Bench Lake Ranger Station to home…

The morning was very surreal. I heard Omar get up at our normal early hour, but I stayed in my tent. I didn’t need the time to pack up. The trail workers would be back around 8am to reassess and the call for a helicopter if it was still necessary. Since we’d stopped a couple miles short of our original goal, Omar needed the early start to catch up and get back on track if he was still going to finish on time. We’d discussed how he was going to get home after finishing, since my dad was originally going to come and get us from Whitney Portal. After everything Omar had done for me during this trip, the least I could do was drive down and get him! Assuming there wasn’t something so horrifically wrong with my feet that I was put in casts or unable to drive. In which case I would prevail upon my dad’s good nature and convince him to still go down and pick him up!

Every night on the trail, we did a video blog on Omar’s gopro. The night before we hadn’t, so we did this morning. It opened the flood gates all over again, having to explain the decision to leave the JMT. I wasn’t the only one visibly upset – Omar started to talk, and then got too choked up and passed the camera to me – like I was going to be any better off! We finished up our video blog entry, and parted ways. It was really strange to watch him walk off, and still have my tent set up, and me just standing there. I felt like I’d lost my purpose. I didn’t need to be the map person anymore. I was no longer our chef. I didn’t need to filter water anymore for either of us. I wasn’t the photographer. I wasn’t even a thru-hiker anymore. Now I’d moved onto a section hiker. There’s nothing wrong with that, I’m a firm believer in ‘hike your own hike’ and there isn’t necessarily more ‘glory’ in finishing it in one pass (okay, maybe a little more glory), but I planned on being a thru-hiker. I even had plans on how to commemorate the achievement, which will now need to be put on hold for a while.

So, after Omar was out of sight, I turned around and started packing up my stuff for the last time. It’s funny, when we were on the trail, I always felt like I was so slow, and we were always so rushed to break down camp. I’m sure I took the same amount of time to break down, but it felt like I had moved at lightning speed and now had AGES to kill before the trail workers would meet up with me. Then I noticed it. I had given Omar all the food to take with him, and the pot, stove and fuel I’d been carrying so he could eat for the last few days. Well….he forgot the fuel. So I yelled out to him, but since I’d waited till he was out of sight before packing up my stuff, he was long gone. I walked across the meadow, unsure of where the trail actually led, and yelled again. No luck. Well, he’s a resourceful guy – he would either have to barter for fuel or make friends! Nothing I could do about it now, and he had plenty of food that didn’t need to be cooked, but I knew it would absolutely crush him to know he was carrying lasagna and not have a way to cook it!

Now I had a little over an hour to wait….and that was assuming that the guys would be on time, since they needed to hike uphill about a mile or mile and a half to get to my location. The sun hadn’t really hit the station yet, and I realized for the first time the whole trip that I was cold during the day. Because I wasn’t moving at all! So for the first time the ENTIRE TRIP, I pulled out my down jacket. Until now, it had stayed snug in my dry bag, acting as my pillow. I wasn’t supposed to be moving on my foot, it still hurt a lot, but not quite as bad without any pack weight on it. So I walked several yards across the meadow to find a rock to sit on in the sun, and kept creeping back towards the station as the sun got higher and higher in the sky. I took the opportunity to do something I hadn’t had the chance to do until this point. Be still and just watch nature wake up. Listening as the meadow moved from total silence to birds chirping and flying overhead. Watching rabbits scurry across the field, a couple of deer creeping out from further downhill to graze on some of the grass, and listening to the river across the meadow. It was very relaxing, and gave me a little sense of peace even though I was starting to get nervous about what may or may not have been wrong with my feet.

Once back on the platform that makes up the Bench Lake Ranger station, I still had plenty of time to kill. So, I figured that eventually, someone would need my medical information. so I got my journal out, tore out a couple pages, and got to work. I used to want to be a doctor, and took a wilderness first aid class, so was familiar with what information they might find most valuable. I was also really glad I had thought to bring not only my driver’s license, but my insurance card as well! One less thing to worry about.

Dan, Tim and Cedric made it back up to camp around 8:30, and got to work with arranging for a helicopter. Dan, the group’s boss, stayed with me, giving me some instructions on what would happen once the helicopter arrived. I’ve taken two helicopter rides before this, but as a tourist. So I was surprised to learn that I needed to put on a flight suit, boots, etc. While we waited, I got a chance to learn about Dan and his crew – how many years they’d been doing trail work, how it works, all that wonderful stuff. Both Tim and Cedric were EMTs, and Tim had shown extra concern when I’d said I had problems with foot pain – Dan filled me in as to why that was. Apparently, some seasons ago, Tim had helped a family with a child that complained of foot pain. The following day, the child passed away. I wasn’t given any other details, but I immediately understood why he would have taken such a keen interest in my injury!

