If I had
hitched a ride with the boys all the way to the parking lot in Rockwood, the
kayakers in the white Toyota would have passed right by without seeing me and
my unlikely plan would have fallen apart.
*****
The plan was
simple. The guys would get back from their 27-mile kayak trip two hours later
than they said they would. I would get to highway 550 two hours after making
this plan, via a trail I hoped was the right one. Josh would check his phone
when he got to the car and would know the plan. I would have a ride back to my
car. Simple.
*****
The previous
day I had offered to shuttle Josh and his friends to Silverton so they could
kayak back down the Animas River from there. I’d piddle around Silverton a
little while, drive the car back to the take-out for the guys and go find a
hike closer to Durango.
So Sunday
morning we headed out. I left my little Subi at Rockwood where they would
finish up, and I climbed into the Toyota with four of Josh’s kayaking friends.
Allow me to
take this moment to clarify that there were 6 of us crammed into an SUV at this
point. Four, not small, sardines packed into the back seat and two enviable
guys in the front. And, in case you haven’t done the math yet, there were 5
kayaks stacked on top of the car. It felt like a clown situation.
Forty-Five
minutes later we were in Silverton. Thankfully! We unfolded from the car, gave
our limbs a good shaking and then it was time to get to work. Well, it was time
for them to get to work. It was time for me to stand in the crisp Colorado
sunshine and stare around at the snow-capped mountains and the rushing water
and think to myself how lucky I was to be driving the car back and not sitting
in a freezing river all day.
A little
while later they were all geared up and I snapped a picture as they proudly
posed with their boats by the river. They thanked me one last time for driving them all that way, then they were off like a bunch of
colorful ducks, cruising with the current. Happy once again not to be in the water,
I promptly bee lined it for the nearest warm latte.
An hour
later I was back in the car and headed south. I pulled into Rockwood after a
leisurely drive, and I cruised along the winding road to the parking lot where
my happy Subi sat waiting. I stashed the Toyota keys in the designated spot and
doodled about my merry way.
*****
[Cut to
around 2 hours later]
I had been
hiking for an hour and a half up a trail called Jones Creek Trail. I had passed
from Ponderosa Pine land into the magical realm of the Aspen tree. The sky was
blue. The sun was shining down on my quickly crisping shoulders. My feet were
caked in dust and I was just about as happy as humanly possible.
The trail opened
out into a field of dandelions that I regret not frolicking in. At the other
end I found an intersecting trail.
“Pinkerton Flagstaff Trail”
Well, I had
only been hiking an hour and a half and really wanted to keep going. Now I had
to decide whether I should go left or right. Well left looked like it went up
hill some more, and being the type who can only enjoy down-hill if I know I
won’t have to come back up it later, I chose the higher trail and away I went.
As I hiked
steadily upward and the mountains began to rise around me in the distance, a
little thought kept tugging at the corners of my concentration. The little
though presented itself somewhat like this:
Pinkerton Flagstaff is the trail you hiked
with Josh back in March.
That trail started at 550.
The trailhead is really close to the takeout
where the Toyota is parked.
Did I turn the right way?
If only I had a map I could see which way I
should be going on this trail and I could meet up with them and they could give
me a ride back to my car, back in Hermosa.
It would be perfect!
So about 30
minutes later I was at a high point on the trail and couldn’t take it anymore.
I decided to test my luck with the Verizon gods
YES! Service!
I sat down
on a stump and did something I am NOT proud of. I used my phone’s internet
capabilities while out enjoying an adventure in the woods. [Cringe] In my
defense though, if I had had a map you can rest assured I wouldn’t have touched
that “mobile network” button.
As it turns
out, I had turned the wrong way back in the magical meadow of dandelions. That
was an easy fix though. What had taken me 30 minutes to walk up, took only 15
to race back down. I was back at the intersection in no time. I took a moment’s
breath and one last look back down the Jones Creek trail. Then I was off. I
only had a vague idea of how many miles I had ahead of me. I had no idea if I
would have a ride once I made it to the end. I just had this gut feeling that I
had to follow.
The next
hour was pretty much just me praying that the part of the trail I recognized
would be around the next bend. I had come out into an open part on a bit of a
ridge and was making the climb to the top of the rise when I looked down and
had to change my foot’s trajectory mid step to miss the Horny Toad who was
sunning on the trail. I stopped and smiled and told him to be more careful in
the future about where he chose to laze around. [When you’re hiking alone, you
aren’t picky about who or what you’ll talk to.]
I left the
lizard behind and as I continued up the trail, something came over me and I
knew everything was just going to work.
Sure enough, about thirty seconds later I came
around a bend and up over the top of the hill. I threw my hands up and let out
a victorious “WOO HOO!!!” I had found it! I was definitely on the right trail
and going in the right direction, and if memory served me right, I only had
about an hour left to go.
So, at about
5 o’clock I reached the last couple hundred meters of trail. I up-ended my
water bottle and promised myself I’d eat all of the fruit later, and make
smoothies for the next week. The last forty-five minutes I had been having
fantasies about fruit juice and smoothies, and pretty much anything cold and
even remotely water-based.
I came
around the last corner and that’s where I met the final piece in the puzzle.
Five high-school-aged boys were climbing
on a wall of rock, hidden in the trees. I was so hot and thirsty and had no
idea if Josh and his posse were off the river or not, and if they were, if they
had even gotten my message. The boys saw
me walking by and said hi. I greeted them in return, and with NO hesitation
asked if they had any extra water. I told them I had been hiking for about 4
hours and the sun was brutal. They happily offered me a full bottle of cool,
wonderful, refreshing water which I promptly drained.
One of the
boys asked if I needed a ride anywhere. At first I declined, saying that my
friends should be off the river soon and would stop by and get me. After
thinking a minute though, I realized that I would have much better luck getting
a ride from the kayakers if I was in Rockwood where the car was. The turn off
to Rockwood was only a couple of miles up the road. The boys assured me they
were finishing up and would be happy to give me a ride.
*****
If I had
hitched a ride with the boys all the way to the parking lot in Rockwood, the
kayakers in the white Toyota would have passed right by without seeing me and
my unlikely plan would have fallen apart. I didn’t ride all the way to the
parking lot though. At the intersection with 550, I thanked the guys for the
millionth time, hopped out of the backseat and marched off down the road. I
don’t know what made me get out there, but I just knew I didn’t need to go all
the way to the parking lot.
I had been walking
maybe 5 minutes, probably less when it happened. The white Toyota, piled high
with kayaks and packed full of smelly guys, came around the corner. I threw my
hands up and smiled as big as I possibly could.
It had
worked!
My crazy,
impulsive, irrational plan had actually worked! They pulled up beside me and
asked if was ok and if I needed a ride. I asked if they could drive me back to
my car at Hermosa, and as we drove the 10 or 15 miles back to the trail head, I filled them in on what had just happened.
Moral of the story:
Instant shuttle karma is a thing.
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