A couple of weeks ago we decided to hike Massacre Bay again. You might remember an earlier post of mine a little less than a year ago about hiking this trail. It is not for the faint of heart. Hard work, hot and disorienting, and apparently, it's also dangerous. Well, that is when you walk over palm leaves which happen to be hiding a pile of rotting coconuts.
After walking for a couple of hours to get to the beach, I was rambling around in the jungle trying to find the path out to the beach when I twisted my ankle and came down hard. Rolling around on the jungle floor, holding my leg, sobbing and crying, "My ankle! My ankle!" was not exactly how I imagined my hike to end. Of course, I immediately started imagining myself on crutches at my wedding and began kicking myself for not having enclosed myself weeks ago into a hermetically sealed environment.
I had to do the treacherous climb out of the jungle on a bum ankle. It REALLY HURT! Thank god for the ever present lava-lava and the diverse uses it can be put too-for example, the Samoan Ace Bandage.Once off the mountain and drugged with pain killers and beer I was a little better. It's gotten A LOT better over the past couple of days and I'm even thinking of running again, though with my ankle encased in one of my pathetically many braces. Thank the powers that be that I won't be shopping for white, satin crouches when I head home in a couple of weeks.
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