Mt. Monadnock

Griffen, Erin, and Scott laid the sweatshirts and soft layers they had collected from the rest of the group down in the litter before asking me to lie down. Within minutes the group had strapped me tightly in, my swollen ankle awkwardly padded so as to make it more comfortable. I felt the hands of my fellow staff members grab the edges of the litter, surrounding my body. "On the count of three," Scott directed. Suddenly I was off the ground. I could vaguely see the faces of my friends in my periphery as they began walking me back down the trail, but most of what I could see was the thick canopy above me. I felt utterly helpless as I was passed carefully over the large boulders I had easily climbed just hours before. I couldn't move, and was fixated on the pain in my ankle. It was embarrassing. I had been climbing, and successfully summitting Mt. Monadnock since I was 5. How could I have been so careless? And now I was forcing my co-workers to carry my useless body down most of the mountain. My knees burned in their locked position and I hated myself for getting us all stuck in this situation.