We discussed the options calmly and concluded that I was in no fit state to walk, that chest pain shouldn’t be taken lightly, and we should call for help.
The chopper arrived an hour later. I felt a little better as they wired my chest up, gave me oxygen, put me on a stretcher and loaded me up. The remoteness struck me as we took off. From one horizon to the next was just barren scrub with the odd forest. No roads, no houses, nothing.
After half an hour, we crested a hill and Albuquerque appeared out of nowhere. The chopper slowed over the metropolis and landed outside the Presbyterian Hospital.
I spent the day in ER before being discharged late afternoon. They weren’t sure what the problem was but said it was likely to be bronchitis and handed me a prescription for antibiotics.
East Bay Hiking Trail Map Photo Gallery
“Don’t hike and certainly don’t do anything strenuous for at least three weeks. You need to rest,” were the doctor’s parting words before I left.
That made the choice for me to return home. Holding me up for three weeks wasn’t the end of the world, but it would create problems in my hiking schedule. That time in a motel would push the budget too much and I was concerned that the infection might return when I was out on the trail somewhere remote. I decided to fly home – a decision which turned out to be wise, as my infection was due to flare up again. The decision, although hard, felt good the following morning when I woke and felt at ease with it.
I wondered, after all the planning, the saving, the anticipation and dreaming, why I wasn’t upset. My chest gave me little choice in the matter but I was surprised at how acceptable the decision was. I had experienced bad days on the CDT, and to be honest there were plenty of times when I would have rather been elsewhere. I hadn’t experienced these feelings to such an extent on my other long hikes.
