Back in the Woods

Enroute to a geocache.

Its been a long and brutal 6 months. If you follow my blog, you know that I have been dealing with a debilitating back injury since early this year. I couldn't hike or backpack. I could barely walk. Eventually I had to apply for short term disability at work. The ordeal was slow and painful. Most of all it was frustrating. I was sick of it. I AM sick of it. When all treatment methods failed, I finally opted for surgery. I am happy to report that I made the right decision. It has been nearly a month since my spinal discectomy and I feel better than ever. It still blows me away how great I feel. Now I just need to recover what I lost during my injury.

Raccoon tracks in the mud

 In the past few weeks I have been hiking a ton. I'm getting stronger everyday. I'm enjoying my time in nature more than I ever have. It can be depressing when you live for the woods, but are stuck in the house hurt... for weeks on end. Time slips away. I have been soaking up nature. Noticing everything. Appreciating all of it. In the desert I've seen lots of coyote tracks in my usual haunt. More than normal. I wonder why? After a rain last week I saw small birds snatching dragonflies out of mid-air. I've never seen that before. I saw two roadrunners in the Phoenix Mountains last week where I've never seen any before. In Oregon I saw a firenewt for the first time on a hike to Mirror Lake. In northern Arizona I saw raccoon tracks in the mud, and found fossils in some rocks. 

Halfdome 2

Not only do I feel great physically, I am also coming round mentally. It takes a toll on the mind being laid-up for so long. Luckily I have the most amazing woman on the planet by my side. I know that I could not have survived this summer without my Sarah. I appreciate her and everything she has done for me. I appreciate everyone who helped me: My brother-in-law Jim Ciomber for being the best friend a guy could ask for. My coworkers and managers at REI for their understanding and support.

 This winter in the desert I predict will be a great one. I can't wait to throw on my Crown VC and spend some nights in the backcountry. Physically, I'm not there yet... but I will be.

Attack of the Back

Late last January something happened. I was playing catch with a football in front of the house during halftime of a playoff game. James threw a deep one, and when I stretched out to make the catch on the run, I was stabbed in the hip with a bolt of pain. Since then the pain has gotten progressively worse, despite weeks of physical therapy.

My days have been beyond miserable. I wake up in pain. Everything I do hurts. My back has grown severely crooked. Standing is hard. Walking is agonizing. 

Thankfully, my bosses and coworkers at work have been very understanding. I was allowed to work in a light duty capacity. This was enough at first. Despite the terrible amount of pain I was experiencing by the end of the day, at least I could work. That isn't the case anymore. As my back continues to spiral downwards, I can no longer work. I don't expect this to last much longer.

Why am I telling you this dear reader? Because my 2015 thus far has been wholly uneventful as I battle this injury, and I want to apologize for the lack of new content on my website. I wanted to explain to you where I am in life, so that you could better understand my position.

The MRI I took last week said that I have a blown out disk, which is crushing the nerve endings that run from the spine into my left leg. Based on my doctors recommendation, and the fact that physical therapy alone wasn't working, I am starting a pain management program with steroid injections directly into my spine. The idea is that if I can relieve the pain and become mobile again, I can start taking the necessary steps to permanently fix my back. If it fails, my doctor said the last option in surgery. I hope I don't get that far.

Despite this, I remain ever optimistic. As bummed as I am about a summer ruined, I don't dwell on it. I dwell on the now. I dwell on the future. My back will be fixed eventually, and I will be back to work, and more importantly, back to adventuring. In the meantime I will be working on my novel, which is nearing completion. If this pain management program works, I'll start getting outside again, but I'll keep it small. 

Anyway, thanks for reading and stay tuned.

Staying positive at the doctors office. Crooked back and all.

Backpacking Fiasco

 How may of my trip reports begin with "The original plan was...?" This was one of those trips where nothing went right, even before I stepped out the front door. Since I had three days off in a row, I decided it would be the perfect opportunity for some backpacking. I thought I would head into the Superstitions for a few days. Enjoy some peace and quiet. Enjoy some solitude. My plan was to just "wing it". I would figure it out as I went.

