I skipped up the summit rock and past 2 college age guys sitting just a few feet below the true highest point (between the true summit and the summit cairn). Surprised by my somewhat decent ascent time, I wanted to rip the downhill and see if I could get back to Chautauqua in under or near an hour, but as I turned to head down off the summit rock, there were two more guys coming up.
For some reason, instead of waiting and working my way around them, I started working my way down the North side of the summit rock, which is easy to get to a step half way down. To reach the ground from that step, it either requires a short face in downclimb, or what I thought was an easy 5 foot jump to the NE. I hopped off, but in mid air, I had a moment of hesitation and questioned where and how exactly I was going to land. The best option was a large embedded boulder which is where I originally planned to land before I would once again have to hop the remaining foot or two to the ground, but my speed and trajectory were just a touch off and before I knew it, I came off the mid-way boulder and came crashing to the rocky ground below.
It all happened so fast and it was startling what an impact such a minor fall provided. I was in shock, pain, disbelief and it brought back memories of really eating shit over the handlebars of my bike . I let out a series of loud and involuntary F bombs and the guys on the summit peered over to ask if I were OK. I tried to play it cool, but I was in a bit of shock and quite embarrassed. I spent a bit taking inventory, trying to determine if this was something I could shake off, or if I needed some help or not.
Adrenaline had fully taken over and I knew I should not linger. I slowly started gimping down Greenman, eager to get to the large snowbank below the final switchback I had passed on the ascent. I stopped to clean up a little (if you see a bunch of bloody snow in the trail, that was me) and kept on moving, as I knew I had to take advantage of this adrenaline high.
I hobbled my way back, oohing and ouching the whole way, having to explain my bloody self to the occasional hiker. I felt like a real idiot. The car was a welcome sight and I got down just barely faster than I made it up (an accomplishment, as I was thinking I may have to head to Flagstaff road and hitch a ride).
Once I got home and started to clean up, the pain really starting to sink in. An hour later, I was surprisingly still bleeding, but fortunately I don't think I need any stitches. It is my kneecaps however that hurt the most and I can't bend them and can hardly stand or walk. I don't think anything is broken (I hope), we'll see what tomorrow brings. I'm hoping I can escape this with just a day or two off and a lesson learned.
When I walked in the door at home, my 2.5 year old daughters were telling me I need to go to the doctor and get a cast (since they have each had broken bones in the past few months). This was pretty cute and really helped make light of it all.
This is the best picture I have of where it happened. The rock just behind the dog on the right side of the photo is the one I tried to hop onto, but could not stick the landing.
Both knees have some bumps and swelling
Both my hands got it good too, thought I may have sprained my wrists at first, but they are just a bit strained.
