Terrified on the long road

RReturning to the trail fills me with sharp, acute anxiety along with a deep sense of loss.

However, objectively I am incredibly lucky.

Go ahead to continue walking

After a date with the wonderful Blaze Physioa physical therapist who specializes in helping hikers, I feel tentatively confident in my ability to continue on the Long Trail with my quadriceps injury. I need to walk on shorter days, take longer breaks, and, perhaps most importantly, be willing to stop if I have to.

Chicken, my walking companion for the past 12 days, needs to move on to meet a deadline at the border. My best case scenario would be to make it six days to the Canadian border, alone and in constant pain.

a painful walk

One of the most frustrating parts of this injury is how it changes my experience on the trails. It’s easy to forget that a hike is literally a vacation. I’m using my PTO for this. I chose this path. Knowing that my vacation will now be punctuated by hours of pain every day dampens my morale.

Still, I am very grateful for the opportunity to continue trying to move Canada forward. I slowly wander up Bolton Mountain, a 10-mile climb from the road where I left the trail. Without much enthusiasm, I listen to Taylor Swift’s new album, but mostly I focus on the placement of each step and the position of my body as I test my leg’s ability to bear weight.

Up and over Bolton Mountain

Compounding the problem is the lack of water in Vermont; I need to carry water for 14 miles without fully understanding how long it will take me to walk with my leg bandaged and bandaged.

I still allow myself (force myself) to make the ascent and descent of Bolton Mountain slowly, stopping frequently to take weight off my leg and enjoy the views through the trees.

Today is a little preview for me. With only 6,000 feet of elevation gain and 3,500 feet of elevation gain, I don’t ask much of my quad. On the descents is where I expect to feel the most pain. Tomorrow, when you climb up and down Vermont’s tallest mountain, your leg will be tested in a way that can’t compare to the strain today.

Sunset at Butler Lodge

I stop at Butler Lodge for the night, forcing myself to call it a night despite feeling well enough to continue. The cabin’s caretaker, Brittany, has taken cookies up the mountain and I complement my dinner with her freshly baked delights.

From the balcony, I watch the sun set behind distant Burlington, stretch my leg, and try to fall asleep as early as I can.

I remind myself that I can only control so much: my hydration, my nutrition, my sleep, my daily mileage, and my intentionality in placing steps. If I want to get to Canada (and I want to, really bad), all I can do is focus on those five things.

Today I listen to Father Figure by Taylor Swift and it sounds like stepping on a very crunchy, dry, crunchy leaf.

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