Tim's Pills
Saturday, Oct 20, 2018 | 2 minute read | Updated at Saturday, Nov 30, 2024
Joe got up later than he said he would. At 6:19, he declared, maybe I’ll see you on the trail today.
I, on the other hand, could barely move my left foot.
So I lay there. Wondering what I should do. Wondering if I should quit. I took to google to look up treatments, found some stretches, and went about trying to will my ankle to be healed.
I spent the day 1 of my convalescence stretching and staring at the trees rustling in the wind.
The campground had mostly cleared out, and there were no hikers left. They were all in the canyon, trying to make it across in time.
I have 2.5 days of food left. I’ve got time.
The evening had none of the previous nights wind. The canyon lay silent, and the clouds above were mostly still.
A man gave me a burrito. He seemed like he felt imposed upon, even though his imposition was of his own making.
I accepted the burrito and made soup.
I met Tim, a bikepacker traveling in the opposite direction. He blogs on crazyguyonabike.com. Tim gave me some anti-inflammatory medication. Pills from strangers. I checked the pills on the Internet; they seemed legit.
I drank my soup while staring at the moon. A faint scent of a fire burning in the distance accompanied my evening meal.
I spent day 2 of my convalescence staring at my tent wall. And stretching, of course.
After Tim left, I took his pills.
Maybe my ankle will feel up to the challenge of the Grand Canyon tomorrow.
Stretch.
Lie still.
Repeat.
