#9 the dousy.

The story starts on day two of our adventure. Word of a rope swing had made it's way to us, and after we made up some much needed sleep we were off to find it. We packed a few things ( as we imagined this would be an all day venture) and set off toward Beaver Falls. Beaver is about two miles past Mooney, which meant we had to scale the cliff side once again. We did just that and were about half mile in when we spotted the swing. Some fellow campers were already there and we watched as they took the plunge into the river. We noticed the water was low, but our new found friends told us of a place deep enough to drop off of the swing before they left us. We each took turns on the swing and although it was small we were having a grand 'ol time. Somewhere in the fun someone suggested we needed to make the swing swing higher. Because the water was so low we had been jumping off of a tree stump, and this only entertained us for so long. The idea was supposed that we pull back the legs of whoever was swinging in an effort to propel them faster. Shane was willing to try it so we got him up on the log and then I took hold of his ankles wheelbarrow style.

Right before we sent him off. ^^ That was our tree stump.

Bad idea. When I let go of Shane he wasn't headed in the right direction, and after he swung back a few times in an effort to switch directions, he eventually dropped. right.onto.a.rockbed.

This was the swing.. Those are the rocks he fell in.

 He surfaced ( which was a relief) with a grimace that could only mean one thing- he was hurt.  He climbed out of the river and this what we saw:

Yeah see that white stuff? We thought it was his bone, and as if that wasn't enough he was losing what looked like a lot of blood. I took one look at his leg before our fellow camper Trevor pulled me aside and said something to the effect of, "Lakin his bone is showing, he's not going to make it out of here. You need to go get help, now!" Trevor looked at me with death eyes, so naturally I thought Shane's life was on the line. Great. I took off down the river-literally sprinting through the water- looking for help. I stopped anybody and everybody I saw and sent them Shane's way. I was so frantic. Looking back I'm beyond embarrassed, but at the time I thought Shane's life was in my hands. I scurried up the cliff side at Mooney like a little squirell and continued on my quest for help. I ran for what felt like forever until I finally came across one of the Natives and sent them on the two mile hike up to the reservation for medical help. The native took his sweet time mosey-ing up to town, which only hightened my sense of distress and need for help. I took off again, this time tearing through any campsite that had people in it looking for help. By this point I was a blubering mess. If I tried to talk, I sobbed. At one point I came across a boy scout camp full of Priesthood holders ( which was extremely comforting, because although all of the guys down with Shane were worthy holders, they didn't have any oil). I asked them if they had oil, to which they said no, so.. I literally just walked away. Like, what the!? I cannot be held accountable for my actions at that time. Obviously I was a mess.  I went back to camp where Trevor told me to wait for them. I was still filled with adrenaline and the idea that Shane's life was on the line so I frantically started taking down camp thinking "We're getting out of here asap. Shane's going to the hospital" 15 minutes probably passed before Melanie came walking up the trail. She was WALKING!? This obviously meant Shane was okay, but of course I needed immediate details. Long story short, I sent way more help than was needed and Shane was now limping out the canyon. I felt like such an idiot. I came to find out later that my extremely unstable emotional state had scared people badly enough to send a call to life flight! Luckily we stopped them from coming, but still. That should give you an idea as to how freaked out I was. Naturally I was very embarrassed when everything turned out fine, and all of the people I sent down had to pass our camps on their way back to their own. Operation: "Avoid everyone in camp" was immediately put into action.

While I was sending in anyone with two legs to help, Shane had recieved a nice bandage of sorts and was being escorted up to camp. The very first group of people I  stopped were equipt with a Maxi Pad and we had packed some gauz which was enough to get him out of there and back to camp.

Eventually a ranger from the reservation came and took him to the clinic where he had to have some stitches. Everyone in my own camp felt the need to laugh at me for the rest of the day, and my feelings were almost as hurt as Shane's leg. I was only trying to save a life after all. In the end, my whole reaction was just a joke. I don't know what got into me. On the brightside, now you all know if death comes knocking on your doorstep who you can rely on. Bahaha. This kid.

To read Melanie's point of view, click here.