August 22nd, 2012. Elizabeth nearly died yesterday.

We decided to go hiking on a small trail just south of Race Brook called Sages Ravine. After following the path for about a half-mile, we got to a stream and decided to follow that instead. Where we entered, the stream was shallow and easy to traverse. But it very quickly changed into a series of small waterfalls and pools surrounded by steep rocky banks. I wanted to keep going, even though Elizabeth was reluctant. We ditched our wallets, phones and bags and climbed further up the stream. I led the way and helped Elizabeth clamber up after me. The waterfalls became steeper and higher and the steep rocky banks had become a deep ravine with walls 40 feet high. We crested the last waterfall just before 4 p.m. and began to descend. As we did, Elizabeth decided to take a different route down. Though my route was rocky and steep, it was also lower down. Elizabeth stayed on the opposite bank of the stream and climbed all the way up the wall of the ravine using saplings and rocks to support her weight. She started to take a shortcut across the lip of the ravine and the path looked treacherous. I yelled up to her that she should go farther up and over the top to be safe. She continued on the shortcut she had chosen, and I thought to myself,"What if she fell? What would be the consequences to my life, and hers, and those of her family?" I was still concentrating on climbing down, and still thinking about the ramifications of a fall out here when I heard her scream. I jerked my eyes upward and saw her hands and feet slip from their purchase far above my head. She fell backwards and hit the moss-covered wall of the ravine on her way down, somersaulting backwards as she plummeted. She landed on the rocks next to the stream on the back of her head, with her torso curled above her. After a split second of silence, Elizabeth let out an animal sound between a scream and a moan and began convulsing. I could see she was bleeding profusely from the head and nose and I knew that the injury was far beyond my ability to tend to. I ran for my phone. Our bags were several hundred yards away I'd guess, but in my adrenaline-fueled state I jumped the next several waterfalls and reached the location in a matter of seconds. I had to keep screaming her name so she would hear and know that I was not just abandoning her, that I was trying to bring help. I immediately dialled 911, but the male voice on the other end was choppy and kept asking me to repeat myself. The line disconnected. I called again, and a woman answered the line. She transferred me to Suffield police station when I asked for Sheffield. FUCK! I imagined Elizabeth bleeding out alone in the woods. I made one final call as I began to run back up the mountain, along the side of the ravine this time. The call connected. Transfer me to Sheffield, MA police station NOW! I shouted at the woman. She apparently remembered me from before, and transferred me without delay. I explained the situation in a hoarse voice to the officer in Sheffield. He said that all units would be coming straight to my location. Stay on the line, were his final orders. I finally reached the spot up on the mountain above the ravine where I thought Elizabeth might have fallen. I screamed her name a few more times and began to descend.

Before I could see her, I heard her sobbing. Ive never been so relieved to hear those sounds of anguish. She was alive. I finally reached the bottom and found her sitting upright near the blood-spattered logs that had borne the brunt of her impact a few minutes before. She looked at me and asked: Did I fall? I was so shaken I had to laugh. I told her that, yes, she had fallen, but that she was going to be alright. The next hour and a half passed in agonizing slowness. Elizabeth and I were seated on a rock by the stream. Remembering my Red Cross lifeguard training, I made her sit straight and keep still in case of a spinal injury. She kept asking me if this was real, if it wasnt a dream. I assured her that this was the most real things ever got. She kept asking what day it was. The first few times I answered Tuesday, August 21st, 2012, but she must have retained some idea of the date because she wouldnt believe me when I tried to convince her that it was 1961. The worst problems were that she was very cold, and her nose kept bleeding steadily. I was shivering as well, but I decided to give her my socks and shoes (that I had put on while calling 911) in order to keep her as comfortable as possible while the cavalry came. While we waited I informed my parents and Elizabeths mom of our situation and they came at once, waiting on the road at the bottom of the mountain for the entire evening. Elizabeth kept insisting that we get up and go back to her car to drive home. She said she was cold and there was no reason to stay in the woods. She was so convinced she was fine that, had I not seen that insane fall, I might have agreed we should leave. Finally the EMTs arrived. They spoke with us, gave us water, and strapped Elizabeth to a stretcher. I sat with her, talking to her and the volunteers, as they gave her an IV and covered her in thermal blankets. A ropes team arrived next to try and get her up out of the ravine on a pulley system. That was quickly deemed impossibly difficult and they decided to call in a helicopter (from the National Guard unit, I think) to lift her out. They cut down a few trees to clear space for the chopper, and as it began to arrive (around 8 p.m.) they told me to leave. I walked down the mountain with both our bags, back to the EMT base camp. There, Mom, Dad and Sarah (Elizabeths mom) were waiting. I hugged them all and related the bare facts of the story, trying to omit as many details as possible so they wouldnt worry until we knew exactly how bad it was. We overheard that the helicopter had been unsuccessful in picking up the stretcher and that Elizabeth was being brought down the stream by a team of men. Around nine she was finally out and getting airlifted to Albany Hospital. We all decided to go home and get some hot food and rest. Definitely the most traumatic event of the summer! I know shell be alright, but I think we were both extremely lucky to walk out of there alive. If she had landed on the rocks instead of that lone branch... I cant imagine.