“You see the fur on this mount? It’s nice and thick. This was a mature, healthy goat. The goats you’ll see in this park look like this. A lot of areas don’t have goats like this.”
The man paused and scratched his scruffy chin. “Well, I should clarify that. There aren’t many areas in the first place where you can even hunt mountain goats, and most of those places don’t have good trophy goats. Their fur is thinner; the animals are smaller. Only a couple places actually have decent goats, and good luck getting a tag for them.”
“Sorry,” Jack said. “What do you mean by getting a tag?”
“The number of goats that can be hunted each year is restricted by the government. They have a lottery to get hunting permits. You can enter for years and not get one.”
“So, what do you do if you’re a trophy hunter and you can’t get a permit? Are there no other options?”
The man swung his head around and saw me. Jack followed the man’s gaze to me but didn’t react. I smiled and strolled away as casually as I could. I felt like somebody who got caught eavesdropping, which is exactly what I was doing.
I walked over to the stairs and up to our room. It was almost time to check out, and I wanted to get as much of my interview down as possible before we had to leave.
6
A Whole New Level
We packed up and headed down to the car. It’s a really long walk from the lodge to the parking lot, including a hill with a whole lot of stairs over it. I made Jack carry my bags again. I asked him if he wanted to go get the car and drive it around to the door so we didn’t have to carry our bags over the hill, but he said he’d rather just walk there the one time. I really didn’t want to carry his bag over all those stairs, but if he was willing to carry both of mine plus his backpack full of camera equipment, I decided I shouldn't complain.
We got to the car and realized that we still had our room keys, so we loaded the car and walked back. Why we didn't drive around, I don't know, and it's a decision I'll regret for as long as I can remember this.
On our way back to the car, we saw two people standing next to it. As we got closer, one of them pointed at us and they started walking our way. I thought he kind of looked like Matt, but I wasn't sure. Jack slowed down and grabbed my arm.
“That’s the Jeep that I saw on the path,” he said.
A dark blue Jeep was parked behind our car.
“The one in your picture!” I said, and stopped walking.
Now they both were coming toward us and picking up their pace.
“Run!” Jack blurted out.
Jack held onto my hand to help pull me along faster toward the far end of the parking lot. He’s a runner, but I’m not. At the end of the parking lot, there was a trailhead, and Jack continued onto the trail, pulling me along behind.
I caught a glimpse of orange and yellow signs posted at the trailhead as we ran by. At least one of them had a picture of a bear on it. They were probably important, but we had already passed them before they even registered.
I was wondering what they said until I tripped on something and Jack yanked me back up and yelled, “C’mon!”
Jack pulled me a real long time. I could barely make my feet keep up with our speed. I tripped at least twice more, but he kept pulling me forward, and I let him because I knew I heard somebody behind us. I even heard them screaming at one point.
When I didn’t hear anybody anymore, I said to Jack, “I need to slow down.”
He made no sign of slowing.
I was puffing so hard, I didn’t think he could hear me, so I tried again a little louder. “Jack, I need to slow down!”
“You need to stay alive more,” he replied, glancing over his shoulder.
He did slow down a little bit, and he kept looking back to see if the two men had followed us. I was too winded to speak, and I was starting to see lights flashing in front of my eyes. I tugged on his arm with both of my hands and shook my head back and forth. He got the message and stopped. I wasn’t a runner, but even worse, I wasn’t used to the thin air at this altitude.
“We need to keep moving,” he whispered. “These guys are killers.”
“I can't run anymore,” I barely squeaked out.
“Then walk for a while,” he said, pulling on my hand again. “But walk faster.”
We went on like that for another mile or two, running and walking. Finally, Jack stopped and turned toward me.
“Okay, let’s get our bearings,” he said.
He pulled a map out of his back pocket and unfolded it. I was really grateful to have a second to catch my breath and rest my legs.
“Here's the trail we’re on,” he said. “Good. I was hoping we were headed this direction. We can stay on this trail and make it to the Going-to-the-Sun Highway.”
I was feeling light-headed and needed to sit down.
“Weren't those grizzly bear signs back there at the trailhead?” I asked. “Are we even allowed to be on this trail?”
“Those signs just mean there’s been a grizzly spotted on this trail recently. It doesn't mean that the bear is still here and that he'll hurt you if he is. He’ll probably leave you alone.”
“Probably! Sorry, but I don't like probably when killer grizzlies are around!”
“Well, if we don’t keep moving, those two guys back there will definitely kill us.”
“We don’t know that,” I said. “That guy closer to us looked like Matt, the guy I interviewed this morning. He wanted to talk to you about your photography.”
“I’m sure he did. He also looks a lot like one of the guys in my pictures digging the grave,” Jack said.
“You think so?”
“I can’t be sure, but he has the right build, the wide face and black hair. And that blue Jeep! That's what really convinces me.”
“Then who was the other guy?”
“I don't know. Did you get a good enough look to compare him to the other men in my pictures?”
