Our End Of The Lake: Surviving After The 2012 Solar Storm (Prepper Trilogy)

by Ron Foster

  18

  ON THE ROAD AGAIN

  I fired up the old tractor and arranged the pack that Phil gave me and followed him out of the driveway. Phil had saddled one of his horses and was going to go check on a neighbor. We progressed as far as his turn off, and then we waved goodbye to each other, and I putt-putted on down the road towards home.

  I figured I could do about 15 miles an hour and not stress out this old beast too badly. Let’s see, I calculated, that should put me at the city limits in about 10 hour’s if I got back on the interstate somewhere. Wow! That’s a hell of a difference from the weeks it would have taken me walking or even riding that stupid bike.

  I think I will stay back roads, as much as I can, and pick some obscure exit to get back on the interstate. I sure didn’t relish the thought of seeing mobs of refugees wanting to get a hold of my tractor. I rode on for a while avoiding cars and trucks in the road and only occasionally seeing a homeowner who waved for my attention, but I just kept on going by as fast as the tractor would let me.

  Hell, it looks like its going to rain soon; I hope it doesn’t get too bad. All I got for protection is one of those disposable plastic paint tarps and the canvas one I used for my pack earlier if I needed some shelter. I better stop and cut a hole in the plastic one for my head to fit through soon, I thought as thunder started to rumble.

  I better check the oil in this thing, too, I thought. I am glad Phil supplied me with a gas can and a laundry bag full of oil bottles or this trip might’ve started out twice as long. I can just see me having to rob cars for oil or gas, well I would have to get some more gas eventually, but siphoning doesn’t take long.

  I can’t get that opening song from Green Acres TV show out of my head. I chuckled to my self thinking, how surprised my mom’s going to be seeing me ride up on this thing, if it makes it. It will make it, think positive. I reminded myself.

  I made a little pit stop on a deserted stretch of road and rigged me a poncho, after I put gas and oil into the tractor.

  Oh hell, it’s starting to drizzle, come on rain just hold off a bit longer, I was hoping or I was going to get drenched.

  The rain held off for about an hour or so and then started intermittently coming down. Well, at least it’s not storming. I allowed while trying to keep the rain out of my eyes. I hadn’t seen anywhere to get under cover, so I might as well just grin and bear it. You know this rain might help me out, if I got back on the interstate, everybody would be seeking shelter in cars and not be all in the road I figured.

  I started towards the interstate and came on at an exit with very few stores. I didn’t see any signs of life around and the buildings didn’t look like they had been broken into yet.

  This was always a desolate stretch of highway with few exits and mostly wooded terrain. There were relatively few cars on the road, but I saw an occasional face peering out the window watching my passing in a moderate rain. I saw one, I think prepper, taking refuge from the rain at an underpass with a military looking backpack and a bicycle heading towards Atlanta or one of its surrounding towns. Guy was pretty cool as I gunned it and came whizzing by. He held up his hand and gave me a thumbs up which I happily returned.

  What do we have here?” I wondered a few miles later, while slowing the tractor and looking ahead at a RV on the road shoulder with its awning out.

  An elderly couple was sitting outside under the tarp in lawn chairs and waved to me. I slowed down and stopped the tractor in front of the vehicle and we exchanged hellos.

  “Mind if I get out of the rain for a bit?” I asked.

  “Sure. I will get you a chair.” the man said.

  “My name’s Sara, that’s my husband, John.” she said motioning to him coming out the door of the RV with another folding chair.

  “I am David.” I replied John extended his hand to shake it but I said “I am pretty wet” he said he understood and to have seat.

  “I like your chariot there.” John said eying my rusty heap.

  “So far it’s getting me where I am going and I am grateful for it.” I replied pulling off my rain sheet. “I see you folks are making the best of it.” I said not knowing where to start.

  “We might as well, Sara and I are not going anywhere, so this is now home.” he responded giving his wife’s hand a squeeze.

  “Well, at least you got a nice pond over there to look at.” I said gazing out into a field.

  “Yes, that’s something to be thankful for.” Sarah said looking at the fairly large body of water. “We haven’t figured out if it belongs to a farm or not yet, but will check it out in a few days.”

  “Do you think it has any fish in it, Dave?” John asked.

  “Most likely does, probably bream and bass.” I considered.

  “Sara and I do like to fish.” John responded happily.

  “Well, there you go; a ready made vacation spot.” I said trying to stay on a positive note.

  “We had a guy come by on a bike yesterday that said he thought that property might have several ponds on it.” Sara said snuggling closer to John.

  “That’s not uncommon around here; a lot of big landowners stock them.” I informed them.

  The rain had started to let up and we continued to make small talk for a bit. I had about 70 more miles to go and was itching to get home, but felt I might need to stick around here for awhile and maybe share some useful information and a bit of food.

  “I got to be moving along shortly, but I have some food with me and I would like share, if you would care to have a road side picnic with me” I offered.

  “How nice.” Sarah said looking towards John for approval. “We would love to.” she said accepting my invitation.

  “Well, let me get some stuff off my tractor, Montgomery can wait another hour or so.” and proceeded to get what I had intended to be sharing.

