[pct-l] Tim's broken ankle

[Blanchard, Sym]

Gourmet,

Wow!  Great info and great writing.  Thanks!! Yes, I remember you at the 2011 kickoff and your role in the video.

Your accident sounds like what happened to me and what Ray Jardine had described in his book.  My left foot lost traction which caused my right ankle to roll to the right.  I crumpled down twisting my right ankle.  Was your hip belt cinched around your waist at the time?

After I ditched my hip belt, I had an identical incident where my left foot lost traction and my right ankle began to roll.  However I was able to quickly recover because my pack automatically swung around to counter my fall.  Just trying to support a possible hypothesis here … ”A hip belt can contribute to broken ankles”.  Especially for us older folks.

Symbiosis

From: Timothy Nye [mailto:timpnye at gmail.com]
Sent: Wednesday, September 19, 2012 1:38 PM
To: Blanchard, Sym
Cc: pct-l at backcountry.net
Subject: Re: [pct-l] Tim's broken ankle

Symbiosis,

As I learned, there were actually three Gourmets on the trail this year.  I met the third as he boarded the bus for Stehekin as I disembarked and headed North fresh from the bakery and a nero and zero. I had the opportunity to e-mail with the second early on when Tom and Joe let me know that there would be another Gourmet on the trail as I finished last year's hike. Both are great guys.

I'm the older one, although I inwardly cringed when I realized that that was likely to be the way we were going to be distinguished, but let's face it, there are only so many names out there and they don't get retired. I first hiked in 2009 and didn't get out of the desert I did trail angel the rest of that year and some at Mike Hererra's the next year as I recovered. When I hit Kick Off for my attempt in 2011, I found I was featured in the Six Million Steps video which they played at last years and this years KO.  I got a lot of attention from that, so much so that I left KO early last year.

I was drafted into the Wolverines last Spring and by that point had already managed to convince the county not to close down Tom at KM when they told him to get rid of the Internet Cafe. I'm known on the trail, but not generally by the members of a particular class, e xcept when the hike is well underway, rather I'm known by what was referred to as the "cadre" or " permanent party" when I was in basic training.  The latter expression is, I feel, particularly apt. Thus, I was hoping to avoid the "old" designation.  It is, however, entirely accurate.

I had a little over a thousand miles to complete this year: The high Sierra and the last third of Oregon and all of Washington.

By the time I hit Stehekin it was clear that the weather was changing. I had been blessed with perfect weather since I jumped back on the trail at Santium Pass other than several night time thunderstorms each of which resulted in fires that closed parts of the trail after I had traversed that particular area. Basically I was one step ahead.  I met Analog at the Suiattle River and we camped together through the end of the trail. I was taking my time,generally 22 to 24 miles a day through the steep terrain and the shortening days meant I began hiking at 7:00 rather than 6:30. No longer was I using my bag as a quilt as frost became common.  The last two days it snowed, spitting fitfully during the day, and the first night leaving a dusting.  We chose to camp at elevation and the second night were chased into our tents by 5:00 when an honest snow began. By morning my tent and bag both were weighted down with moisture, but, despite some internal misgivings I rolled everything into my pack. I was, after all, done after that day. Leaving my pot unwashed and eschewing extra water I left camp at 7:30 and began the final climb up and over Woody Pass.  The snow and ice had accumulated on the shadowed rock strewn slopes, patches of scree providing some variety as the trail looped up another few hundred feet, dropped and then climbed to 7,000. The clouds had cleared and the weather was hard and fine; with the new white shadows whispering the promise of the coming winter.

As I began to descend I was struck by the fact that the snow continued to persist, even during the advancing day as I dropped thousands of feet.  The canopy again closed over me as I approached Castle Pass.  I was lost in a reverie, pressing well over 3 mph, and carrying my trekking poles at my side. I'd have discontinued carrying them at all, but for the fact my single wall requires one for support. The previous night had established that the tent clearly was not capable of serving much past early fall as an adequate shelter.

My left foot suddenly was supported by nothing as the tread gave way beneath me. The fall happened so fast that I literally  was down before I realized it with no chance of catching myself.  I knew I was hurt. The question was how bad.

Fortunately another hiker was closing behind me, FairPlay.  I didn't realize it, but I had cried out when I fell and his concerned face and outstretched hand appeared above me on the trail as I was still collecting myself. Taking his hand I was unable to gain a purchase on the slope And climb back up on the trail until I switched to my left foot.  The ground felt strangely mushy when I attempted to leverage my way back up with my right.  When I got back on the trail brought down my right foot the foot rotated out while my leg roasted in.  Hmm.  I tried it again with the same result, swore, and sat down.  As I peeled off my sock after my shoe I contemplated the rapidly enlarging ankle that was then exposed.  I knew it was broken.