Flowers are blooming

 It was Monday morning and I couldn't find my map. I had last used it back in December. The last time I was in the Superstitions. But now it was gone. Not to be dissuaded, I decided to visit the Cave Creek area of Tonto National Forest again. My "go to" spot, if you will. Plus, I had the map. At the trailhead I knew right away that I shouldn't be there. My hip was killing me right out of the gate. Sciatic pain screamed down my leg into my calf with every step. I didn't think it would be that bad. A mile in I was already limping. I considered turning around, but I just didn't want to quit. I could simply just ignore the pain. Like I do every day. Three miles in and I needed a break. I found a nice shady spot and lied down. I stretched my leg and did some other exercises. I considered turning around again. I was in too much pain for a solo jaunt through the desert. I clearly was not in the proper physical condition for backpacking. But I had made it three miles, so I decided to camp right there.

Me camp. Argh!

I pitched my tarp as a windbreak and collected firewood. Even that was painful. I lazed the afternoon away and cooked dinner with my alcohol stove. Chicken and mashed potatoes ala freeze dried. Good stuff. I turned in about 8 pm. Around 10 pm I awoke to the sound of breaking brush near my camp. Something big was near. I ignored the sound. There are no bears in the low desert. But the sound didn't abate. Something was hanging around my camp. I got out of bed, turned on my headlamp, and scanned the darkness. Nothing but shoulder-high brush and tress. I crawled back into bed. Not 10 minutes later I heard breaking branches followed by huffing and puffing. This time I jumped out of bed. I scanned the dark with my headlamp again. Again I didn't see anything. I decided to reignite my smoldering fire. I found a large branch and snapped it in half. The sound of the snapping branch pierced the night, and startled whatever was in the brush. It ran toward the creek and jumped in the water. I could hear its footfalls as it splashed across the creek and crawled up the embankment on the other side. 

I sat by the fire for the next hour, just making as much noise as I could. By then I was thoroughly spooked. There are no bears in the low desert. I have never seen bear-sign in that area before. The only large predators in that area are mountain lion, but I reasoned that it couldn't have been a mountain lion because lions are silent. If a lion wanted to eat me, it could have crept up to my bed and locked its jaws around my throat without me even knowing. It could have been a coyote, but I didn't think so. The coyotes I have seen in the desert have been very small. I reasoned that it had to have been either a deer or a javelina, or maybe even a herd of javelina. I have run into javelina in the desert and they have not been aggressive, so I knew that I had nothing to fear from them. Eventually my reasoning quelled my fear, and I went back to bed.

At 3am I awoke again. This time from a heavy wind pounding my tarp. I had pitched the tarp in a windshield configuration expecting high winds, but the wind had changed direction by 3am. I crawled out of my bag and tightened all the guylines. The wind grew stronger and stronger and I couldn't fall back asleep. Finally around 3:30am, a huge gust literally pulled my stakes right out of the ground, and my tarp collapsed on top of me. I had anticipated this might happen, so I had stacked large stones on top of my tent stakes, but they had been flung aside by the wind battering my tarp. I got up and drove the stakes back in. This time I piled up boulder sized stones on the tent stakes. All the while, the bending and lifting was shooting pain down my leg. By 4am the wind had grown even stronger and it pulled another stake from the ground causing a corner of my tarp to flap. I got up and drove the stake in again, and piled 3 boulders on top of the stake. Then I lowered my trekking poles about 6 inches, drastically reducing the angle of the windshield, and thus surface area for the wind to hit. It worked perfectly. I wanted to kick myself for not thinking of it sooner. Such an obvious solution.

Cave Creek

I awoke with the sun around 7:30am. After such a brutal night I felt worse than I did when I went to bed. After a cold breakfast of granola and powdered milk, I packed up and headed back. The hike out was worse than the hike in. Of course, it was beautiful, and I did get to see many wonderful desert birds including a red tailed hawk, ravens, geese, and some cactus wren. The beauty of being there made up for the pain, but clearly I need to see a doctor before I do any more backpacking. I just don't have it in me at the moment. I guess for now I'll have to take it easy. Thanks for reading.

