The story
actually starts a few weeks prior to my woodland walk when I stopped at a diner
in the little town of Cuba on my way back to Albuquerque from visiting some
friends further north. As I headed for a
seat at the counter, I noticed an older gentleman sitting there and the words
“Butler, PA” caught my eye on the back of his jacket. I straddled the stool next to him, placed my
order for a slice of pie and cup of coffee, and then asked the man about his
connection to Pennsylvania while explaining to him that it was my home
state. He was a friendly gentleman and explained
that he used to work at a radio station back there. Then when the waitress brought my order, he
introduced me to his wife and said he liked to come to the diner and spend a
little time with her while she worked.
We continued
to chat and exchange information about our lives and eventually, the
conversation turned to my enthusiasm to explore these rugged mountains of the
Continental Divide. This is when my new
friend gave me a list of advice about heading into those mountains. He explained that these mountains were very
different than what I was used to in PA and how that more than once he’s had to
head into the hills to pull out some over-enthusiastic and uninformed east
coast individual that has managed to get themselves stranded. Rule one was never to go into the mountains
without a CB radio – this was 1986 and the cell phones weren’t commonplace like
now – and that way I could always call him for help if it was needed and he
provided his CB call sign. Rule two was
that I shouldn’t go out there alone because there were dangers, especially from
stalking mountain lions. Rule three was
to be aware that the roads in these mountains were often impassable during bad
weather or winter conditions and to heed the warning signs posted at the
beginning of such roads. He also
explained that many of the roads had springs that arose in wet conditions right
on the roadway and they could wash out sections of the road or you could be driving
along and sink right into one of the springs.
I finished my pie and coffee, thanked him for the company and conversation
and then waved good-bye to him and his wife. 
As I turned
onto the forest service road, I noticed one of those warning signs about the
road possibly being impassable during winter conditions. You know, the do not attempt without 4 wheel
drive and please turn back kind of signs that you know if you ignore you’re headed
for trouble. For a brief moment I
remembered my conversation in the diner and the gentleman’s warnings, but hey,
I’ll be alright. There isn’t that much
snow on the ground and it’s getting dark and below freezing, so all the water
will be solid anyway. Besides, this
looks like a pretty well maintained forest service road and it’s only a mile or
so up to the lake, so if it starts looking bad there, then I’ll turn
around. It’s amazing how youthful
inexperience can talk you into doing the stupidest of things.
Well, things
were fine for a while. I came across a
parking area with a port-a-potty and got out of the car assuming that this was
where the lake could be found. I walked
around and looked in every direction but could not see any lake. Finally, I got back in the car thinking that
maybe I hadn’t gone far enough. The sun
was setting and the road conditions weren’t bad; there was a light layer of
compacted and frozen snow with those occasional frozen puddles that form in the
tire tracks. I could hear the cracking
and crunching of the ice as my wheels passed over them, but believed that
shortly the temperatures would freeze these little puddles solid and I wouldn’t
even notice them. Still, I knew enough
to be cautious about sliding on the ice and turned my high beams on to watch
for deer or elk crossing the roadway.
It was
beautiful even in the dark with the ice crystals glittering in my headlights
and towering pines lining my path. I was
now totally absorbed in scanning the edge of the roadway for any sign of life
and was enjoying myself immensely. I
barely noticed the crackling ice anymore and paid no attention whatsoever to
how many miles I had driven. There were
no road signs and I didn’t have a care in the world. Until… (you knew it was coming.)
There was a
crack followed by a thud as my car suddenly descended into a hole in the
road. I sat there spinning my wheels and
attempting to get myself free alternating between reverse and drive to no
avail. So, I placed the car in park and
got out to take a better look at my situation.
I swung my leg out the door and planted it on what looked like solid
ground, but as I leaned forward and brought the other leg out of the car, the
ice gave way and I found myself standing nearly knee deep in freezing
water. I climbed out of the water and
using the light from my headlamps and taillights assessed the situation while trying
to watch out for anymore unexpected pools of water. At one point, I thought maybe if I could place some fallen branches under the tires, I might get enough traction for the car to climb out of the hole. So I grabbed my first branch and poked it under the right rear wheel, only to discover that it just sank deeper and deeper into mud. It was obvious rather quickly that I had no way to get the car out of the hole. It was cold, dark and I wasn’t even sure how far into the mountains I had traveled. I had no way to communicate with anyone for help, so I knew I was going to spend the night in my car.
The next
step, of course, was to assess what I did have that would be helpful for my
night’s stay. In the bed of my
hatchback were a synthetic sleeping bag and a faux fur coat. I had about ¼ tank of gas, so I would have
to conserve fuel to stay warm and turn off the lights to conserve the battery
power. My feet were freezing and I knew
I needed to get warm and dry to avoid hyperthermia, so I got back in the car
and took of my sneakers and socks and started trying to dry them using the
car’s heater. I gave up on the shoes
early and focused more on my socks and getting the lower part of my jeans drier. After about an hour of drying, I shut the
heater off because it was getting way too warm inside the car for my comfort,
but I didn’t want to let too much heat out the window as I knew it would cool
down quickly with the temperature outside dipping lower.
