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Back about forty years ago, I was doing my usual wandering hunting all alone out in the middle of nowhere. I'd climbed up a very steep slope onto a mesa top, eyeballing for Bambi. The mesa top was thick with lecheguilla, a sharp-pointed agave-looking bundle of Ouch. (Locally known as "It'll gitcha.")
A rock rolled under my foot and a lecheguilla stalk's point came right through the tongue of my boot, just above the ankle. Instant paralysis in that ankle and foot. Not all that much pain, but things had quit working. So there I was, some three miles from my old VW bus, and a rifle is a lousy crutch.
Halfway smart, I found a rock on which to sit, and just waited. After about fifteen minutes, things began to return to normal. Not much longer and I was back walking--but a lot more carefully.
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