...I Wake Up

I wake up and I know something is wrong. I’m on my back; the blankets are pulled securely to my neck and under my chin, and wrapped around my body like an Egyptian Pharaoh prepped for the afterlife. My head rests firmly in the pillow like it must have been all night, and even more bizarre I’m aligned correctly on the bed; my head near the head, my feet near the foot.

Something is not right. No naked leg draped over the side of the bed exposed to the winter chill of the midnight air in my frozen bedroom. No blankets and pillow piled on the floor where I normally toss them at night, immersed in a grand adventure of my nightly visits to Camelot, or the Rocky Mountains, or the Great Barrier Reef, or Mars… I am as I was when I retired 6 hours before, and that is not normal. I haven’t moved during the night.

My alarm goes off. I despise it. I hate it.… I would much more prefer the aroma of coffee accompanied by a woman’s gentle touch, and a voice telling me softly in my ear, “Wake-up baby, it’s time for work.” And when lids part my gaze is met with the eyes of the one I love. She is smiling, and on her face is love and in her eyes a sliver of guilt for pulling me from a dream…. That is the way to begin the day, looking into the eyes of an angel. And if all our days began that way, the world would be a better place.

Instead I am blasted into consciousness by the clock. It’s loud and in my face, like a Drill Sergeant, and if I had a hammer close by I would have mercifully ended its miserable existence on this earth. Instead I reach across my body to hit the snooze button, but I’m stopped half-way as the whole right side of my body is racked in pain.

I slowly make my way out of bed. It takes ten minutes. The pain is building and I know I won’t be going to work. I can barely sit up. I nearly fall over on the way to the bathroom, but the walls of the narrow hallway keep me up. It feels like someone has hammered a railroad stake into my back. The pain gets worse as I hobble around the house trying to get ready for the day, but I can’t. I stumble back into my bedroom and crawl into bed. I pass out.

I have to pee, but I can’t get up. Its noon and I’m hungry, but I can’t get up. My lower body throbs with a pain I haven’t felt before. My pelvis feels like it’s in a vice, slowly being crushed. When I try to roll over a power drill bores into my hips. When I try to straighten my legs, I’m halted by the seesawing of a hacksaw on my thighs. I call my family but no one is answering. I wish had some pain pills. I pass out.

It’s late in the afternoon and Luke comes home. He asks how I’m feeling. He suggests that I get up and walk around. I tell him I can’t, but am too proud to ask for help. He goes into his room. I guess he thinks I was exaggerating. Still no one answers the phone. There isn’t much to do when you can’t get out of bed. I’m worried about my Appalachian Trail trip. A month from now I plan on walking 2185 miles in 6 months, and now I can barely move. I’ve changed my whole life for this trip. I’ve sold some belongings, and I’ve given my notice to my managers that I’ll be moving out at the end of February. How will I move, when I can’t even move?

The next morning is Tuesday and I think a day of rest has to have done me some good. I really have to pee, and I still haven’t eaten. I try to get out of bed, but I can’t even sit up. I can hear Romi walking around the house, making breakfast, taking a shower, talking on the phone. He knows I’m in a bad way, but he doesn’t check on me, and I’m too proud to ask for his help… I think it must be nice to have someone… Someone to love you, and care about you, and worry about you. Someone to take care of you when you’re sick. Someone to be there for you. I wonder how many people have someone like that, and foolishly take them for granted. I pass out.

…Finally my mom answers. She comes over with my Grandma and my Uncle Kevin. They are here for me. That’s what family is for. Family loves you no matter what. It doesn’t matter if you don’t drive a nice car, or if you don’t wear the latest fashions, or if you don’t make the most money. It doesn’t matter if you screw up and say or do the wrong thing, because your family will forgive you. Family will love you just as much when you’re down and out as they did the day you were born, and will stay by your side even when everyone else has forsaken you… I need there help getting to the doctor, but they can’t even get me up. The pain is just too much. My back refuses to comply. My mom calls 911…

…to be continued.