I had to stop and throw on my Kahtoola’s (spikes). The walking was pretty good but that’s because it was early in the day, somewhere between 8 and 9, and the snow was still hard and compact. Eventually I was within about a 1/4 mile of the top of the pass and facing the most difficult part of the trail. It was steep and I was having to place my feet in deep post holes, and, due to the drop away to my right, I was leaning in towards the hill. It was time consuming and excruciatingly slow but I finally reached the last section and pushed on to the top. I had “conquered” the 2nd of my 12,000 foot climbs, (give or take about 50 feet), and was ecstatic. The wind was howling so I took a couple of photos, one showing where I had come from, and turned to take one of where I was going, and then started the long climb down to the valley floor. Again my progress was excellent as I strode confidently down the mountain but this was about to change once I reached lower levels. At one point I started to slide downhill, such were the snow conditions, and even with spikes I was having difficulty gaining traction. The next several hours were spent “fumbling” around as I struggled through deep snow finding and then losing the elusive trail. Finally, shortly after 11 am, I decided I needed to have a break, (remember I had been up since 4 am, and walking since 5 am), as all I had eaten was a Larabar when I first got up. Conditions weren’t ideal but I desperately needed to let my body rest. I made a cup of coffee and ate a bag of oatmeal, and 30 minutes later I was back on the trail. Whilst I rested I looked at one of my PCT apps and figured it had taken around 5 hours to walk 6 miles such were the conditions.

The break I took was much needed and allowed both body and spirit time to recover and so I set off with fresh enthusiasm. I quickly found the trail and initially made good progress but it soon became a game of hide and seek as the path started to elude me again. This went on all afternoon. At one point I saw two of the group that I had started the day with but they soon disappeared. As the afternoon wore on I found myself walking downhill by the river looking for a place to cross. My app was telling me the trail lay on the other side. The river was only 2-3 paces wide but it was swift and looked a little too deep for my liking. All of a sudden it happened and the next thing I knew I was in deep trouble. I had stepped forward with my right foot, onto a large piece of granite, however I could not see the large crack covered by the snow. My foot went down between the two pieces of granite, one of which tore through my skin like a hot knife through butter. I’m extremely squeamish and one quick glance was enough to tell me I needed to be rescued as soon as possible. I threw my backpack to the ground and pulled out my Spot, which is my emergency rescue device, uncovered the SOS button and pressed the switch. This set in motion the search for a satellite to send the signal that I needed help. Spot’s claim to fame is that you will be rescued within two hours and so I settled down to wait.

After hitting the SOS the next thing I did was grab a large handful of snow, in my left hand, which I placed on my wound and held there. During the first hour I had to change the primitive dressing a couple of times, whilst at the same time cursing my luck! After an hour or so it dawned on me that sitting on the snow so close to the river was not a great idea, and so I dragged myself up the hill and pulled my bag behind me. I found some rocks to sit on which were a lot drier and certainly more comfortable than sitting in the snow and settled down to wait for my rescue.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, I heard the familiar “whoop, whoop, whoop” of the helicopters rotors as it came swooping over the mountain tops and they passed right over the top of me and disappeared from view. Before I could feel panicked they reappeared and when they did I was ready. I had one of my orange tee shirts handy and started to wave it furiously. Unfortunately this tactic didn’t work and the helicopter moved out of sight again. I should add that about 20 minutes before the helicopter appeared I had started to feel chilled even though I was wearing my black Patagonia jacket which had been attracting the strong sunlight, and which had kept me perfectly warm up until now. However I knew there would be a point when the shock of my injury would set in, and so I retrieved the sleeping bag from the top of my pack. I had been walking in wet shoes and socks for the best part of the day, and now was the perfect time to take them off. Why I didn’t do this earlier I don’t know, I suspect with the injury that I had my mind on other things! It was wonderful to climb into the sleeping bag and my only regret was not being able to lie down and rest my weary head. With hindsight that was probably just as well! I now resolved myself to take swift and decisive action if the helicopter came back, and this new plan was about to be tested.

The helicopter appeared for a third time and I was out of the bag in a flash, and I stood and waved the blue sleeping as if my life depended on it. Who knows, I’m different circumstances it very well may have! This time the helicopter saw me and started to angle out of the deep blue sky towards my location. Finally my salvation was at hand and I was never more happy to see someone as the folks who had come to rescue me. As the helicopter was landing I set about stuffing the sleeping bag into its container, and gathering my stuff together. I completely forgot about my wound. I should add that as I was being treated a hiker appeared out of the trees on the other side of the river and it’s a crying shame that I was so close to the trail and yet so far. After answering a few questions and having my wound dressed I was able to walk, unassisted, to the helicopter and a short time later we took off.

