Stephen kurczy a very, very stable genius anoxic brain damage recovery stories

Oh, the irony. severe anoxic brain injury survivor stories On the same day that the Washington Post called Vermont’s four-mile-long Colchester Causeway “one of the country’s most spectacular bike trails,” a May storm devastated this thin spit of land that dissects the waters of Lake Champlain, rendering it impassable… and throwing a wrench into plans for an upcoming bicycle tour through Vermont.

The situation looked somewhat dire, with officials estimating a half-million dollars in damage to the Causeway and projecting months of necessary repairs. But all hope wasn’t lost: There were two months before our multi-day bike trip, which we had timed to coincide with Jenna’s birthday in early July. anoxia definicion And I was going to bike the Colchester Causeway by force of will, if I had to.

On July 4, while many Americans gathered around barbecues, lit up sparklers, and injured themselves in fireworks accidents, we drove to our friends’ home in Hinesberg, Vermont, to embark on a three-day, 180-mile tour through the Green Mountains and along Lake Champlain—full of beautiful roads, high mountain passes, quaint country marts, and the best creemees in the world (also, the only creemees in the world).

The ride began with the hardest bicycling of the entire trip: pedaling up and over the Appalachian Gap (elevation 2,375 ft), a several-miles-long mountain pass with a steady steepness of 15 percent. It’s so steep, in fact, that the ski resort Mad River Glen runs parallel to the road. anoxia refers to We were essentially bicycling up and down a black diamond ski trail.

From App Gap, it was a breezy downhill to Waitsfield, where we refilled our water bottles at Stark Mountain Bike Works and took shade on their porch from the intense heat that was building up. It was turning into a scorcher: 90 degrees F, with a heat index above 100.

From here, it was another 15 miles over the tourism-congested roads of Waterbury Center to Stowe, then up the looooong mountain road to Smuggler’s Notch State Park, where we camped after a cooling plunge in the nearby watering hole of Bingham Falls.

It took me about 10 minutes to build up the nerve to make the above leap into Bingham Falls, in part because I needed a running start to clear several boulders. I would have backed down from the 40-foot-jump, but I felt peer-pressured by a teenage girl who climbed up two times and jumped twice in the time that I was waffling on the edge of the rocks.

For the second day in a row, our route was front-loaded with a big uphill. anxiety test free This morning, we were pedaling up Smuggler’s Notch (elevation 2,170 ft) in the shadow of Mount Mansfield ( which we’d hiked up a few months earlier in knee-deep snow). It was a series of steep, narrow switchbacks along a single-lane road.

…and stopped for lunch in Bakersfield at the Village Deli, which served the biggest, cheapest creemees and hoagies that I’ve ever encountered. hypoxic and anoxic brain injury Our foot-long-sandwich was easily 18 inches long, and our creemee was so huge that it was served in a small bucket.

We still had a lot of bicycling: 20 miles to St. Albans Town, then another 15 miles to the Missisquoi National Wildlife Refuge (about 5 miles south of the Canadian border), and another 15 miles south to North Hero Island, where we could stay with our Hinesberg friends’ parents. (We would also be on the lookout for sightings of Sen. Bernie Sanders, who recently purchased a $600,000 summer home there.)

As we reached our destination, Jenna wiped out in the middle of the road. For a birthday gift, I’d given her clip-in pedals and clip-in shoes—which seemed like a nice gift, but was perhaps somewhat sabotaging because she’d never before bicycled with clip-ins. As she pulled to a sudden stop, she was unable to speedily unclip, falling sideways and bloodying her knee. westside test anxiety scale pdf Happy birthday, Jenna!

The Causeway met expectations: The 4-mile-long, 10-foot-wide, gravel path through the middle of Lake Champlain was serene and somewhat surreal—this kind of thing just doesn’t exist anywhere else (to my knowledge). Vermont’s Green Mountains were on our left, New York’s Adirondacks were on our right, and water was all around.