  19

  Stranded On The Side Of The Road

  David sat back and listened to the Cicadas sing as dusk fell on the highway.

  “John, you know that you might be signing your own death warrant staying out here.” I whispered now that Sarah had gone inside to put up the few cans of tuna and jerky I was leaving with my adopted couple.

  John considered for a small pause and replied, “We’ve lived a good life Dave, we can meet our Maker anytime now without regrets, but don’t scare Sarah, and she is ok right now with our lot.” he said rheumy eyed

  “I don’t intend to.” David said weighing his options. “This is a great place for a young man to make it, but you aren’t a young man.” I reminded him and rose to extend my hand to Sarah making her way out the door of the RV.

  “Thank you, David. Nice to see a man with some manners.” Sarah said casually settling down next to John.

  John appeared a bit flustered about our previous secret conversation and his wife of many years picked up on it quick.

  “Did I interrupt something?” she said looking concerned in John’s direction?

  “Oh not really, Dave here was telling me I needed to remember some old skills I’d forgot about food gathering is all.” He said pointedly at me.

  “Johns always been a good provider, David, no worries here” she said confidently patting her hubby.

  “What concerns you, David that upset him?” she said searching both our faces for emotions.

  “Oh nothing, we were arguing about the finer points of fishing, as men folk do.” trying to put the ball back in his court, I said shrugging off her concerns.

  “You men. Always got to be bigger or the best.” she said with some humor.

  “David, he knows his way around a fishing hole and might just give you a run for your money.” She jibed while happily caressing John’s hand.

  “I bet he could.” I responded jovially to Sara and saw that John settled back in his chair relaxing, while patting Sara for the compliment.

  I had just drove 75 miles on a tractor after walking at least 35, by the time I happened on this loving couple. Something in me
didn’t want to desert them on the side of the road in a RV during this time of the world going to hell in a hand basket because government did not want to scare anyone with impending doom news. I decided to try a new strategy, I approached John differently.

  “You ever get a chance to do much trapping John?” I let him focus on while considering an appropriate way to bring up the next topic.

  “Cant say that I have, Dave,” he replied quicker than I expected.

  “You think there’s something to catch that way around here?” he said all ears and Sarah looked flummoxed.

  “That’s a beaver dam that looks like it’s backing up that creek forming that huge pond.” I replied looking off in the distance at the mouth of it.

  “I thought that was just flotsam or jetsam.” he said eying the odd contours of the pond’s dams.

  “I am going to sleep in one of these cars next to you, if I have permission to stay the night on your newfound land, and show you how to catch a beaver or a muskrat in the morning, if you would like.” I said to John studying the lands features I had pointed out.

  “What does a beaver taste like Dave? I hate to hurt the industrious creatures, but if it’s not cruel, me and John might try one some day.” Sarah said looking in the same direction as I and contemplating having a snare class in the morning.

  “Well, they are smart as hell and taste like pork, kind of, but we don’t have any lure so I got to think of an angle.” I said still thinking of my next step.

  “I think I heard in a pioneer day high school book report that the beavers tail the best eating.” said John volunteered, regaining the conversation and a look of wonder from Sara.

  “I’ve only eaten one twice during hard conditions, but the tail is fatty like a steak and you sizzle the hell out of it.” I offered, dreading the chore of cleaning one in the field, if I got lucky.

  “They got something called castor glands, to watch out for and collect, I think. I remember reading a Mountain man story of the fur trappers.” Sarah suggested looking at me like I was the answer to not having to eat fish for dinner for the rest of her life.

  “I haven’t figured out why Beavers and cotton mouth snakes don’t affect each other, but be careful around beaver dams. You are more likely to see a snake than a beaver and every animal uses the dams as a crossroads, easier to catch a coon than a beaver on a dam.” I said drawing my audience in to the natural way of things.

  “Folks eat rattlesnakes, supposed to taste like chicken.” John said thinking about those brush piles for a moment.”

  “Tastes like chicken that’s been eating fish.” I said and let that sink in a minute. “I got 5 beers, and half of a half of gallon of whiskey, am I staying or what?” I tempted enthusiastically.

  “We got CAMP RULES, David.” Sara said awaiting John’s reply as she continued eying me like a school teacher correcting one of her pupils.

  “We can partake, but watch the cussing or confrontations.” John said while reassuring his devoted one.

  “I am sorry, Dave, old habits of old campgrounds, you’ve been an angel, you and the old man have a little fun.” she said touching my leg and receiving a nod from her husband.

  “It’s been the start of hard times, and I haven’t quite wrapped my head around it yet.” said Sarah looking to John.

  “’A toddy for the body does a soul good’, sometimes” he said, hugging his wife of many years. ““You want one?” he questioned looking deep in her eyes as a touching moment transpired, revealing the depth of their devotion to each other.

  “Sure, and I will play bartender, but you all play nice.” she admonished. “And I might even have a little one with you, before I turn in for the night.”

  “We sharing the Coke Cola, John?” she queried

  “Got to!” he responded as I rose to share libations with my new found friends.

