Santa Fe Paddle: Can I Do Anything?

The next few months were a whirlwind of physical therapy, gym time, shopping, beach, and relaxing with my old high school friends. The most I exerted myself was bouncing between running and abs sessions at the gym and weights at physical therapy. I slowly regained my range of motion and started building up strength with weight training. By the time I returned to Gainesville, I was beyond ready to go on an OAR trip. The first trip of the semester was a paddle on the Santa Fe. I thought this would be the perfect way to ease back into adventure: if I couldn't paddle, the rest of my boat would take up the slack and I wouldn't have to carry any gear. It was also only a day trip so I was free to do whatever I wanted for the rest of the weekend.

My boat consisted of Michael, Carolanne, and Brice. We headed downstream, stopping of at countless springs to swim. We met Naked Ed, the legendary keeper of Lily Springs. I chose not to talk to him and therefore did not see any nakedness. Naked Ed is an old man who sits on a dock in front of the spring, completely naked, virtually every day. We played with a giant inflatable ball on the shore (away from Ed) and then headed further downstream. The wildlife was incredible; I don't think I've ever seen that many turtles in my entire life. We made it down in record time with two other boats. The others were about an hour behind, so we decided to leave for dinner and Gainesville, returning with some daylight still left.

Events occurred: August 24, 2013

Grand Tetons Part Seven: The Drive Home

The drive home was long and exhausting. We drove straight from Boulder to Missouri, with plans to stay at Liana's house near Fort Leonard Wood. She had no idea that Mike was with us so we decided to keep it a secret and surprise her. We convinced our other friend, Anna, to also come surprise Liana and met up with her just outside of Liana's neighborhood. Mike hopped in her car and they followed us. Logel and I emerged first and then a few minutes later, Mike and Anna pulled up. She was so excited that she jumped and screamed, leaping toward us eagerly. Soon thereafter, the five of us piled in Liana's car and went to buy some fireworks. We headed to an empty field to set them off. I am not much of a fireworks person. I like them in theory and I like them from a safe distance but setting them off freaks me out. Rather, I ran around with sparklers and danced in the darkness.

The next morning when we woke up, Anna had already returned home and Liana had already headed to base. We started another lengthy drive to Chattanooga. Logel drove most of the way while I was sprawled out in the back seat, wrapped in my fuzzy purple blanket. Mike commandeered it at one point so he could work on his computer without the harsh glare from the sun. When we arrived in Chattanooga, we dropped Logel off at his brother's and headed down to Sandy Springs, GA, just north of Atlanta. We stayed with Mike's aunt and uncle, who were very hospitable and generous. We were greeted with food, showers, and warm beds to sleep in. We woke up early the next morning and sped home. I made it back to Jacksonville with an hour to spare until my doctor appointment. The drive was mostly uneventful, hours of music peppered with random conversations. I was just glad to be home to start the healing process.

Events occurred: July 1-2, 2013

Grand Teton Part Six: Boulder and a Birthday

The next morning, we all woke up and started packing the car for the long drive home. At this point, we weren't exactly sure how it was going to shake out. Since it was my car that we had brought, I definitely knew that I was going home with my car. Logel was looking at cheap flights from Denver to Chattanooga, hopeful that he could send me home with Mike and still have some time in Colorado for himself. Mike was also looking at flights from Florida (Gainesville and Jacksonville) back to Colorado, since he had a flight from Denver to Albany booked on the 8th of July. There was also talk of my mom flying out to Wyoming or Colorado to drive me home because flying me back sans car was not an option. We drove down to Boulder to stay with some family friends, who coincidentally lived in the same neighborhood as Rachel, the Flatirons in their backyard. We arrived at night and the Inghams were kind enough to feed us. We then decided to meet Logel's friend Cole in Denver that night.

