AT14 Day 48: You know Goose dies, right?

7/1 Tue
Imp-> Full Goose
1879->1908

Leaving early this morning I felt good physically, but mentally I felt like I was losing a friend and going out in the wilderness, lonely again.  Surely Pnuemo was worked and had no reason to continue at such pace except for the companionship.  I got to White Mountains Hostel and Inn (our goal from yesterday).  I asked if they had any food to buy. Not really. The guy checked.  One Cherry Garcia.  I took it and filled up.  Somehow I got to saying I was in a hurry because I was going for the record. The guy asked if he could interview me. I said fine, but I needed to keep walking. Well I ended up stopping. But it was brief and I was on my way.  Eating Cherry Garcia for break fast and jogging down the road. Odd to some people, seemed to make perfect sense to me.  It was hot and humid. I sweated out all the Cherry Garcia on the first climb. It was beginning to dawn on me that making it to Stratton was going to be a big stretch and I might just have to suck up 16 miles(8x2) into Andover.  I could pray for trail magic and consider buying food off other hikers.  Which, I don't want to do but also don't think really counts as support.  If you cannot plan or rely on it, it is really just a matter of luck.  But all I could do right now was keep moving. So I did.  I was making my was up a steep wet slab of rock. My feet were barely holding on and my hands were helping keep me up.  I went to make my final move to the top. My pack went, then stop. It caught a tree branch. I landed on my chest, my foot slipped and my hand couldn't grip. I slid down the rock and crashed.  Thankfully The pack took most of the impact but I was shook up and one of my ribs really hurt. I was really just heading to a dark place. So when I got to the top of the mountain, I decided I would lay in the sun on a big rock, dry out my feet, dry my gear and maybe grab a quick nap.  As soon as I sat down, it was lunch time...for the bugs that is. I don't notice or get bothered by the bugs when I am moving, but when I am sitting still I cant stand them.  I quickly did everything in between swats. So uncomfortable.  And so I got moving again, not much of a break.  Things were going fine. I was descending. I jump down off a rock 4 feet as I had done a million times in the last few days. But I landed funny/hard. There was a weird shooting sensation from my left foot.  I tried to keep moving before the pain set in. But it was a pain that was going away.  I stopped took the shoe off. I felt around, massaged and tried to diagnose.  This was not good.  My best hope was for a bone bruise which would be uncomfortable to finish to say the least.  The other more dreadful and thing I was most worried about running 50+ days straight with a pack on and being malnurished; a stress fracture.  I got my phone out, I had service. I called my dad. He answered.  Between tears I tried to explain what was going on.  He told me to calm down, everything was going to be okay. Of course, why didn't I think of that. I was really reluctant, as I yelled at him the other day and said I didn't want to see him until Katahdin. But I worked up the nerve to ask him if he could meet me at the next road tomorrow; it was still 16 miles away for me.  He said he would have to hurry but he would.  I thanked him profusely and told him I loved him a ton. It was difficult but I got to Full Goose Shelter safe and sound.  It was early so I will get a full nights rest.  Hopefully, my foot is better tomorrow.  

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