Nah, you would do just fine.
I am going to the ortho on Tuesday to discuss treatment options for my left knee. I had a really bad dark-of-night wreck on the steep face of a New Mexico canyon in late October, fully loaded with a bone-in hind quarter, all my day gear, some extra production gear, and ended up down in a brush pile with the entire load pushing my torso over my prone right knee while my left foot was up by my left ear. Like Tyler, I've been walking around like Chester on Gunsmoke since then.
When Schmalts joined us in Wyoming, he was probably thinking we were trying to get high on Ibuprofen. We were limping, falling, stumbling, and cussing as we tried our best to negotiate the terrain on what would be the last mountain hunt of the season. By the end of Day Two, after 14 miles, I told the crew I could not do another day like that. I did not hear any protests. Being a great friend, Schmalts shot his bull less than a half-mile from the trailhead, for which we were grateful.
.