I was exhausted and full of painkillers for all of Colorado but I still had a pretty good time. We met Cole at a local microbrewery and sat outside on the patio, since I'm not yet 21. After that, we drove to a speakeasy that Cole had gotten us on the list for. It was so cool. In order to get in, you had to get on a list hours in advance. Then, they text you when there is room available and you have ten minutes to get there before they give away your spot, eliminating lines and hassle. It looked like a bookstore from the outside but this was just a front. As we walked in, the bouncer was passing notes through books. He noticed my sling and asked me about my injury, exchanging adventure mishap stories with me. They let us in the back and the book shelf swung open to reveal a restaurant and bar, styled like a 1920's saloon. The guys ordered fancy cocktails while I sipped away at my water, too young and too medicated. After that, they split a pizza at a nearby late-night pizza place and we headed back to Boulder.

The next day was Mike's 23rd birthday and I was much more enthusiastic about celebrating than he was. Logel and I took him out to brunch and then the three of us wandered around a few different outfitters in the area. Unfortunately, it was raining so our plans to hike in the Flatirons didn't come to fruition. We returned to the Inghams and relaxed. That late afternoon/early evening, Cole texted Logel and invited us all to come to a barbecue restaurant where he worked and his sister was the manager. Commence gluttony. We sat out on the porch upstairs, just us, Cole's girlfriend, his sister's boyfriend, and a rotating group of waiters and waitresses from the restaurant. The amount of food we ordered was obscene. Every type of meat imaginable with dessert on top of that. The dessert was incredible, a huge cookie sundae. When we got the bill, it had been reduced from over $100 to less than $40 and I was happy to chip in my portion and left a generous tip as well. Then, we went to Cole's place with him and his girlfriend and took over the neighborhood's hot tub for about an hour. The steaming water felt great against my shoulder. I think we all needed a hefty dose of relaxation after the stress of our trip. We then made it back the Inghams, gearing up for the rest of the car ride. 

Events occurred: June 29-30, 2013

Grand Teton Adventure Part Five: Exploring Jackson Hole

Though Mike and Logel had originally planned to leave me at the campground and go back to summit the Grand, I woke up after 7 to see them still with me. They realized I was in too much pain to be left isolated like that and we spent the day running around, filling my prescriptions and scheduling my orthopedic appointment for the following day. My parents, obviously in a panic with their youngest child off in the mountains injured, hunted down a hotel room for us in town, which my grandparents graciously paid for. As soon as we hit the hotel room, the three of us took turns showering and collapsing on the beds, enjoying the internet and air conditioning. 

The next morning, they woke up at 2 AM and headed back toward the mountains. They told me that they would be returning around 4 or 5 PM, so I checked out of the hotel and headed to my doctor appointment. Luckily, the hotel let me leave a majority of my stuff at the front desk so I didn't have to drag it all around. At this point, I was wearing a sling that I had gotten at the ER. My doctor at Teton Orthopedic was awesome. He brought me images of a normal shoulder and compared them to my x-ray, informing me that I had a stage 3 acromioclavicular tear. I spent at least 3 hours practicing how to say it so I wouldn't forget. Essentially, I tore my shoulder near my clavicle and I would be out of commission for a while. The doctor recommended that I return home as soon as I could, which I wasn't very enthusiastic about. Unfortunately for the guys, who had to deal with me through all this, I was alternating between loopy on medication and hysterical off medication. My dosage of painkillers was upped even further, alternating between 800 mg of Ibuprofen and 1000 mg of Tylenol every two hours and it was very obvious when one was about to wear off. I was barely getting through the day without it. While waiting for Mike and Logel, I wandered into every store in Jackson Hole within walking distance of the hospital and I also checked out several cafes. I went to the park to sit and read where I ran into a group of students on some sort of religious trip together. They were extremely nice and they talked to me about my injuries and about my connection with God pre and post fall. I spent about three hours with them before continuing to wander around. I also updated my mom about my injury and talked to my pediatric orthopedist, who recommended some adult orthopedists in Jacksonville for my return home.  

