Mass Failure, continued from page 10


absolutely no attention to what was going on around him, especially on the route we were taking, did make me nervous. We found the


slide without problem and had things pretty well sized-up by mid- afternoon. The surface layer had simply slid down the mountain with some obvi- ous “wave-like” features and a few cracks and bumps, otherwise the surface ap- peared amazingly undisturbed consider- ing how far the mass of earth had moved. Some sizeable stands of aspen, spruce


and white bark pine had slid a significant distance. Other than a distinct list to the uphill side, many of them looked as though they would actually survive the event. My opinion was that the best treatment would be to simply leave things alone and let Nature put everything back together. By the time we had ridden around the area, I realized that Strider and I would be late for supper if we didn’t get headed back for the truck. We topped the main ridge on the Snow Crest Mountains without problem and headed down the section of new trail.


The tread that had been undermined by pocket gophers kept collapsing under Strider’s hooves as we went down the trail and the steep slope to the right was pretty intimidating to me. Strider appeared pretty oblivious to the whole affair. I was starting to dismount to lead


my obviously-untrustworthy steed when both of Strider’s right (downhill) hooves sank into gopher holes. Strider somewhat nonchalantly started to fall downhill, so I bailed off on the uphill side and made a pretty hard, three-point landing on both cheeks of my backside and my right hand. I held onto the reins in an effort to keep Strider from falling clear off the mountain. It was a long, steep ways to the bottom.


Strider made one complete roll with


me holding his head uphill and came around with his rump down slope. He jumped to his feet and bolted back onto the trail like he was amazed at the whole affair. About the time the dust settled, I


noted that my right hand felt strange. I didn’t have to look too close to note that the middle finger on my right hand was twice as fat and half as long as it should have been. I tried pulling on the end of


the finger to correct the undeniable dislocation. I shouldn’t have tried that! I managed to get the wrong ball centered on the wrong socket which created a very crooked and painful finger. Strider and I jogged to the base of the hill where


I mounted and ran him back to the truck. We arrived back in Dillon at about 6:30 and I drove directly to my friend Dr. Ron Loge’s office. His receptionist indicated they were


trying to close things down when I came in. I showed her my finger and she de- cided they might make an exception. Ron shook his head and diagnosed,


“Dan, you have to stop doing these things to yourself. Your medical chart is starting to look like a Bat Man Comic Book: you know — Slam, Bam, Pow.” He was right of course. I seem to at-


tract such events for some reason. Ron indicated a person should start


above a dislocation and work downward to push the joint into the correct position instead of trying to pull it. Unfortunately, the muscles had had


too much time to stiffen up in this in- stance. Ron injected all sorts of pain killers and proceeded to push, pull, pound and otherwise manipulate the wayward ap- pendage until it finally snapped into place. “Now, keep your finger elevated and the pain should go down in a few days,” he directed.


I hoisted the finger about shoulder


high and observed: “Ron, I could get my nose dislocated if I go around with the middle finger of my right hand held up like this!”


“I see your problem,” Ron noted,


and taped my three middle fingers to- gether to modify the gesture. It had been a long day.


Freelance writer, Dan Pence, grew up


in central Idaho and spent 35 years working for the U.S. Forest Service in Idaho, Nevada and Montana. He wrote a collection of col- orful anecdotes, titled “Horses, Mules, Men & Mountains,” and his new book, “The Fellowship of Fire,” will be released soon. For copies, contact the author at 406-683-4669; dlpence@bresnan.net.


34 ROCKY MOUNTAIN RIDER • MARCH 2011


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