On aging and making mistakes

I have aged 20 years over the last three days, hopefully on a temporary basis. For these long days, getting in and out of a car is a tedious mix of twists and turns and false starts, gasps of pain and quick adjustments. Looking over my shoulder to reverse from a parking space is next to impossible, as is turning the steering wheel to get into the same gap.
It's tough to reach up, it's tough to reach down, dropped items go unclaimed or wait until two or three are at the same level. Standing up, sitting down, lying down and turning over in bed, causes wrenching muscle spasms and squeaks, grunts or shouts of pain , depending on the element of surprise.
Sneezing, laughing, blowing my nose and undertaking other necessary daily routine body functions, well let's just say it all takes a very long time – and hurts.
What brought me to this level?
A sequence of events of course: no snow baskets on my hiking poles, allowing their support to vanish at a critical moment; a pack overloaded for the conditions due to late changes from a day hike plan to full backpack; faulty traction devices (do not ever by Stabilicers – the majority of traction studs of mine simply fell out in the first 2 miles). I could go on.
I fell about 10 vertical feet in several stages, first slip, grind arm on rock, attempt to rebalance using poles, topple head first, flail and turn sideways head still pointing down towards a tree, twist and land on my side, on a log, pack up and over my head, it's 40lbs of weight pinning me, crushing the damaged rib further.
Did I cry out – you bet, with every breath I tried to take until rescue came ten gasps later when the pack was unstrapped and lifted clear.
We should have walked out the 5 miles back to the trailhead and abandoned or modified the weekends plans.
We didn't.
We carried on, climbed two 4000-foot peaks on Saturday, hiking 7.9 miles. We slept in a three sided shelter and climbed three more peaks over 4200 feet high (one of them twice when we took a wrong term with me head down in the front) plus the same two Saturday peaks as we had to retrace our steps to leave New Hampshire's Pemigewasset Wilderness. The completed round trip totaled 20.3 miles with 7029 feet of elevation gain and loss.
Sympathy, no thanks.
A huge slice of good luck - plenty considering the spear like tree limbs, boulders, other obstacles - and the fact a women visiting from China died not 6 miles away last Thursday when a 5 feet by 3 feet by 20 inch slab boulder broke loose and fell on her.
Wilderness lessons to share, plenty.
Here are the good views of the weekend

Another loaded walk

Rain is your friend.
At least that's what I told myself as I tramped up and down the hills of Middlesex Fells on a training hike, carrying 50lbs in my new Osprey Aether 85 (liter) backpack.
Rain cooled me down, rain made everything a vivid green, rain made the rocks wet and slippery giving an excuse to go slow and steady. Rain meant I could try out my new Seattle Sombrero from Outdoor Research.

Seven miles and 3 hours 45 minutes of Skyline Trail hike time, and a short drive later, beer and nachos were my new friends.

The pack stood up well, sat comfortably and can only improve when I get the belt custom heat-molded to my hip bones (if I can find them).

On the other hand, the hat looked slightly over the top, but in Alaska will probably go completely unnoticed.

Spuds were never this heavy

When I were a lad I'd go to the farm with my dad and pick up a 56lb bag of spuds and waddle with it to boot of his old Austin A40. It were a right struggle and no mistake.
OK let's drop the Hovis bread accent. But that was and still is a lot of weight to carry, even for a short distance.

On Saturday I began my Alaska hike conditioning and since I figure I need to carry somewhere north of 5olbs, what better way to practice than to load up my backpack with 56lbs and start walking for a 7 mile round trip to Merriam's Corner along the Battle Road.
Thankfully an early Patriots Day event started shortly after my arrival at the historic site and the hour long ceremony provided adequate recovery time before the walk back.
Total walking time racked up - a measly two hours with an elevation gain and loss of a derisory 110 feet.
To put this in perspective, the 12-day Alaska hike has a gain of 11,956 feet and a loss of 13,512 feet - so basically it's a few thousand feet downhill, right?

Did I ache after lugging that load? Surprisingly only in my hip joints. But it did make me realize how important it will be to get in some 5-day (or longer) hikes with a full load well before this summer's big trip.