Around 6 PM or so, I was starting to freak out. I hadn't heard anything from Mike or Logel and my mind went to the darkest places, assuming they had fallen tragically to their deaths or been eaten by bears. I was on the phone with my mom for several hours, practically sobbing into the phone that something awful must have happened when she finally told me to get another night at the hotel, shower, and go to sleep. I eventually did this and texted the guys multiple times with no avail. I was really upset, worried sick that something had happened. I finally got a call from Mike around 10 or 11 PM that they were headed back and they returned around midnight. Everything was fine, it had just taken longer than anticipated and hey both apologized. I settled into bed and drifted off to sleep while they made plans for the next day to start heading home again. 

Grand Teton Adventure Part Four: No More Adventure for Me

The next morning, Logel decided to run down, sans gear, to the car and the Ranger Station with two goals in mind: 1) get some books for me to read while they tried to summit the Grand and 2) inform the Jenny Lake Rangers what happened and change our camping permit. Mike and I waited for a few hours at our campsite in the Meadows while he did that. Mike, somewhat distraught by what had happened to me, spent about three hours practicing with his ice axe on a snow slope that flattened out long before hitting rocks. He took falls in every direction and used his ice axe to slow down and stop himself, the way I should have had I not wasted so much time panicking. He then came and undressed my bandages, checking my left arm in particular. It was still in a lot of pain and bloody, but I refused to let him clean it. It was also swollen in a few distinct spots and my shoulder had really started to hurt. I noticed a notch at the end of my collarbone that hadn't been there before and Mike was concerned that I might have broken a bone or two.

Instead of going back immediately, however, I wanted to let them summit. I felt really guilty about having fallen before we even hit base camp and I didn't want to ruin the entire trip. Our first day was wasted with naps and relaxing while we waited for Logel to return. The guys woke up bright and early (around 3 AM I believe) to start their summit the next morning. I had gotten up and barely made it halfway through my first book before they were back, around noon. The weather had been awful and they had to turn back by the Lower Saddle, where they ran into Ranger Jack.  Additionally, Mike made my day so much better when I mentioned that I had lost my chap stick and he reached into his pocket and exclaimed "you mean this chap stick?" the same way he had done with my lens cap post-fall. We spent the day in the tent as it started raining and the winds picked up. The next day, they tried again only to turn back for weather again. In the mean time, I'd been having trouble sleeping and I had been unintentionally cradling my left arm, which Mike noticed. It concerned him and he told me that I should probably get down to the car and go to the emergency room. I was obstinate, again not wanting to ruin the trip for everyone. However, he told me that I had been mumbling in Greek in my sleep, usually a sign of stress for me, and that convinced me. 

When they returned after the second summit attempt, they informed me that they had left their pro at the Lower Saddle in a bear box and that we were headed down. I tried carrying my pack on one shoulder but it was horribly uncomfortable and scary as we crossed snow and boulders that we had to scramble over. Logel took my pack and Mike took me, helping with all of the scrambling and letting me lean on him as we crossed any snow. I was terrified of it, especially the last stretch of snow we had to cross. At that point, Mike and Logel had switched responsibilities and Logel was trying to coax me across only 20 or so feet of snow. I was sobbing again, terrifying a group of small children that were on the other side and about to cross that snow with their dad. I had a minor breakdown but once I got to the other side and calmed down, I was ok. Mike decided to sprint ahead, since he was hiking faster than both of us and could drop his pack at the car and return for mine. He took off while Logel and I trailed behind. Logel's knee was starting to give him issues and the strap on his pack had broken, so I took my pack and threw it over my right shoulder, tightening the waist belt as much as possible. Mike had made me a makeshift sling out of my down jacket, which was hot but helpful. I hiked down as quickly as possible, constantly hoping I would run into Mike sooner than later. Logel was about 30 minutes behind me, struggling with his broken pack. I ran into a guy with crutches and spoke to him briefly about our respective injuries. Soon after that, I spotted Mike and a wave of relief washed over me. I gave him my pack and he gave me the car keys. He headed up to find Logel and I tore off for the car. 