I heard the helicopter long before I saw it. Dan introduced me to the medical assistant that would be helping me during the flight. I sadly forget her name – it was pretty much in one ear and out the other. Although Dan introduced her as his favorite radio contact, so that was reassuring! The flight wasn’t bad – a little rockier than my other two rides, probably because it was so small, not designed for comfort or tourist trips! It was strange to cover so much ground so quickly – heading back north and west to get to a ranger outpost and the waiting ambulance. It was weird to watch the transition from mountains, to mountains with fire roads, then paved roads, then major roads winding through valleys, then finally actual buildings, civilization, and the haze that sometimes forms back in the valleys.

The ambulance ride was long and uneventful – the medics were great. The woman riding in the back with me was astounded when I told her the gurney was the most comfortable thing I’d sad on in over two weeks. I guess she’d never brought someone to the hospital from the wilderness! We talked about what I’d been doing, and said she’d love to take her son hiking, except for his big fear that might get in the way. I was prepared for snakes, bugs, birds……but no. Something much deadlier. Leaves. Yes, leaves. Her kid is TERRIFIED of leaves, especially the falling variety! I couldn’t help but laugh, although I feel really bad if that’s more than a phase that kid doesn’t grow out of!

We finally arrived at Kaweah Hospital in Visalia. Since I definitely wasn’t an emergency, I got to hang tight for a little while. My dad wasn’t there yet, either, so no rush. I had my consult with a doctor, a set of x-rays taken, and then more waiting for the doctor to come back with the results. I was offered a sandwich, but I declined. No, when my dad came and got me, I didn’t want to waste my first meal back on hospital food. It needed to be pizza all the way!

When the doctor came back, she showed me the x-rays. She pointed out two blurry spots on my left foot, and one on my right. Those were stress fractures. I had two stress fractures on my left foot, and one on my right. They’re tough to see on x-rays and are apparently the most visible after they’ve already healed, so all it looked like was a little blurry spot. I smiled and said ‘thank goodness’, and got a really puzzled look in response. I explained that after all the excitement of having to be evacuated from the JMT via helicopter, take an ambulance ride into Visalia, drag my dad down to pick me up, probably cause my parents heart attacks, and make Omar finish the trip on his own, I certainly didn’t want to get to the hospital and hear ‘oh, you have sore feet, no big deal’. At least hearing that I’d been walking on broken feet (maybe not as dramatic as a ‘real’ break, but something legitimate!) for several days justified my decision to leave the trail. I was still disappointed, but I was officially OK with my decision. Right after diagnosis, dad came into the room! I was sure I was a stinky, dirty mess, but thankfully he was still willing to let me in the car without having to hose me down first! We went and had some delicious pizza then made the long drive back to Alameda. When we stopped for gas, I went into the store to get something to drink and I noticed several things. One – how strange it was to be in such a confined space. I had just been in a hospital but I was more focused on my foot than my surroundings. Two – the bottled water I bought (Dasani, my favorite), tasted HORRID. I literally made a face at it because my dad asked what was wrong. Water was ruined for me. Nothing would be as delicious as mountain water. Hopefully that feeling would go away with time, or I was going to be a very thirsty person! Three – the wonders of air conditioning! It was nice to be able to immediately escape the heat by some method other than finding a shady spot.

Driving was strange too, but that came back and felt normal quickly enough. Once home, mom and dad took me out for Mexican, the next meal on my ‘must have’ list upon returning to civilization. Going to sleep that night, showered, clean, full stomach, I wondered if Omar had made it where he was supposed to. I wasn’t tired – I hadn’t put in the type of work my body had become used to. And my bed was far too comfortable. More than once I thought about sleeping on the floor. And it was too stuffy in the room. I have always slept ‘hot’ so there were only 2 nights on the JMT that I actually felt uncomfortably cold. But tonight it was just hot and stuffy. There wasn’t a high alpine wind ripping through the tent, or at least moving air. It was just stagnant and….indoor air. Something else I would hopefully readjust to now that I was back!

What an adventure….it was time to rest and relax and count the days until driving down to Whitney Portal to pick up Omar. Another moment that was sure to be bittersweet as I stared directly at my goal.