“No, I didn’t. So what do we do now?”
“If we stay on this trail and go to the Going-to-the-Sun Highway, we should be able to get a ride if we get there in time.”
“How far is it?” I asked.
Jack consulted his map. “About twelve miles. It's hard to be accurate.”
“Twelve miles! I can’t go that far. Not in these shoes.”
“You should never wear shoes you can’t run in,” he said.
“Thank you, Captain Obvious. That helps a whole lot right now.”
“Well, what other choices do we have? We could go back. Maybe step off the trail when we get close to the parking lot. If we get lucky, they’ll be gone, and we can make it to the car.”
“What if we’re not lucky?” I asked.
“Are you willing to risk finding out?”Jack replied.
“It's going to be really cold tonight.”
It takes a really long time to hike twelve miles through the woods, and we didn't get started until the middle of the afternoon. There was one important turn that we had to get right, according to Jack’s map, and that was about halfway through the trail where it intersects with another one. It was starting to get pretty dark when we got to that point, but it sure made me feel a lot better to know that we were on the right trail. Jack tried to show me how he could tell where we were on the map by pointing out some of the surrounding mountains, but they all looked the same to me on the map.
We continued on until it started to get so dark that we kept tripping on roots in the trail. Or they could have been rocks. I could barely see my own feet. I reminded Jack of the nest that he had built for us when we got stuck in the woods once before. He had broken the bottom limbs off a cedar tree and put those on the ground for a mattress. The other branches above made a nice roof, and we stayed reasonably warm that night.
But that was back home where we have cedar trees, and it was at a much lower elevation. It was going to be a lot colder here tonight. At least I had a jacket on this time.
&nbs
p; Jack picked out a tall pine tree with branches that went all the way to the ground, fought his way into the trunk, and started bending branches back and forth until he broke them off. He asked me to find a rock to chop with, but I couldn't find any in the dark.
“If we hadn’t flown here,” he said, “I would have brought a pocket knife.”
I could hear him heaving back and forth pretty hard on a branch. “Are you sure it’s safe to stay out here tonight?”
“Should be,” he said without looking up.
I wasn’t so sure and I don’t think Jack was either. But I could tell he was doing the best he could to give us a place to camp for a bit.
“Can I help?” I asked.
“Sure. You finish this one, and I’ll start a new one.”
It was a lot of work to separate that branch from the trunk, but I eventually got it. Between the two of us, we got enough branches down to make a little nest. These branches were pointier than cedars, but they had better loft. Just two layers criss crossed over each other made a decent mattress, given the situation.
We both collapsed at the base of the tree. We didn't have any food with us. We didn't have any water, either, which is even worse.
“Do you think that bear will come tonight?” I asked.
“Nah. Maybe he ate those two guys that were chasing us. He'll probably save us for breakfast.”
I curled up in a ball facing the trunk of the tree. Jack was at my back, spooning me—for warmth, of course. I slept surprisingly well until sometime in the middle of the night. It was so dark that I literally could not see my hand in front of my face. My neck was stiff and my hip was sore from lying on the ground in the icy cold. I could hear Jack’s soft exhales right behind my head. I didn’t want to wake him, but I had to move.
I rolled over and couldn’t help grunting a little. Jack’s knees were where I wanted mine to be, so I wrapped one leg over top of his. He shifted and straightened out his legs. Feeling him so close reminded me of our precarious situation, and I was suddenly overwhelmed with the comfort and safety that I was feeling from him.
I pulled his face to mine and kissed him long and hard. He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me in tighter. I found his leg in between mine and squeezed it as tight as I could. We started squirming around together, working out any small gaps that might have been left between us.
His leg was warm between my thighs, and felt my heart thrumming in my chest. Time to take a leap. I took his arm and guided it inside the front of my jacket—or at least I tried to. The stupid thing was zipped shut. I unzipped it and tugged my shirt up. As Jack reached around my waist, I pushed against his shoulders to roll him onto his back, and I rolled with him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him more.
I couldn't stand it any longer. I undid my pants and pushed them down below my knees. Jack stripped his off faster than I would’ve thought possible. I touched him in the dark the way a blind person touches the face of someone trying to commit their features to memory. I felt my whole body convulse and couldn’t wait any longer. I lay back down on top of him and took our relationship to a whole new level.
7
No Room At The Inn
We made it to the Going-to-the-Sun Highway at eleven o'clock after a long, walk hand-in-hand. Jack and I both had that rosy glow after our night of passion. Neither of us talked about it, but neither of us seemed to regret it—I knew I didn’t. Wow, Jack… just… wow. My cheeks started to hurt and I had to force myself not to grin.
The trail came out at a parking lot, and a red shuttle bus was just starting to pull out. We both ran up and waved our arms over our heads. The driver stopped for us, and we found two empty seats at the back.
I had read about the shuttle buses here, but this was the first time I’d seen one. It looked like an antique bus with a long narrow hood sticking out the front. The grill was sloped back toward the top, and black fenders and running boards protruded from the sides. It reminded me of a Bonnie-and-Clyde car. The only difference was the bus was longer, and red.
