Falling seems to be one of the more common dangers on the AT, and one in which I am becoming an expert. Spending hours each day covering rough terrain, it is only natural that a moment's inattention, a small misstep, or a misjudged stride would cause a fall. Some are simple stumbles, others more serious.
Glacial rocks at Sunfish Pond, 6 miles into NJ from PA |
A more serious fall happened as Jay and I descended from Mt. Greylock in Massachusetts. The rocks were steep, the trail narrow. Just as I was about to take a downward step, a rock rolled under my foot, and my forward momentum carried me head-first over a four-foot abyss and into a gap between two rocks and a tree. In an instant I had plunged head down, feet flailing uselessly in the air, my backpack pressing the breath from my lungs, one arm hyper-extended above and behind me on the rocks.
The place Sarah fell, hiking down Mt. Greylock. I think that's a smile of relief at no broken bones! |
After Jay pulled the pack off of me, I was able to sit up, wiggle my fingers, and decided my arm was probably not broken. I then took an immediate dose of ibuprofen for the swelling already becoming apparent. Jay collapsed one of my trekking poles and secured it to my backpack, and I hobbled forward, holding my injured arm next to my chest with my pack strap, sling-like.
Fortunately we were planning to take a rest day the next day, which gave my arm time to heal. By the time we hiked out of town I was able to use both trekking poles. I just had to be careful how I put my pack on and off for a few days, and I had a rather unusual bruise and scrape on the inside of my elbow!
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