Chapter 10

Things had finally calmed down, and privacy returned to our lives. The simple day to day events, so long absent from our lives, quickly returned. It was amazing that the simple chore of cutting firewood could be so therapeutic.

Finally, Suzy and I had gotten caught up. And believe me, we had been at the razors edge of failure. All the shenanigans with the animal’s rights folks had put a severe delay on our required plans. If it hadn’t been for our friends and neighbors, we probably wouldn’t have made it.

Fortunately, I had taken a clue from our friends at the Bar T ranch. I had spent the last two years slowly building a wagon trail in from Elk City. I had bought a buckboard wagon and harness for Jughead. I had even been contemplating getting a second mule. But hadn’t yet come to a decision when the animal rights folks threw a wrench into the works. Between that trail and the buckboard, we were able to get stocked up for the winter.

I knew that Jughead had a problem with the wagon. He was used to a pack rig. And pulling a wagon almost seemed to be beneath his dignity. But as time went by, and he benefited from the increased quality and quantity of food, his attitude seemed to change.

If it hadn’t been for that wagon, we probably would have had to spend the winter in the low country. As it was, we had enough for the winter with a comfortable margin.

We had finally settled down into our usual routines when mother nature pulled a rabbit out of her hat.

Snow comes early in the high country. It comes early and stays long. Without warning, we were hit with a blizzard. Overnight a good foot and a half came down. We usually weren’t concerned. Our woodpile was stacked and packed. The critters had plenty of feed, and so did we. The next morning, after breakfast, I spent most of my time checking things out. Looking for damage, cleaning roofs, shoveling a path to the barn and outhouse. I also strung guide ropes. Having experienced whiteout conditions, these were vital for getting around without getting lost.

Getting disoriented and lost in a blizzard is deadly.

Eventually, I judged that my outside chores were done and came back in for lunch. Suzy had a hearty bone broth and veggie soup, cornbread, and chicory coffee waiting for me. After lunch, I sat down in what I called my command chair and started settling in for a well-deserved nap. Nope.

Suzy mentioned in passing that I should call Paul in Elk City and let him know we were alright. I sat for a moment, savoring my closed eyes. “Matt, call Paul, now.” henpecked. That’s what I was.

Powering up the radio and getting it tuned in took a couple of minutes. When everything was warmed up, I called Paul. “Mountain Man, calling Elk City, come in Elk City. Talk to me, Paul.”

Paul came back immediately, not a good sign. “Matt, finally. Where you been, boy? I’ve been trying to get you all morning.”

“Sorry, Paul, I had chores and then lunch. What’s got your bustle in a bunch?”

“Matt, we’ve got a serious problem going on. There’s a hiking group up in your area that has activated their EPIRB. It looks like they have gotten cut off because of the weather.”

“Ok Paul, I know I’m going to regret this, why don’t you call the forestry folks search and rescue? Or how about the county or state folks. They’re better equipped for stuff like this.”

“That’s the thing, Matt. Everybody’s tied up with recovery efforts in Jerome. It seems Boise thinks the rich and famous folks in Sun Valley have precedence over some late season hikers in the clearwater. Look, Matt, I wouldn’t ask if I had any other choice.”

I sat for a moment, thinking. Suzy spoke up. “You know you have to go Matt. Those folks need your help. You can’t just ignore them.”

“I know, sweety. My mind was made up before Paul was finished talking.”

Just then, Paul came back on the radio. “You still there, Mountain Man?”

“Yeah, I’m here, Paul. Give me their coordinates. Are you in contact with them?”

“Negative Matt, just the EPIRB signal. Here’s their location.” Paul read off the latitude, longitude.

“Ok, Paul, I’ll get on the trail as quickly as possible. You wouldn’t happen to have a reliable weather report?”

There was dead air for a couple of minutes. “Not good, Matt. You’ve got clear weather for about 6 hours. Turning worse about 5 hours in. The overnights are for even worse than yesterday. NOAA says 2 to 3 feet by morning.”

The words I whispered under my breath were definitely not kid rated.

“Ok Paul, as soon as I can, I’ll be on the trail. Mountain Man signing off.”

I looked at Suzy, and she looked back.

“You’ve got to do it, Matt. Those folks are depending on you. Even if they don’t know it.”

“I know, honey, that’s not the problem. I just have a bad feeling about this one. You stay here and get things ready. Cold weather injuries first. Trauma, I’ll handle onsite as I’m able. Now let me start getting ready. Damn, I’ve got a bad feeling about this one.”

Before I left, I checked my maps. As the crow flies, these folks were fairly close. Maybe 3 miles. But I’m not a crow. It looked like my one easy way was going to be about 5 miles, uphill. Fortunately, most of it was under tree cover. So, the snow wasn’t going to be too deep. But one of the lessons I learned in the high country is never relying on what you ‘think.’