So, I took
one last look through my steam up front windshield at the world outside, turned
off the headlights and crawled into the sleeping bag in the back seat. I used the faux fur as a pillow and lay there
mesmerized by the stillness and quiet of this winter wonderland. I thought about how I was going to get myself
out of this situation and knew that the only logical thing to do was to work my
way back into Cuba, hopefully find the gentleman who I had met earlier and
humbly ask for his help. All I had was
his and his wife’s first names, but I knew where she worked and I knew small
towns…everybody knows everybody, so it shouldn’t be too hard to locate
them.
In the
meantime, there was nothing I could do, but wait until morning. I wasn’t scared and looking out into the
darkness, I noticed that the stars were shining so very brightly above the
trees that it almost seemed you could reach out and touch them. I actually felt very peaceful and thankful to
be able to spend time in such a beautiful place. I said a prayer of thanks and asked for favor
and guidance for the next day’s journey and went to sleep comfortable, warm and
satisfied.
The windows
were also totally frosted over, so I couldn’t see anything outside the car but
there was enough light seeping through to know it was daylight outside. That’s when that funny little feeling of slight
paranoia and fear grabbed me. Not
knowing what might be outside, your eyes widen, your breath deepens, your heart
starts quickening and your imagination starts playing games with your rational
mind. I wanted to open the window or door to get
some fresh air, but didn’t know what might be waiting right outside. I shifted the heater vents to start
defrosting the front window and hoped that the noise of the car might scare any
lurking creatures away. Finally, that
small round hole of melted ice appears; you switch on the wipers to aid in
widening the visible area. “Ah, good,” and
a you let out a sigh of relief when you are finally able to peer out and see
there is nothing looking back at you.
After the
shoes were warmed enough to be flexible, although not dry, I forced my feet
into them and rolled the driver’s side window down slowly. Oh, that fresh air felt so good. Another look around to be sure nothing is
waiting to startle me and I opened the door.
This time, I’m much more tentative about my feet placement, but realized
that my original theory of the ice freezing solid over night was correct. I even stomped on it to be sure I wasn’t
going to take another dive into those icy waters.
I get out of
the car and it is absolutely gorgeous outside.
The sun is shining brightly and promising to warm the day. The sky is blue, the air is crisp and clean,
and I am standing in the most crystalline pure environment that I have ever
seen. I stood there in wonderment and
took several deep breaths as if I could draw this pureness into myself. Then I walked around the car only to find
that it was now incased in a block of ice nearly up to its axles. Yep, there is no way I was getting it out on
my own, so I had better get moving to find some help. Which way?
Do I go back toward Cuba or have I come so far that it would be closer
to continue forward to help? Without
keeping track of the mileage, I wasn’t sure where I was on the map, so I prayed
for guidance and decided to head forward.
A turkey
gobbled in the distance in response to the closing car door. The sound seemed foreign and like an invasion
on the peace that was over the woods. I
locked the doors and headed down the road basking in the beauty that surrounded
me and thinking about how much time I had to fix the my situation. I had to be at work in the city the next
morning and that was still about a 2 hour drive away. The stillness was so serene that it was easy
to think there; no distractions from televisions, phones or appliances. Not a sound could be heard but the crunching
of my feet on the frozen ground and an occasional song bird announcing the new
day.
Guessing
mileage based on my average walking speed, I would say I had covered about 2
miles when something big went crashing off through the forest to my right. I only saw the underbrush moving as this
large creature took flight from my presence, but my best guess was that it was
either an elk or a bear. I briefly
thought about climbing down that side of the road to go look for tracks to
satisfy my curiosity, but wisely decided against it, telling myself to stay
focused on the task at hand.
Another
couple of miles and I started to hear a faint mechanical sound drifting on the
breeze. No doubt about it, there was
someone ahead operating some kind of machinery.
The sun was much higher in the sky now and despite the dampness of my
shoes, I was keeping fairly warm despite having no hat or gloves and wearing
only my high school jacket, semi-damp jeans and a sweatshirt. The roadway was fairly level with no major
changes in elevation and the snow and ice were starting to melt again under the
sun’s warmth. I was very happy and
content and enjoying every moment of my walk in the woods.
About 11:30
am, I finally discovered the source of the machine noise as I came across a
small logging camp with about a half dozen men in it. They had a fire going and allowed me to warm
up there as I explained my situation.
Though they spoke Spanish to each other, at least two of the men spoke
English well enough to let me know that they would try to pull my car out once
they went on their lunch break. So,
about 30 minutes later, three of us hopped into a four wheel drive truck and
started making our way back to where I started that morning.
