Of ribs and rescues

A classic G. George Ostrom column from 1994.

Beside the trillion wild flowers, billion trees and shrubs, million displays of lichens and moss, hundred thousand rills, riffles, and waterfalls, Glacier Park has ten and a half jillion loose rocks. One of those was accidentally loosened by a fellow Over The Hiller above me on Singleshot Mountain three weeks ago today. We were making a descent from the base of the eastern cliffs after deciding there was too much snow and ice, frequent avalanches, and not enough day left to go higher. Only one guy would admit he was absolutely pooped.

“Rock, Rock, Rock,” came the warning cry and I turned just in time to see a 60-pound boulder coming right at my head. Tossed my ice ax away and jumped backward. The rock missed, but in dodging, I lost balance and fell downhill slamming my ribs on something very hard. It was hard enough to knock all the wind out of me, and my speechlessness caused the others to fear I was near death.

Because I couldn’t move for a few minutes while recovering, planning began among the survivors as to how best to handle the situation. It took a short time for me to realize the Gang members talking and hovering above me were jockeying for assignments. The best job appeared to be going to the car and driving to St. Mary Ranger Station to either call out the mountain rescue rangers, get the ALERT copter, or sit and drink “refreshments” at Black’s place until the coroner got there.

They all seemed relieved when I eventually was able to stand and determine I could make it down on my own. The rescue planning appeared to be over.

It was three miles to the car, and after a while we sat down to rest and view the scenery at the upper edge of Two Dog Flats. That’s when Jack popped the question. “George, if you hadn’t been able to walk away from that deal up there, who would you rather have drive your nice car out for help…an ex-Navy flight instructor with 40 years of safe driving under his belt…or some average old auto jockey.?”

All the bills aren’t in yet, but it looks like a loose rock fall could run around a hundred and fifty bucks. A regular family physician is no longer considered capable of reading X-rays, so that part is done by a Doctor of Radiology. He doesn’t tape ribs, prescribe medication or take your blood pressure. He just looks at the pictures. This apparently helps take the pressure off the family doc in the case of malpractice lawsuits. If we want to account for a lot of the increase in medical costs we should take a good look at the juries who make those astronomical awards in medical suits.

My radiologist did make me feel better by saying, “You’ve got some good looking lungs for a matured person of our age.” No one has ever said that to me before.

As for Jack, I told him he could be my emergency car driver because I’m an Army man, and if I ever need rescuing up there on some lonely mountain, I don’t want to lie there waiting in pain, listening to a lot of hot shot Navy flying yarns.