I’ve talked often of hiking one’s own hike. When I was driving up to Glacier in June, I stopped to see Barb, my friend and CDT Trail Angel, who lives in Helena, Montana. She talked about hiking the hike you’ve been given. I thought of that a lot as I was hiking, and I’m definitely thinking about that now.

Jessica, the church handywoman, drove me to the hospital in Tonasket, Washington. This is a small local hospital in a town of just over 1000 people. How different it was even from the hospitals in rural Vermont. I am sure that on some days this emergency room was busy, but on the day I arrived I was processed immediately. I was seen a relatively short time later. For the most part, people were kind to me, and while the medical care was by no means stellar, it was adequate.

I could tell the doctor, who was maybe a few years younger than I am, had no concept of long distance hiking. When I told him about my foot, his reply was, “It’s hurting because you’re walking so much.”

I assured him that was not the reason it was hurting, to which he replied, “well, you probably have a lot of arthritis.”

I had the feeling he thought I was complaining about nothing. I assured him that I did indeed have arthritis, but that was not why my foot was hurting. I asked him if he would please do an x-ray to rule out stress fractures. I explained that they are a common injury for backpackers.

He asked me where my foot hurt. After I showed him, he poked it with one finger. When I said, “yes, that’s where it hurts,” he said he would do an x-ray. Other than that one poke and having my temperature and blood pressure taken, I had no other physical contact with the doctor or nurses.

Someone came in with a portable x-ray machine and x-rayed my foot. After sitting for quite a while, the doctor came in and told me the x-rays looked fine. I assumed I must have injured the tendons and if I took a little time, I would be able to continue my hike.

But then the doctor said, “today is Tuesday. Our mobile MRI machine is here on Tuesdays. We could give you an MRI. That would be the gold standard.”

When he said this, I saw dollar signs passing in front of my eyes. I was worried about how much I would have to pay for these medical bills. But at the same time, I knew that something was really wrong with my foot. When the doctor assured me the MRI would show tendon and ligament damage as well as bone damage, and he was certain my insurance would cover it if he recommended it, I agreed to have the MRI. One thing I found amazing was that I was able to walk right into the MRI with no waiting time.

On the other hand I waited for over an hour for the MRI results to come back. The doctor came in and told me I had three broken bones in my foot. I knew in an instant the hike I had been given was one that was done for now. 

When I asked the doctor what I should do about my foot, his first comment was, “You probably should stop hiking.” Then he said “you could take up swimming.” After those two remarks, he was ready to let me leave.

I asked him if it was OK to walk on it and he said, “if it hurts, don’t walk on it.” He added, “I’m just an ER doctor. I don’t know about these things.”

I reminded him that the reason I came to the ER was because it was hurting when I walked. And then I couldn’t help but add that I had probably walked 350 miles with those broken bones and the level of pain was pretty high or I would’ve kept on hiking. He looked at me and commented, “well, I guess you’re tough,” which was a big turnaround from his assumptions when I first walked in that I was just complaining about a sore foot from walking a lot.

The doctor left the room and came back with a print out from the Internet. He handed it to me and I pointed out that it suggested crutches and a boot. The doctor told me I could have those things if I wanted them.

I basically fit myself for the boot, trying on different ones and trying to figure out how they worked. There were no instructions with them and none of the ER people seemed to know how to fit it. Getting fit for the crutches was similar and I ended up adjusting them myself.

Eventually I got a ride back with Jessica, who had been very patiently waiting for me. She had canceled her plans for that afternoon to ensure that I would get a ride back to the church in Havillah. I realized how blessed I had been to get to the church in Havillah and receive help. I was determined to keep looking at what I had rather than what I was lacking.

When I arrived back and told Sarah the news, she helped settle me in and made sure I had what I needed. She and I were sorry to have to part ways, but I thought it fitting that Sarah, who had been the slowest of all, was now the lone remainder of the four of us who had started together in Glacier National Park on June 27.

While I was sorry to no longer be hiking with Sarah, I was not completely sorry to be ending my hike for this summer. I hadn’t been enjoying the PNT because of the extreme heat, limited views due to smoke, the trail itself which had a lot of road walking with minimal views, the bushwhacks, and the fact that my foot had been hurting for much of it. I was ready for a break. Many people have since told me they’re sorry I had to stop. If I am perfectly honest, I want to say that for now I’m not sorry. I’m sorry I have broken bones in my foot but I needed something of that magnitude to force me off the trail. I had a lovely final week hiking with Sarah, which I will remember as one of the highlights of the trail and I felt that was as good a way as any to end my hiking for the time being.

I was also aware that the upcoming section of trail, which is supposed to be the one of the nicer sections, had a number of fires closures. I would have had to hitch around much of the trail in the northern Cascade mountains. If I go back and do it another year, I should be able to walk through those beautiful sections, unless there are fires again in the area. When I hiked in the 80s, it was rare to have a trail closed because of fire. Now it is the norm. The expectation is that every year some parts of the trails in the western US will be closed due to fire. Many people who live in the dry areas west of the Mississippi have come to expect a fire whenever there is a lightning storm.

Lenette and her husband Paul took time from their farm work to see how I was doing. They brought enough food to feed all three of us hikers staying there for the night, including a meat loaf made from their farm raised beef. We even had leftovers. She also brought food for breakfast. The generosity of the people here again reminded me that this was possibly the most important benefit I had received during my past four years of adventuring. The kindness of the people I have met along the way helped me heal the pain from and loss of a marriage cruelly ended.

Most of the Trail Angels I have met are not people with deep financial pockets. I suspect most do it because they enjoy connections with the hikers, hearing our stories and knowing they are contributing in some way to our hike and our lives. They certainly have made a difference in my life. I stay in touch with many of them and have enjoyed sharing my stories with them.

As I settled down to sleep for the night, I knew I had a new challenge ahead of me. I was determined to face it one step at a time, with gratitude. I am lucky to live in a country where I was able to get medical help. I was fortunate that the one day of the week the MRI machine was at the hospital was the day I was there and needed it. I wasn’t sure what the distant future held for me, but I knew that in the morning I would work to make arrangements to get back to my car in Glacier national Park. And I tried to trust that just taking the first steps towards getting back to Vermont would eventually clarify for me what the next steps would be. I remembered how I had cultivated curiosity on the Arizona Trail. Rather than feeling sorry for myself or discouraged, as I fell asleep I worked to cultivate curiosity about what the future held in store for me.