  I carried a Spot, but had sworn I would not use it except as a very last resort. I knew my wife was on her way to the Lodge at Manning Park at that moment.  All she would be notified of was that I needed an air evacuation. She knew that in 2009 I'd taped up a torn ligament in my leg so that I could climb up out of a drainage; I had done such a tight taping job that the adhesive in the tape was then stronger than the compromised internal consistency of the skin so that I wound up removing most of the skin on my leg in taking off the tape. I had viewed this option preferable to calling in a helicopter.  Thus she would no doubt be scared when she got the call.


I pressed the Spot.  By now Bladder Pillow and John Wayne appeared.  All three waited with me. The ankle really wasn't bothering me that much. More difficult, at least for almost an hour, was the emotional issue of coming to within 4 1/2 miles, or an hour and a half, of the monument and then being injured before crossing the Canadian border.


However, although at first I didn't know whether to laugh or cry I decided that this was a win.  If we mean what we say when we emphasize that the hike is about the journey and not the destination then it matters little which patch of ground we occupy when the hike is over.  Or even whether we finish in a vertical or horizontal plane.  I dug into my pack, removed my cigar and lit it while opening my flask of wine.  I had my own celebration right there.


The fall occurred around 10:40 and I pressed the Spot button about 10 to 15 minutes later.  The helicopter appeared 4 hours later.  Despite my having crawled to a clearing on the hillside and the jumping up and down and waving of the other hikers I later learned that the only thing the crew was able to see was Fairplay's red jacket.  The rest of us may as well have been invisible.  I thought motion would be sufficient.  What I hadn't 'counted on was that the motion of the copter negated that as it flew overhead.


After buzzing us a couple of times it flashed it's landing lights twice when it saw us and disappeared. It was after 3:30 by then and urged the others to take off so that they could get to the monument ( Bladder Pillow had been carrying a magnum of champaign) and dinner at the lodge.  We were all pretty much out of food and I gave them what was left of mine.


Approximately 40 minutes later, two Whatcom County SAR members appeared hiking up the trail.  They wanted to know if they splinted my ankle whether I could walk a thousand feet if they helped me on at a time. The trail is narrow here, but I was willing to give it a shot. As they splinted my ankle the actual situation became clear.  The homeland security helicopter they were using had no winch. The helicopter was actually over a mile away by trail and over a thousand foot climb away.  This was not possible.


As it turned out I had sheared the fibula on the outside of the leg and the tendons attaching to the inside and rear of my ankle joint had torn loose by pulling out the portion of the bones to which they were attached creating irregular fractures.  The SAR team began an inventory as the light began to fade as it became apparent that we were all going to have to spend a night on the trail pending their obtaining a helicopter with a hoist.  The clearing we were in was small and surrounded by 80-90 foot conifers as well as being located on a steep slope. They had one sleeping bag between the two of them. There were still patches of unmelted snow on the trail side.


The coordinating deputy with the Watcom Sheriff's department conjured up a Blackhawk from Whidby Island Naval Air Station which arrived in a little over an hour in the evening light.  I wound up bundled into a stretcher which was hoisted up into the aircraft; literally as my foot swung into the fuselage before I was hauled inside.


I was transported to PeaceHealth St. Jo Medical Center into Bellingham.  Excellent small city facility I elected to have surgery there the next day and now have a nice assemblage of hardware. When I arrived I received my first pain relievers.  The coordinating deputy promised to have a copter drop me off on the trail next summer if I wished.  The administration sent me flowers and two earnest young women asked if the hospital staff could push me the rest of the way down the trail in a wheelchair, in shifts.  Also, Silver Fox, whose husband, Frost, is hiking this year visited with a card and candy and promises of any assistance I might need.

Sent from my iPad

On Sep 19, 2012, at 9:56 AM, "Blanchard, Sym" <SWB3 at pge.com<mailto:SWB3 at pge.com>> wrote:

Hey Gourmet,



So sorry to hear about your broken ankle.  Are you okay now? Can you enlighten us as to what happened?  And what we can do to help prevent this from happening to us?  I bet this will be a great story for you someday.



There has been lots of conversation and concern from fellow hikers on the trail.  Apparently there were more than one Gourmets on the trail this year.  Are you the older or younger Gourmet?  I will be hiking north out of Snoqualmie tomorrow morning so I can spread the word.



I know how disappointed you must feel.  In 2010 near Three Finger Jack, I rolled and broke my ankle and broke my shoulder.  I popped my dislocated shoulder back in (a few times) and hiked about 20 miles to the Pamela Lake trailhead, hitch to Eugene, and Amtrak back to the SF Bay Area for shoulder surgery.  Makes a great story, I think…



I think my "lesson learned" was to remove the hip belt from my pack.  I felt it locked in my spine so that I could not quickly right myself as I was rolling my ankle.  Ray Jardine talks about this situation in his Trail Days book.  This change is actually a good thing for me because my pack base weight is about 7 lbs, so the extra weight on my shoulders has not been a problem.



All the best in your recovery and your return to finish the trail!

Symbiosis


PG&E is committed to protecting our customers' privacy. 
To learn more, please visit http://www.pge.com/about/company/privacy/customer/