  20

  TRAPPING SEASON

  Hell, you could eat road kill and survive. I thought, as I remembered the reason for my heartburn and Sarah’s cooking last night, upon waking in the air freshener imbued car I finally crashed in last night. Now it’s 6am in the morning, gloom despair and misery on me. They got any coffee they willing to share I wondered, as I stretched the kinks of days journeying and the partying of last night out under the stars with John and his harmonica.

  Oh hell, the morning after. I think me and Sarah danced a jig to Johns wailing music, if I remember rightly. Well, onwards and upwards, lemme think, oh yeah, John can weld and was going to attach a lawn service trailer to my rig today, if he was still willing. That’s one art I never learned and we had talked about what good was that welding truck next to us with acetylene and oxygen tanks attached to the sides.

  “Morning David, I will have us a cup of coffee going momentarily.” he said fiddling with a camp stove.

  “I sure am glad I got this Coleman multi fuel stove, especially seeing that gasoline isn’t good for much these days.”

  “Be hard to run out of fuel for that out here, you won’t have to hardly use your propane at all.” I said watching him set the coffee pot upon it.

  “Morning, David. We had us a real shindig last night didn’t we.” She said cheerily.

  “That we did, John you still up for trying to weld a trailer hitch on my tractor after coffee?”

  “Sure I will, it won’t take long and would be my pleasure.” he said arranging coffee cups on a small table.

  “I might see some folks on the road that need a ride to Montgomery on down this way and I got supplies to haul around once I get there.” I said receiving a very welcome steaming mug of instant from Sarah.

  “Having a trailer might be just the thing, if it doesn’t slow me down too much.” I offered.

  “Sarah and I talked over your offer last night about taking us with you David, but we have decided to stay.” he said settling down in his chair.

  “We think we would be better off than most folk’s right out here” he said knowingly and then carrying on. “It appears that we got water, food and shelter aplenty, so what more could we want? The cities are going to get real bad, David”. He added.

  “Yeah I am dreading city life during this mess, but I don’t have any choice but to get there and bug in for now.” I said wearily.

  “John, that looks like some Sassafras trees over there on the bank”. I said pointing

  “The bark of the roots is used to make a pretty pleasant tasting "tea". The powdered leaves are used in Louisiana to thicken soup.” I said while rising to go over to the bushes.

  “Which ones? Show me.” Sarah said excitedly and rose to join me.

  “Sassafras is a tree with three different leaves. One is oval, one partly divided into three lobes, and one is mitten-shaped. The edges are smooth.” I instructed when we got next to them.

  “Here, smells this.” I said as I removed a leaf and crumpled it and handed it to Sarah.

  “Smells like Root Beer.” she laughed.

  “You can make tea with the leaves by pouring boiling water over a handful, letting them sit covered, away from the heat, 20 minutes, then straining out the leaves. But the roots of small saplings make an even better tea. You can use the root over again. To make root beer, chill the tea, then add drop of honey for sweetness. You can also chew on sassafras twigs to freshen your breath.”

  “Those mitten shaped leaves are easy to spot.” Sarah said looking around. Why it’s all over the place.” she gushed, pleased with her backyard finds.

  “People used to say it helps with rheumatism, but I just like the taste.” I offered wandering back towards the RV

  “Oh, I got an herbal book, I am going to go look it up.” she said energetically reaching for the trailer’s door.

  “David, you have time to refresh me on snaring today, before you take off?” John inquired moving towards my tractor and surveying where the best place was to add a hitch.

  “I can go over the basics while we are working on the tractor and we can put out a few sets, but
then I need to get going.” I replied, while following John over to the welding truck sitting on the side of the road.

  I then began to explain about traps and snares, while John got together what he needed from off the truck.

  “Snaring is one of the most efficient ways to harvest wild game and put meat in the pot. It takes less energy and a trapper will out produce a hunter any day. It is much easier to trap small prey than to hunt them. You’ll have several empty traps for every success, but having several traps out means twenty four hours a day you’re several times better off than a hunter.

  When setting a snare, look for signs of fur around a tree's base or signs along a fence line to indicate where an animal has passed through. Animals will return to the same place to sleep and will continue to negotiate fences at the same spot.

  Go hunting after you set traps, if you have a mind to, but I am sure your time and energy is better cherished doing other important tasks concerning other important current needs. To me sometimes-just rest is crucial.”

  John and I moved the tractor over to the welding truck and he was removing the hitch off the truck and getting ready to tack it on the back of the tractor as I continued.

  “One tip I will tell you, John, is when you are walking animal trails, walk directly in the center of the trail. You don’t want to be packing down the side of the trail and creating a new path or directing the animal away from your snare you have set dead in the middle of the trail.” I said while admiring his handiwork.

  “That ought to do her, let’s go get the junk off that trailer.” he said stepping away from his project.

  “You know John, those lawn mowers probably got fried batteries, but I bet you could maybe get one running or with those welding skills of yours you could probably rig up those weed eaters to run you a cart.” I said getting interested in the mechanical possibilities.

  “Wow, great idea! I could cobble something together, I am sure given time and time seems to be what I got the most of nowadays.” he said getting interested in the prospect of some transportation.