Snowbound
Page 3
unnecessary risks are what got me into this situation, so my best bet is just to wait it out.
But then, it occurred to me, I do have a way to move the phone to a higher location, even though I can’t do it myself! If it works (or even if it doesn’t), I’ll let you know in my next installment.
Sunday afternoon, 1:00.
Well, I got a message out! It will probably still take quite a while for anyone to get to me, but at least now they know to start looking. The main reason why I don’t have any cell phone service is because I’m at the bottom of this valley. And on top of that, the closest tower is probably in the nearest town, which is about five miles away. I figured that if I were up higher, I would be able to make a call. But then, I realized that I don’t need to be higher. The important thing is that the phone is up high. And since I have a tank of helium and an essentially infinite supply of balloons, I have a method of getting the phone up high.
Of course, I can’t talk into the phone or dial it with it up in the air, but I was able to send a text message.
I inflated about 30 balloons and tied them all to the end of the roll of string, and tied a plastic bag to the string. I composed a message, and sent it to almost everyone I knew. Right before placing the phone in the bag, I pushed the send button. I tied the bag shut, and then let up the balloons, to about 50 feet. I let it float there for a few minutes, and then pulled it back down. When I took the phone out of the bag, it said, “message sent”!
I gave my location the best I could, and explained that I have enough food and clothes to last a few days. But I also explained that my car couldn’t move, and that I was unable to walk to safety. Finally, I said that I will check for any replies at about 4:00.
After sending my message, I heated up another thermos of water, and I’ll make myself some lunch in a few minutes.
I listened to the car radio again, and the interstate is now “passable”, but that plows have not yet started clearing most of the other roads, although a few major routes are in the process of being opened. Other stranded travelers have been brought back, and it sounds like most of them were much less prepared than I was; however, the ones that have been rescued so far all had cell phone service so they could call for rescue.
Sunday afternoon, 5:00.
Before sending the balloon up again at 4:00, I had composed another message, just in case the first one hadn’t gone through for some reason. But I did receive a number of replies, so at least now, people are aware of my predicament.
In particular, my boss let me know that he had contacted the sheriff in this county, and they will send someone out to get me “as soon as they are able”. I doubt if the county road will be plowed yet today, so I’m sure that means that I have one more night here. But still, it’s good to know that this ordeal will soon be over.
I imagine I’ll have to pay a small fortune to have the car towed out of here, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the county sends me a bill for the cost of the rescue. After all, it was my own stupidity that got me in this situation.
My boss did ask me how I was able to send the message, since he has tried calling me, and was told that my number was unavailable. So I’ll have to explain, the best I can with a small text message, how his balloons came in handy after all. I’ll also explain that I’ll try to leave the balloons aloft, to make it easier for the sheriff to find me.
I did hear on the radio that there have apparently been a few fatalities by people stranded in their cars. In one case, by the time they got to the person’s car on a state highway, the person had apparently run out of gas and died of exposure. And in a couple of cases, cars have been found abandoned, with no sign of the occupants. Presumably, those people tried to walk out of the blizzard, and they’re probably still at the bottom of a snow drift.
Sunday evening, 7:00.
It’s dark now, so I’m in for the night, and have hot water for dinner. I sent the balloons up again with my phone to send a message acknowledging everyone who had contacted the sheriff. I also advised them that I’ll try to leave the balloons aloft, to make it easier to find me, since I’m unsure of my exact location. I said I would also listen for them, and honk my horn if I heard anyone in the distance. The wind is calm now and the skies finally cleared up. So the balloons should stay aloft, and sound should carry pretty well.
I did receive a reply, and it will probably be tomorrow afternoon before they can get to me. The road nearest me still isn’t plowed, and since I’m not in any immediate danger, I’m one of the low priority cases. Apparently, others are still being brought in, some of whom are in pretty rough shape, as near as I can ascertain from listening to the radio.
I’ll make myself some dinner from my latest batch of hot water, and probably get some sleep soon.
Monday morning, 6:30.
I awoke early again today, and made myself some instant oatmeal and coffee from the hot water from last night. I’ll probably be here most of the day, so I’ll go outside in a few minutes and make at least one more batch of hot water.
In the meantime, I’ll compose another message thanking my boss and my friends and family for getting my message to the sheriff, and then just sit back and await my rescue.
Monday morning, 11:00.
I sent one more message from the balloon phone, and also received a number of texts from friends, all reassuring me that help is on the way. I made another fire, and made another thermos full of hot water for lunch. I also cooked some spaghetti and meatballs in an empty Coke can, and I’ll have those in a few minutes.
I’ve been conserving food somewhat, but since I should be out of here in a few hours, there’s really no need to be obsessive about it. Still, I will make a point to keep some in reserve, just in case they’re delayed.
I still have almost a half tank of gas. The weather has also warmed up to about 25, so I’m quite comfortable.
In another circumstance, this place is actually quite peaceful. I’ve had a lot of quiet time to myself this weekend, and I really can’t complain about any discomfort. I guess I’m here partly because of my own stupidity, but I’m also alive because I made at least a few good choices, and was somewhat prepared. As I’ve heard on the radio, others have died, both because they had bad luck that was just a little bit worse than mine, but also because they made one more bad decision than I did.
Monday afternoon, 4:00.
It was warm enough that I can keep the car window open, listening for any signs of rescue. I was about to send another text message from my balloon, but just a few minutes ago, I heard what sounded like a truck in the distance. I honked my horn three times, and a few seconds later, I could faintly hear the sound of a siren in the distance. I honked again, and the siren answered. Then, I heard the motor of a smaller engine, which is getting louder. I think this is it.
Monday evening, 7:30.
I’m not in a motel about 15 miles away from my car. The sounds I had heard were a snowplow, followed by the siren of a police car, followed by the engine of a snowmobile.
At about 4:30, a deputy sheriff on a snowmobile showed up at my little campsite. He was towing a sled with, among other things, a stretcher. Apparently, he had needed to use it earlier, and he was pleasantly surprised when he didn’t have to in my case. Apparently, it was his own personal snowmobile, and he’s been out most of the weekend bringing people in. I was one of the last, and he reported that most of the people he had rescued had been in a lot worse shape than me. He had some emergency rations with him, and he laughed when I offered him a cup of coffee.
It was rather anti-climactic as I rode on the back of his snowmobile the two miles back to the county road, where his squad car was parked. I helped him trailer his snowmobile, and he drove me to this motel, after which he was off to conduct yet another rescue.
The main highway is clea
red now, although it looks like the plow sent to clear the county road was there only because of me.
It turns out that I had, indeed, missed the curve where the road turned, and I had continued two miles down a private road leading to a campground that wouldn’t be open until May. Chances are, nobody would have bothered searching there, so I am lucky that I was able to send out a text message from my balloon.
When we got back to the county road, it was at least a mile before I saw any sign of civilization, and that was only a farm house. I have no idea how close I was to the nearest building in the other direction, although I’m sure that was also at least a mile. And I have no idea if anyone was home.
In other words, the one smart thing I did all weekend was stay with my car. In the blizzard, I would have undoubtedly perished before reaching anyone who could help me. Even after the storm subsided, it would have been very treacherous, and possibly life-threatening.
The deputy was amused with my balloons, but also impressed. Not only was I able to use them to signal for help, but he could see them from the county road. And even if I hadn’t been able to send a text, someone would have eventually investigated.
He did ask why I had the helium, and I explained. He asked me what I would have done if I didn’t have it with me. I had thought of that a bit, and I