As soon as we all made it back, we went to the emergency room in Jackson Hole. I had just consumed a 32 ounce bottle of Gatorade but I was still dehydrated and weak. They saw me almost immediately and put me in my own room. I was given warm blankets and more Gatorade. I was so dehydrated that they considered giving me an IV. Instead, they wheeled me to the x-ray machines and snapped several shots of my shoulder; nothing was broken but they recommended for me to see an orthopedist as soon as possible, preferably within the next few days. They also coated my left arm in lidocaine and gave me some vicodin, scrubbing my arm clean and bandaging it with a sleeve typically used for burn victims. I was loopy shortly thereafter (my typical reaction to vicodin) and vaguely remember talking to my mom and picking up a business card for the local orthopedic practice. We then headed to a campground for the night and I passed out in the backseat.

Events occurred: June 24-26, 2013

Grand Teton Adventure Part Three: The Beginning of the End

We arrived in Wyoming very late on Sunday night/Monday morning, camping in a wilderness area that Logel had researched. We parked and set up the tent for the night; I passed out immediately. The next morning, we were woken up by a blast of country-esque music coming from a truck nearby. We approached our fellow camper with hesitation. He greeted us warmly and invited us by his fire for some coffee. He was an older gentleman, probably in his 60's or 70's and he spent his time traveling around the country camping. I gratefully took some of his coffee and it was delightfully strong and served black, the way I like it. We started talking to him about our plans and he told us about some cool places he had been before. When he started talking about climbing Olympus in Greece, I got giddy and Logel poked me, explaining to the man that I was Greek. He then introduced himself as Odysseus and I almost lost it, I was so excited. We soon packed up our stuff and headed for Jackson Hole and the Jenny Lake Ranger Station in the Grand Tetons.

We pulled up at Jenny Lake and I emerged, still in my pajamas, to the stares of countless tourists. We headed to the Ranger Station and met some of the coolest rangers I'd ever encountered. We primarily talked to Ranger Jack and discussed our weeklong plans with him. They gave us our permits and we drove over to the trailhead. It took us about an hour or two to explode our stuff and pack for the trip. I was carrying all the trad pro on my back, jingling with every step. The hike to our campsite was short (only 5 or 6 miles) but steep. The elevation got to me almost immediately and I chugged my entire liter of coconut water within the first hour. I also borrowed Logel's trekking poles (I have since bought my own) and he used sticks, which helped immensely.

I was finally getting back to my normal hiking self when we started crossing snow. I had never had to do that before while carrying such a heavy pack, about 50 or 60 pounds. The guys taught me how to kick into the snow properly with my boots but I was struggling by the third stretch of snow. My boots were too narrow and I was starting to get blisters already. I have since replaced those as well, which was an excellent decision. Though I'd had them for over a year, they had never quite fit right, creating many blisters and other issues in the past. We passed the first campground and headed up even steeper snow toward ours. I was quickly instructed how to use an ice axe and then we headed up. As we were traversing a snow field that was at about a 45 degree angle, I started to panic. Mike, who was first, had realized we were too close to the waterfall on our left and the snow and ice were really thin, dumping into a swift underground stream. I couldn't help myself, but I became so freaked out that I started tearing up. Logel asked me if I was laughing or crying and was dismayed to learn it was the latter. I was exhausted and my feet were killing me. I was having so much trouble kicking steps into the snow and it felt like such a steep climb. I started to slip and caught myself a few times. Then, I didn't. It started slowly. I just fell to my knees and could feel them slipping down the snow and ice. I tried to use my ice axe but I couldn't get the right angle. Next thing I knew, I was sliding even farther and faster. I panicked. I screamed that it wasn't working as I tried shoving my ice axe into the snow. I finally turned it on its side and started self-arresting but I was going too fast. I couldn't believe I was falling. I kept thinking to myself that this was it, I was done for. I slid roughly 80 feet down the snow and ice before I hit the rocks. To quote Mike and Logel, I ragdolled down the rest of it, banging against 20 feet worth of rocks and gravel before I finally stopped on my back like a turtle.

