Kneelamity

After our Damascus marathon, we had three days to reach our scheduled ride from Grayson Highlands back into Damascus for Trail Days. Since the distance was only 30 miles, we used this time to avoid the worst of the forecasted rain, spending most of the second day huddled in a shelter.

The third day was a 16 mile hike into Grayson Highlands State Park in muddy conditions. We started early to have plenty of buffer. My left knee started hurting early in the day, but I pushed on.

About halfway to the destination, I slipped and fell in the mud, rolling my left knee on the way down. Fortunately Strider was there to help me up. My knee didn't hurt any worse than it already did, so I continued.

By the time we reached the parking lot I was experiencing a lot of pain just from moving around. During the festival I tried to spend time resting in my tent, but it was not getting better. Finally I went to the First Baptist Church free medical tent seeking whatever they could do for me.

The doc prodded me a little, then said I had either inflamed cartilage or a torn meniscus, the latter requiring surgery to repair. They gave me a cortisol shot, said to kick in within three days, and sent me on my way.

I hiked for two more days after the festival, supported by a knee brace and a regimen of ibuprofen. It didn't work. Before we reached Partnership Shelter, the Marion road crossing, I knew that I would need to leave the trail to heal.

As I write this, I am laying in bed at the EconoLodge in Marion, VA where the four of us spent the night. My friends resupplied and rejoined the trail this morning. I am surrounded by traces of their presence; piles of trash, used towels, clumps of hair. But it may be a while before I see them again. I expect it will take at least a month to recover, but will be seeking a more complete diagnosis as soon as possible.

When I can hike again, I plan to rejoin my friends further north, skipping much of Virginia. I can easily come back and do it later; Marion, my pausing point, is only a hour by road from my house.

I will avoid a repeat of this injury by pacing myself more carefully. I can do the miles that the younger hikers do, just not at the same speed. Starting early and using every ounce of sunlight is the recipe.

I feel sadness, but not grief. I do not want to leave the trail, and definitely do not want to end my trip. I tried to think of reasons I would voluntarily quit the trail, but it was difficult. I have a habit of not knowing when to quit.

I have come up with a list of things to do at home to keep myself busy. I want to get a charcoal grill, learn to perform more songs, further refine my gear, reconnect with old friends, and stay connected with new ones.

This trip has brought me tremendous joy. I will be back for more.