Sunday, July 22, 2018

More Stuff

A couple nights ago a lady pulls up by herself looking for directions to Chicken Corner. I give them to her and tell her she has time to get there and back before dark. Still she lingers in the parking lot so I walk her out to her Jeep. She drives off slowly.

Back inside Linny says "I don't think she wanted to leave." I said "Yea, something was up. Maybe she'll come back by on her way out." At dark I look up on Hurrah and there's a Jeep. Linny says it's not the same color, it's not her. We haven't seen her leave our area yet.

As Linny heads for her room to sleep I look up on Hurrah and see barely the outline of a Jeep and somebody walking around with a lantern or flashlight. I tell Linny we probably shouldn't leave her out there by herself so we drive up to Hurrah but when we get there, nobody is there. We drive back down to the Base Camp sign and do some detective work. We can see her tracks leaving the lodge toward Chicken Corner but not coming back and it's midnight now.

I turn the engine off. It's time to decide. The evidence tells us she's still out there but how does it feel? For five minutes neither one of us talks trying to read the desert and canyons. I don't feel distress out there anywhere. I think some how they would tell us. We would feel it.

Linny says "It feels like she's alright." I said "Yes it does." She drove here from Alabama by herself. She was going to Chicken Corner by herself. The jeep had lots of gear in it, she was prepared. She had the look like she had it together. We decided to go out to the first creek bed where most people that are going to get lost, do get lost to see if our gut is right. She's not there but a big wash out that had never been there before I almost drove off in the dark.

When we got back to the lodge we drew a line across the road dragging Linny's foot and when I went hiking in the morning her tracks were across it. She made it fine.

Saturday night guests haven't show up yet and it's 10pm. They called at 2pm to say they were coming in from Salt Lake so they should have at worst been here by 7pm or so. When they called I offered directions but they were confident they knew the way. Because we've heard nothing since we're not going looking. If we'd have got a "we're on the way out" and they didn't show we'd be out looking.

Linny goes to bed. I'm turning off lights, feed the last few foxes and skunks, and headed for my room. I hear a faint "Tom" coming from somewhere out in the nights. There it is again. I step out on the porch and a man and woman with two large dogs are coming up the driveway and they are beat up.

I say "I'm Tom". Huge relief pours over their faces. I fill up the water bowl and give them both waters. Knock on Linny's door and say "Something is up." Linny steps out onto the porch.

"We turned down Kane Creek Canyon and tore our vehicle up. We have two flat tires and damage to the vehicle." I say "That's six miles from here. You walked that in the dark with the dogs?" At the same time they both said "With no water."

We load everybody up in the truck and drive to the Kane Creek Canyon intersection on the other side of Hurrah Pass. They load up all their stuff and we drop them in the hogan for the night. Pretty gutty. Lot of heart.


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