Falling Off The Mountain Almost

On The Mend
June 21 `72

I suppose I had myself to blame for some of what ailed me. Yesterday,
I got a ride up to Many Glacier. I was in no condition to be there,
but I figured I could walk (hobble) around on the trails anyhow. I
took the easy one through the pines. Its ascent was gradual. Actually,
the incline was never very steep. It's just that when I got up around
the timberline, I encountered trail-blocking snowdrifts. The first one
was small. I just walked across it. But the second one covered the
trail on a steep incline, and it was big. It stretched all the way
down the incline to where the mountain came to an abrupt halt. The
drift was long, but it was also narrow. I could see the path start up
again on the other side. I figured if I was careful, I could make it
across.

I stuck my stick in the snow and began to cross the snow bank. I
tried to dig my foot into the snow with each step. Halfway across, my
foot hit ice, and I lost my balance. I went sliding down the mountain.
As I was nearing the bottom where the snow fell off the 500-foot drop
off, I was desperately digging my hands into the snow. Right at the
end of the snow bank, I came to a solid lip where I was able to gain a
footing. If it weren't for hitting that small rock outcropping, I
would have become fertilizer for wildflowers. On the way down the
snowbank, I pulled the muscles under both of my arms.
Even now, I am in so much pain that if it weren't for writing in my
journal I probably would be crying.

June 23

My burns are still sore and my leg is still hurt and my hand is still
swollen and my arms still don't move, but I'm getting better.