It was a lot
easier walking than it was riding in that truck. As the sun warmed the road, it became a
slushy, slippery mess and twice we got the truck stuck. The first time, the guys had to get out and
cut some limbs to place under the wheels for traction before we could
continue. The second time, we slid part
way off the road and had to winch the truck back up onto the roadway. The owner of the truck decided at that point
to give up. He wasn’t willing to risk
continuing on with the conditions and I couldn’t blame him. So, at the next area wide enough to get
turned around, we headed back to the camp.
The other
logger who was in the truck said that he would be going home for lunch and
would drop me off in the town of Coyote at the gas station where I could
possibly get help or a ride into Cuba which was about 5 miles away. This was agreeable to me as it got me closer
to my goal and I would not have any problem walking the 5 miles before
sunset. So, once he dropped me at the
gas station, I walked in and bought myself a snack cake and a drink for my brunch
with the couple dollars I had on me and started walking toward Cuba.
I had barely
moved a 100 yards down the road, when a lady with a couple kids pulled over and
asked if I needed a ride. I quickly
explained my situation and that I needed to get to Cuba. She said that if I didn’t mind waiting about
a half hour or so, she would give me a ride.
Well, of course, I accepted her offer as I certainly wasn’t going to
walk to Cuba that quickly, so I went with her to her house which had an added
surprise waiting for me. As it turns
out, this was the wife and home of the logger who had given me the ride into
the gas station. He was as shocked as I
was when I entered the house.
The entire
household spoke Spanish except when speaking directly to me. They took my wet sneakers and started drying
them by the fire of the stove. The
oldest daughter ransacked her room looking for some other shoes for me to wear
in the meantime and finally came up with a pair of pink, jelly shoes as the
only thing that would stretch big enough to fit me. They served me a meal of beans, tortillas and
coffee which was absolutely delicious and I was amazed not only by their
generosity and kindness, but that I was getting a glimpse into a culture that,
at that stage of my life, was fairly foreign to me. All I could think was “Wow, this day just keeps
getting better and better.”
We pulled
into the driveway of a mobile home on the south side of town and the woman
waited as I went to the door to be sure they were home. Once the front door opened, the women waved
to each other and the gentleman’s wife invited me in. I humbly told her what I had done and that
her husband offered to help me if I ever needed it. She explained that he was in the shower and
that I would have to wait a few minutes.
This, of course, made me feel terrible, as I knew that getting the car
out of the mud, snow and ice would not be a clean process and who wants to get
dirty, wet and cold after just taking a nice warm shower?
After a few
minutes, the gentleman emerged with his still wet, but combed hair with a bit
of disgust on his face. He asked how far
up into the mountains had I gone and I told him that I wasn’t sure, but that I
had headed up to see the lake and when I couldn’t find it, had continued
on. He said, “You can’t see the lake
from the road; you have to hike about a mile or so from the parking area to get
to it.” He donned a hat and coat and all
three of us got in his truck to begin the journey back into the mountains. The sun was beginning to set and there was
almost a sensation of deja vue as it had been a full 24 hours from the time I
first decided to make the turn to the lake.
During the
ride, the gentleman proceeded to give me the didn’t-I-tell-you lecture which I
had anticipated receiving from him. I
sat there quietly and occasionally answered “Yes, sir” while feeling like I was
twelve and being lectured by my grandfather.
I had absolutely no leg to stand on though, so I took the tongue-lashing
with no rebuttal in my defense. He
wasn’t excessively harsh about it and eventually, we joked about giving me the
CB handle of Pennsylvania Mud Puppy.
Finally, we
arrived at the car and he was able to wrap a chain around the rear axle and
pull me out. Turns out the car did not
have a single wheel touching a solid surface but was balanced on the
undercarriage. The kind couple took the
lead and I followed feeling good about the problem being solved. A short while down the road, they
stopped. The gentleman got out of his
truck, came back to my car and said, “I suppose you haven’t had much to eat
today, have you?” I told him about my
brunch at the gas station and lunch at the logger’s house. He said, “Follow me back to our house before
you head back to the city.” So, I did
and when we arrived, they invited me in and served up some cheese, summer
sausage and crackers to eat while we socialized a while longer. About 8:30, I finally said my good-byes, thanked
them again and drove back to Albuquerque.
Now, here I
am, 26 years later, a little older and a hopefully a little wiser. Winter in the mountains can be a deadly
situation and I certainly have no intention of taking the same foolish risks as
I did back then. Still, I can’t say that
I didn’t enjoy the experience of that day & night in those mountains. I had a lot of peace within and was not
riddled with worry. Maybe it’s because
I’m more optimistic than most. Some
would say I’m just darn lucky and totally naïve to the possibilities that could
befall me.
But me, I
wonder. I wonder if fear of the
possibilities keeps the many from living and having some of the most
wonderful experiences in life. I wonder
at the people who give so generously of themselves to help a stranger. I wonder at the beauty that God has created.
I wonder as
I wander.
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!!
