The next morning after Darren’s party, we planned to go backpacking with Darren. We waited while he went to church, but then when he texted us that he was going to go out to lunch with his dad and stepmom, we decided we would go on ahead and meet him out there. We had already checked out of our Airbnb and we didn’t really have anywhere else to go.
So we headed out of town toward the mountains while I texted him maps and directions of where to go.
But then we got a text back that made it sound like he wanted us to wait for him. He wrote, “I’ll probably get lost. I got lost yesterday trying to find Walmart with google maps giving me directions.”
By that time we had gone a ways out of town, so I texted him back, telling him that it would be fine, it was easy to find, etc. But before we got his response, we suddenly lost cell tower. Assuming we would have cell tower in the next town, we kept driving. Except the next town didn’t have cell tower.
By this time I was feeling bad, because Darren had never actually agreed to meet us out there, and the last we had heard was he wanted us to wait for him. I just had a bad feeling about it all. We considered turning around, but by that time we were an hour’s drive out. So we kept going.
Eventually we got to a little mountain town where our turnoff was, and it was a complete and total madhouse. Cars everywhere, the “T” intersection blocked in all 3 directions for as far as they eye could see. We had just managed to turn right onto our side road when we instantly regretted it. A big sign said the road was closed up ahead! Was it really closed? Why would the road be closed? Was it closed between us and our destination, or closed somewhere further on?
The line of cars snaking down out of the mountains disappeared around the bend. John, who is a very polite Minnesotan, was going to drive up the closed road into the mountains to take our place at the end of the line. But there was no telling how long it was! That back-up could have gone on for miles. It didn’t make any sense to me to be deliberately driving up a closed road!
So I asked John to let me drive. I blocked the entire road getting that big van turned around, and then squeezed into the line just a few cars before the intersection. Next we had a difficult left hand turn. There were no gaps in traffic at all. But we couldn’t sit there all day, not with an enormous line of traffic behind us, all trying to get down out of the mountains. So I just had to pretend I was in a less traffic-rule-oriented country and shove my way into the cross traffic.
Once we were safely on our way back, I was doubly worried about Darren. What was going to happen when he got to that intersection? He would have no cell tower and no way to contact us. Would he even see the “road closed” sign? Would he have any idea where we went? Would he be able to get turned around? He’s not as aggressive a driver as I am. Even John hadn’t wanted to deal with that gridlock. I felt absolutely terrible. Darren had asked us to wait for him, and we didn’t, and look what I got us into.
John and I didn’t have any cell tower with our personal cell phones, but John had occasional, slight blips of coverage with his work cell. As I was driving back down out of the mountains toward Boise, he concentrated on his phone, asking me to pull over whenever he saw a bar of coverage, so he could try to get a text out to Darren. So I’d pull over, but I was reluctant to stay idling for very long because we were out of time.
I assumed that Darren was following us about an hour behind. I knew he was going to lose his cell tower at any second, as he headed into the mountains. We had to reach him before he got too far and lost cell tower!
Finally, after multiple texts and voicemails, John reached him. I was unbelievably relieved. It turns out Darren was still near Boise and had cell tower, but he had a “do not disturb” function on his phone while driving.
I’m all supportive of not using the phone while driving. I’m particularly supportive of my own kids not using the phone while driving! But there have been few times in my life when I have been so desperate to get ahold of somebody. I just couldn’t imagine Darren out in that chaotic intersection in middle of the mountains, wondering if the road was really actually closed, having no idea where we went, and having no way to easily get turned around to head home, and having no idea what to do next. And it was all my fault.
Turns out, Darren had initially been so annoyed with us for leaving him behind that he had texted back saying he wasn’t going. But the text bounced back undelivered, because we had no cell tower. When he realized we didn’t get his message, he decided he had better go after all, or else we would have out there with no cell tower waiting for him, worrying sick about where he was. So he had reluctantly started out, later than I realized, which was the only reason we were able to catch him before he had gone far enough to lose cell tower.
What did we used to do before cell phones? (I remember years ago waiting for several hours for my brother – at the wrong McDonalds – in a little tiny town at the foot of the mountains in Oregon. It never occurred to either of us that the little one-stoplight town had TWO McDonalds.)
We met back at Darren’s house and debated what to do. We looked online and discovered the road was closed due to a fire to the north. However, our destination was nowhere near the fire, and could also be accessed from a southern route. So we decided to go back out and try again, taking the southern route, this time with Darren following closely behind.
Due to our late (second) start, we only backpacked in one mile, and set up camp quite close to the trail, just as soon as we had crossed into the wilderness area.
The next day we hiked further up the trail and found a better spot farther from the trail and closer to the creek.
We always pack a hammock. It was well used, despite the swarming mosquitos in the entire region.
Here is an example of the steep & narrow “V” shaped gouges from an avalanche.
John started to hike up into these ridges, but came down when a thunderstorm arrived.
Mid-July is still fairly early in the season there. It was very green, the wildflowers were beautiful and the mosquitos were plentiful!
On our last evening there, we were all hanging out down by the creek (which was near the trail) and for some reason, we had all the dogs off-leash. They had done fine off-leash up by the campsite, out of earshot of the trail. And we can often hike them off-leash if we’re on an infrequently used trail, because there’s generally plenty of time to see someone coming and put their leashes on. But we should not have had them just hanging out so close to the trail, because of the possibility of encountering other dogs. Kira was off-leash because John was playing fetch with her. The other dogs were off-leash just because we hadn’t thought about it. It was our last night there, and we had just gotten too comfortable.
Suddenly, (of course), a large, off-leash dog appears on the trail. Kira started to bark and I quickly picked her up. Then Kai realized what was going on and ran toward the larger dog, snarling. Kai is not getting any smarter with old age, but he is getting meaner. I knew who was going to lose that fight. So I ran to intercept him, with Kira still in my arms.
I tripped on a rock, and in a fraction of a second realized I was going to do a face-plant. I didn’t want to squash Kira, so I twisted to the side and landed hard on my entire right side. Kira escaped from my arms and took off running up the trail at full speed. I lay on the ground unable to move, wondering if I would ever see her again.
John and Darren both came running toward me and I told them to go find the dogs. I wasn’t bleeding, and whatever damage I might have done to my leg was already a done deal. It didn’t hurt for me to lay there a little longer. And it didn’t actually hurt very much, even though I was aware that I had hit hard.
They were able to rescue Kai from himself, and they found Kira up at the campsite (smart girl!). Rosie was just happily following them around while they reconnoitered.
After a minute or two, I tried to stand up. That wasn’t happening. I imagined having to be carried out on a stretcher. Or worse yet, a helicopter! We were only two miles in, on a relatively easy trail. Could I walk two miles the next morning with a pack on my back? Or even without a pack on my back?
John carried me up the hill to the campsite. Let me tell you, there is nothing that makes you feel more self-conscious about a few extra pounds than having to be carried several yards over a rocky field by someone not very many pounds heavier than you are.
The next morning I was hobbling around. My leg wasn’t broken, there was just something badly pulled or maybe something torn. John got me a great big stick to lean on, put all the weight from my pack into his, and we set off down the mountain. It was very hot, but I covered from head to toe because of the mosquitos and biting flies, which were not very repelled by the DEET. They were on a mission.
And so was I. I made it!
