The Hip Injury
During the summer of 1998, James conducted an Eagle Scout service project on the Sleeper Trail, in the Sandwich Range of the White Mountains. We hauled picks, overnight gear and several days of food to a campsite beyond Mount Whiteface, a 4,000-footer. At the end of the project I carried a sixty-pound pack back down. Long downhill slopes exaggerated the impact of each step. One of the crew reached the bottom first and returned to lighten my load by twenty pounds. Feeling liberated I ran downhill for a quarter-mile, only to jam my right hip.
The injury gave me a scare and threatened to take me out of the next day’s plans, a 13-mile survey hike up Mount Tripyramid, across the Sleeper Trail, and down Mount Whiteface in one day. Afraid to aggravate the hip injury, I carried minimal clothing, the smallest pack, and a water bottle. Wearing running shoes, I walked gingerly. Ignoring friendly taunts, I lagged behind the others in the crew.
But by the end of the day they tired and I kept right up with them. I felt comparatively fresh, like I could have run the last mile or gone farther.
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