Each downward step caused a sharp pain to shoot up my ankle. Ironically, going uphill didn’t seem to bother it nearly as much. When my foot extended downward and needed to absorb the blow from stepping down, it occasionally caused me to cry out.
A couple of weeks ago, I’d accidentally kicked a rock into the same ankle. It had been tender for a couple days but hadn’t bothered me since. During a river crossing three days ago, I slipped and smacked it against a submerged rock. It hurt but just about everything does on the trail. I forgot about it till after I stopped for lunch. When I started to walk again, I quickly realized I had a bit of a problem. Ibuprofen it was to get me through the day. Some more that night. And still more to hammer the rest of the 30 miles into Brooks Lake Campground where Michelle and Maggie picked me up.
Currently, I’m taking a couple of days off to see how it heals. There’s a pretty good bruise and blood pool right on the ankle.
Mileage and my love
On the plus side the terrain in Wyoming is much more conducive to making miles. The rain and cold chased me into one 30 mile day and a 25 mile day followed.
I’m still not finding a good groove with walking. The last 300 miles have been a sequence of pushes to get to wherever Michelle is going to be as fast as I can. I’m running towards her, and I know that streak is ending. She’s going to have to head back to Michigan after this stop in Dubois. That puts me in an emotionally fragile place.
One thing I’ve learned on this journey of self-discovery is that I really don’t like being separated from her. It sucks.
That and my ankle are making me seriously consider calling 1000 miles good and heading back to Michigan.
This was called Parting of the Waters. The creek split in two with half headed to the Atlantic and the other to the Pacific. I spent the night here after gratefully finding a fairly flat spot after a long cold day in the rain. Six hours of drizzle at 40 degrees had soaked me to the point where I struggled to get my fingers to undo the buckles on my pack.