[pct-l] rescue me by...

[madin@hvc.rr.com (madin)]

...was it martha and the vandellas? being a newbie 2 the list i was not
going to email the list concerning the topic at hand. however, after
trekking, mountaineering and climbing over 40 yrs i am compelled by forces
beyond my control, as well as the radio frequencies in my molars to excrete
my humble opinion.

six years ago i was hiking up to indianhead mtn via jimmy dolan notch, about
a 2000 ft climb over three miles to the summit. hallucinatory mid-fall day
in the catskills. 65 degreez, light breeze, maples and hardwoods glowing
colors which seemed to have an inner light source. i reached the summit and
looked up and down the hudson and the wall of manitou, ate lunch, took a
short nap. it couldn't have been more spectacularly perfect: which should
have tipped me off to the abyss of doom into which i soon would plunge (if
we all know life is chock full of surprises, why are we always surprised
when one happens?). i had done this hike perhaps 60 times, in all seasons
and weather. at 1.75 miles to the trail head as i ducked beneath the bows of
a large hemlock, i tripped over an exposed surface root which was abt 3/4"
high and took a weird fall. my left leg hurt as bad as my acute appendicitis
had. i wasn't in pain, i was inside of pain. i thrashed around a bit, and
pulled myself together by biting on a some rope and looked at my leg and
boot. an inch or so above the top of my left boot, a blood covered piece of
bone had ripped my thin nylon pants. the blood rapidly spread around and i
did the best i could with my first aid kit, which wasn't much.

over  the next six hours i dragged myself down the notch. my ass and right
leg assisting my arms as i struggled to keep my left foot elevated. i will
spare myself the details. i got to my car. no one around. i crawled into the
car, which was a standard five speed honda hatchback. i couldn't operate the
clutch so i jerked and stalled my way to the first house which seemed to
have people in it and leaned on the horn. someone came out, helped me to the
ground, elevated my leg and called an ambulance. my nylon pants and
underwear only had the elastic waistbands left in back. from my ass down to
around the bottom of my hamstring, i was down to a bloodied fatty layer of
tissue. two operations later and a long wound care/rehab and i was back on
the trail. so you see, this discussion is meaningless to me. anyone can come
up w/any rationale abt extra money for rescue, pissin' and whinin' abt this
fool or that, hiking alone, inexperienced or not, egomaniacal arrogance,
careless errors, plain stupidity, bottom of the food chain, darwin, ayn
rand, you momma, allah, god, predestination, bad karma. it don't fargin'
matter when you are dragging your compound fracture and bloody ass down
jimmy dolan notch. compassion. if trekking doesn't teach one compassion, i
wonder what will? marc/