Once I stopped, Logel leapt down toward me, with Mike following soon thereafter. Luckily for me, they are both EMTs and they both knew what to do. I hardly remember what happened but I was hysterical. I kept screaming that I wanted to go home and I was covered in blood and road rash. I was also freezing cold, since I had slid down so much snow in ice wearing nothing but and old crew unisuit. My left arm was particularly mangled, drenched in blood and swollen in various spots. Logel gave me his down jacket and tried to assess my injuries. Unfortunately, I was in too much shock to focus on my injuries. I cried about my camera, which was missing a lens cap (no big deal, but as I said, I was hysterical). I cried over my lost sunglasses. I cried over my tight boots. I was extremely unhelpful for Logel but it was entirely understandable since I had just suffered through a fairly traumatic experience. Luckily for everyone, I landed right near the trail to the first campsite. There were some other campers nearby that helped the guys gather my stuff and Logel helped me walk down. Fortunately, my legs weren't broken, just bruised and bloody. I sobbed everytime we had to cross snow but Logel helped me through it like a champ. Mike followed closely behind, gathering the belongings of mine that had been strewn down the mountain. 

When we got to the campsite, Logel and Mike started cleaning me up and conducting a further evaluation of my injuries. Most everything appeared to be a surface wound, except my left arm that was so mangled and in so much pain that I wouldn't let them touch it or clean it out. I continued to sob about my camera but Mike checked it and it still functioned, just a few minor scratches on the lens. Also, as I lamented over my lost lens cap (such a priority compared to everything else, I was so out of it), Mike reached into his pocket and pulled it out, exclaiming "you mean this lens cap?" I was ecstatic. They forced me to eat and drink water and put me to bed, trying to work out a plan for the next day and the rest of the trip.

Events occurred: June 23, 2013  

Grand Teton Adventure Part Two: Whitewater Rafting in CO

I only vaguely remember the drive to Boulder since I was curled up in a little ball in the backseat, dead asleep. We drove to a former OAR member's house (Rachel) near the Flatirons. The mountains were gorgeous, so Mike, Logel, and I decided to go on a short hike. We ended up at a playground and sat around on the swings for a while. I was still tired, so I just kept spinning myself around in circles on the swing. We headed back to Rachel's and followed her and her friends to the Poudre River, where we were camping for the night and whitewater rafting in the morning. Unfortunately, the group was so large that I had trouble keeping all the names straight, though I know that our raft guide was named Ryan and Rachel's girlfriend was named Molly. They had brought food, so we chipped in for that and the raft rentals and spent the night by the fire. 

The next morning, we woke up and hopped on the first run down the river. We thought the Poudre was only a class 3 so you can only imagine our surprise when we discovered that it had class 4 and 5 rapids. Our guide, despite getting thrown from the boat a few times, was excellent. He had never guided this particular river before and considering the difficulty of the rapids, he did a great job getting us through the thick of it. I only had one close call; I flipped backwards but my leg and feet were wedged so far and so tightly under the middle bar that I didn't end up in the river. I also kept falling into the middle of the boat for some reason, but that wasn't a huge deal. 
 

Additionally, we also saved a kayaker, who had been apart of our camping group. He reclaimed his boat but, alas, his expensive paddle was gone for good. The river was beautiful, carving through steep canyons. Unfortunately, however, it was snow-fed and therefore very cold. Mike and I were both freezing, especially when we were in the shade. Nonetheless, we had a blast and we all survived the run. It took us several hours though so by the time we got back to the camp, we no longer felt like climbing. We had noticed some routes while we were on the river but it was getting late and we needed to head for Wyoming. We watched the second run and then packed up again for a seven hour trek.

Events occurred: June 21-22, 2013