The scenery was breathtaking and the journey took a good 20-25 minutes before we touched down at the base where the Sequoia Parks Conservancy Search and Rescue are stationed. It is at this point that I would like to offer up a huge thank you to Van, who was my medic, PJ, who was the helicopter manager and pilot Jordan. Words can never adequately express my appreciation for the care and attention they provided.

At base I was provided a phone, so I could phone Liz and put her mind at rest, as I know she would have been worrying about me and if my injuries were serious or not. Then I was given a drink and asked if I needed anything, which I didn’t. I set about clearing out my backpack and started by ditching my water bottles. I then opened my bear canister and gave the staff the 4-5 bags of trail mix and Larabars that I would no longer require. I was trying to lighten my load because of my injury, and so ditched as much as I could.

The ambulance that was supposed to be picking me up, for the next leg of my journey to the hospital, was lost and couldn’t find the base which I, and all the staff, thought was quite funny. It would take an hour before they would arrive but I was finally on my way. I was being transferred to a town of 60,000 residents called Visalia, (I can honestly say I had never heard of it), and the drive took about an hour or so, and I think it was like 8:30 pm when we arrived. After a long wait of over 2 1/2 hours I was finally led into the inner sanctum of the hospital where I was attended by a young woman, Dr. Schrodt, who was ably assisted by a young fellow by the name of Conrad Bacani. There was a fair bit of waiting around but I was being well looked after and was given a sandwich, (I hadn’t eaten since breakfast and was ravenous), a chocolate pudding and Sprite which were quickly devoured!

Finally the time arrived for my wound to be treated and Dr. Schrodt began by freezing my leg with 4 injections. The first part of my treatment involved a thorough irrigation and cleaning of my injury followed by a number of internal stitches, which I was told would be self absorbing. The wound was then closed with 11 external stitches and a dressing applied. Finally, at around 1:30 am I was discharged and stepped out into the warm, early California morning. Conrad had mapped out the route to my accommodation on my I-Phone and I began the 4 block walk. I checked into my hotel at about 1:45am and finally rolled into bed at about 2am.

As with the day I walked 36 miles I was over tired and ended up having a restless night and was up by 6:30am. I noticed a pool of blood in the bed and my wound was weeping, which meant another trip back to the hospital, but first I needed to eat and headed down for breakfast. I then headed back to the hospital and endured another 2 hour wait before my dressing was changed. From the hospital I then headed to find a real cup of coffee and discovered an excellent spot where I indulged my passion for a really good cup of joe! At the same time I ordered a chicken wrap which was excellent.

I’m creating this blog a week after returning home and can tell you that I’m constantly eating, such is the toll on the body after walking constantly for 7 weeks and covering a distance that exceeds 800 miles!! After lunch I noticed my dressing had slipped down my leg to reveal my injury so I needed to return to the hospital again! Fortunately a lady, and her daughter, were leaving the restaurant and kindly offered me a ride which I eagerly accepted. Every time I visited the hospital I had to fill out paperwork, and after doing so, for a third time, the admittance person told me to take a seat and she changed the dressing and I was out of there within 10 minutes of arriving.

I now returned to my hotel to do laundry and get packed up, as on my visit to the hospital, after breakfast earlier, I was advised to return to Canada, as soon as possible, to seek treatment. I finally checked out at around 4:30pm and took an UBER to the Best Western Plus which is located right across from Fresno Yosemite International Airport for my last nights sleep on US soil.

Footnote.

Although my trip ended prematurely I did ask the doctors if I could go back on the trail. My request was met with a resounding NO! I have therefore committed to returning to the valley, where my accident occurred, next year to resume Walking People out of Poverty. In conjunction with the 3-4 people who are committed to joining me we will plan accordingly. This way we can eliminate going when there’s snow in the valley’s and hopefully time it in the dry season. However, as we did on this first leg, we will take whatever the weather gods throw at us.

In closing I would add that the trip I have undertaken is far and away the hardest, most difficult and challenging venture I have ever done and no words can adequately describe the hardships I faced. Having said that I should add that it was also the most rewarding and satisfying experience of my life and I cannot wait to return next year.

PS, please check in regularly as I do intend to add all of the posts that came after Hiker Heaven Here We Come right up until this Inglorious Ending blog.