And it didn’t have a roof, which made it a lot brighter inside than any other bus I’d ever been on. If you chose, you could stand up to see outside all around. We were at an overlook where we had a grand view of a green valley with a river at the bottom, green hills above, and rocky mountaintops beyond them. Above it all, a hundred bright white, billowy clouds polka-dotted a perfectly blue sky. I grabbed Jack and started to tell him to take a picture until I realized that he didn’t have his camera with him. I sat back down, and Jack put his head on my shoulder and promptly fell asleep.
The bus made one stop at a trailhead where two people got off and two others got on. The next stop was Lake McDonald Lodge, which was the next lodge on our agenda, anyway. As soon as we got off the bus, we walked straight to the registration desk.
“Hi,” I said to the woman there. “My name is Alison Meyers, and I had a room reserved for last night, but we got chased by two men and had to spend the night in the woods.”
Her mouth fell open and I realized that was probably an overshare. I felt my face flush and the tears starting to well up.
“We haven't had anything to eat or drink since lunch yesterday, and I don't know how we can work this out, but we need a room for tonight, right now we need some water and food, and I don't have my purse.”
Jack stepped in. “I have my wallet, so that's not a problem.”
He pulled it out of his pocket and took out his credit card. “Can we switch our reservation from last night to tonight without paying a penalty? I think we have a pretty valid extenuating circumstance.”
The woman pulled up my reservation and said, “We have you down as a no-show. Your room has already been charged to your card. We're booked full for tonight.”
She must’ve seen my face starting to collapse exasperation. She clicked some more into her computer. Her eyes scanned the screen moving back and forth flitting from line to line of what I was sure was more bad news.
“Here. I do have some water,” she said with a smile, setting a bottle on the counter in front of me. “Let me see if I can go find you another.”
I sucked down half the bottle, then handed it to Jack and he promptly drained it. The woman returned with another bottle and Jack traded her our empty for it.
“Wow,” she said. “you really are thirsty.”
Jack unscrewed the cap and handed me the bottle, and we repeated the process.
“I need to talk to the manager about a refund for last night,” I said, “and also about an interview that I had scheduled with him for today.”
The receptionist was still in awe of our water drinking capabilities, but she regained her composure and after a few shocked seconds said, “Wait here. I'll be right back.”
She returned with the manager, who introduced himself. I told him our story—a very abbreviated version—and he apologized but said that they cannot refund payment for no-shows. I tried to argue my case, but he insisted that it is a company policy beyond his authority. He showed us where the public restrooms were and suggested that we freshen up and have lunch, then come back and find him for the interview.
I was upset at how efficiently he blew me off. I was upset that I spent the night in the woods, and I was upset that I didn’t have my purse with me.
“Jack, what are we going to do?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Let’s just get your interview and we’ll figure something out.”
It made me feel good that he was so sure. So, I took a deep breath and headed toward the restroom to clean up.
The second thing I did when I looked in the mirror was wonder why he had spoken to us at all. The first thing I did was jump back. The left side of my face was covered with dirt and the rest of me wasn't much better off. We won't even discuss my hair.
I took the best birdbath I could at the restroom sink and was at least clean enough for lunch. My hair was a hopeless cause. I combed it with my fingers and scrunched it the best
I could. It would just have to do. I covered my eyes and walked away from the mirror.
We wolfed down lunch without even concerning ourselves with the article. I was aware of it, but I was much more aware of how hungry I was. The food filled me up, and that was all I cared about at the moment. I don't even remember what I ate.
As soon as we were done, we went back to the registration desk. I asked for the manager, and Jack asked for a shuttle schedule.
The woman said that the manager was tied up at the moment, and she would let him know that I was ready. She found a schedule for Jack; then ducked back into the office behind the desk.
While we were waiting, we walked across the lobby to look out the windows at the view. Like the last one, this lodge was built on the shore of a lake, and also like the last one, the view was fantastic.
The lobby itself looked almost exactly like the last two except it was a little smaller, and the theme was more native American than pioneer fur trapper. The biggest difference was in the big paintings hanging high on the walls. The overhead lights, too, were decorated a little more in a native American theme.
The next thing I saw made me gasp, and I turned back toward the window and took Jack’s hand. “Don’t look now,” I said, “but there are two men standing over by the front desk. One of them is the manager, and I think the other is Matt from yesterday—one of the guys who chased us onto the trail.”
“Okay, a little lighter on the hand please. I might need to use that again this week.”
I looked down and saw my white knuckles clawing at his hand and loosened my grip a little. Jack glanced up over my shoulder to look at the men.
“I can’t be sure, but I think you're right. Why would the guy from yesterday's lodge be at this one?” he asked.
“I don’t know, but I'm getting a real bad feeling about this. If this is one of the guys who chased us, his conversation with the manager cannot be doing us any good.”
Goats, Boats, and Killer Cutthroats Page 5
