Accidents do Happen

While skiing at Big Bear with my varsity scouts on 2/27/2010, just a few days after my 42nd birthday, at approximately 3:00pm I blew out my knee. Turns out it was a complete ACL rupture in the left knee.

The day was a perfect day for the hard core skier. This photo left to right has Ben Memmott (scout advisor), Weston Joyce and Jadon Neuendorf (age 14 and 15). Don't let the age fool you. These boys board like they were born and raised in Park City, Utah. True powder hounds.

It was snowing an inch an hour and the snow was deep and untracked. Visibility was quite poor but any snowhound worth his salt could simply "feel" their way down the mountain. I was skiing with Weston Joyce and Jadon Neuendorf (aka "The Wreckin' Crew") who are my 2 varsity scouts under my tutelage. Two California snowboarders who can really rip, true tree mongers who like big air and deep powder. Giving us a round number of 4 was Ben Memmott, my co-leader and former Utah boarder who was loving the fresh California powder.

A lethal combination of great snow and poor visibility buttressed by a desire to catch big air was my downfall - literally. I came ripping through the trees around 3 pm just to the right of Jadon. I pulled a 360 just one run earlier and was feeling pretty good - age 42 and I still got it. As I barreled down the trees I neared the main run by the bottom of the lift 4. Photo to the right was taken just after the yard-sale that happened just up the mountain from the base of 4.

I looked down and eyed a nice little rock that I could launch off. As I flew in the air I then realized I had more air and more speed than anticipated and I prepared for landing. The problem was that I flew over my sloped landing and instead dropped right onto the flat hard-pack. I landed awkward and my skis shot out from under me. No big deal, happens all the time, right? Not this time. My right ski popped off with ease but my left ski binding didn't release. In slow motion I fell backwards and my body twisted right but my ski boot firmly attached to the ski stayed fixed. The sequence of events was an audible "pop" coming from my left knee, almost a crunch rather than a pop, then accompanied by a direct and intense pain in my knee. The pain was such that initially it literally took my breath away. Granted that I'm a self-proclaimed and widely known wimp, this was pain that would make even the toughest of men cry. I grabbed my knee and silently sobbed but outwardly screamed out that I was hurt. People on the ski lift were asking if I was okay. I couldn't answer because too many four lettered words were delicately teetering on the tip of my tongue and any attempt to speak would have sent them flying. I tried to walk it off thinking the pain was just temporary but deep down I knew I was hurt badly. I told the others to stay and ski while I wait for them in the lodge. I skied down and every passing minute my knee hurt worse and worse succeeded by massive swelling. I knew I was toast. Went to the orthopedic surgeon's office on Monday and after an MRI it was confirmed that my ACL was completely ruptured, torn in two, nothing left. Immediately I started to mentally prepare for surgery and this is my day-to-day account of my ACL surgery and rehab.