by Linda Mackay
Arriving at our new campsite that circus was now in the process of unloading gear. “Mac says there’s a big storm coming with high winds, so help him set up a secure line of tents,” I said.
“Holy wind tunnel, Batman,” Todd said.
“I hate camping in high winds.” Amanda threw her packs on the ground with enough force to create her own small earthquake.
“I assume there’s a lot of extra work when anticipating high winds,” Liz said.
“Yes, and its good and bad there are so many trees,” I said. “They protect us from the worst of the winds, but the trees can also blow over or limbs break on top of us.”
Mac deferred to me as I searched the area for a place we could erect three tents very close together. I moved further into the trees away from the original tent pads created by the assassins.
“Over here,” Todd yelled.
We ran to his location. “What’s the problem?” I asked.
“No problem, I found a place to pitch the tents.”
Amanda smacked him on the back of the head. “A campsite is not a reason to cry wolf.”
Todd touched his nose and then Amanda’s nose. “Don’t smack me again or you don’t get dessert.”
“Okay.”
Liz was looking at the Boobsy Twins like we’d fallen down the rabbit hole. Amanda was playing nice and it was not processing in Liz’s brain.
“The nose deal is their safe signal.” I said unpacking the tent from the saddlebag I had thrown over my shoulder.
Shaking her head, Liz laughed. “That’s the weirdest fucking safe signal I’ve ever heard of.”
“She said the “F” word. Five bucks in the boot,” Todd said.
“What’s the deal with not saying fuck?”
“That’s another five.”
Todd put his arm around Liz and leaned in like he was giving her top-secret information. “You see, Jorie says the “F” word when she’s mad. Frank said she must be mad all the time, and she needed to clean up her mouth and her attitude.”
“He did not say I had a bad attitude.” He might have implied it. But, you’d have a bad attitude too if a bunch of goons chased you across Yellowstone trying to kill you.
“Why include the rest of us in her punishment?” Liz was smiling and enjoying this conversation at my expense.
“Monkey see, monkey do,” Todd continued. “Frank said it wouldn’t hurt the rest of us to clean up also.”
“He said with our foul mouths we should be able to buy something really expensive in under six months,” Amanda said.
“They get to vote on what they buy.” Mac told Liz. “That’s a meeting I wouldn’t miss for the world.”
“I’ll bet fifty, a fight breaks out in under ten minutes.” Liz was definitely enjoying this too much. “Do I need to be present to win?”
“Yes, and I’ll take that bet, and I say under five minutes.” Mac looked at Liz. “You good with five minute increments?”
“I’m good.”
“Hold the effin phone.”
“I say that’s another five in the boot, and sounds like Jorie’s gonna argue the bet,” Todd said. “But first, I take the under 20 time slot.”
“There’s no way we can bet on ourselves,” I said. “To easy to fix the bet.”
Liz’s bubble burst. “She’s got a point.”
“They may be out, but every cowboy on the ranch will want in on this bet,” Mac said.
“It’s a dumb bet anyway because no one’s going to fight. We’re getting a hot tub for Joe and Jorie’s big house so we don’t need to use Gramps’ tub,” Amanda said.
“That would be nice,” Todd said. “I’m tired of that hot tub having dog hairs in it.”
“I’m tired of cleaning it out.” My dogs, Nuk and Spit, believe the hot tub is their personal pond. Since Gramps paid for the behemoth party tub, he makes the rules. He grew up swimming in ponds and rivers with his dogs, and has made it clear if we don’t want to share with them, then we can get our own tub. The filter and motor on his hot tub are either clogged or broken on a regular basis. But since the tub is a Gramps dictatorship, no one else’s vote counts. The ranch mechanic, who is regularly called on to repair the hot tub, doesn’t get a vote either. However, he now refuses to fix it more than every two months.
“I thought you wanted an 80-inch TV for Joe’s house, so you could ditch that little model left over from the 90s.” Mac was stirring the pot.
Todd emptied a tent out of his bag. “That would be awesome.”
“Maybe we should build a sauna,” Amanda said.
“Let’s set up camp and table this discussion till after dinner.” Mac smiled at me, knowing he’d muddied the waters on the hot tub issue more than my dogs had.
I’d say the “F” word again, but it would cost me another five.
Todd flipped open his tent, and Amanda popped open ours. “Can we have tacos for dinner?” Amanda asked.
“That sounds great, and it’s easy.” Todd staked down his and Mac’s tent. “Wish I’d brought the fixing for margaritas.”
“We’ll make do with tequila shots,” Amanda said. “I also have flavored vodka, spiced rum, and scotch.”
Liz looked at Amanda. “Where did you have room to pack a fully stocked bar?”
Dumping one of her saddle packs on the ground, out fell make-up, hair products, several different kinds of bio-degradable soap, three mirrors, and dozens of single-serving plastic bottles of liquor.”
Liz picked up a bottle of mango vodka and downed it. “Wish I’d known about this last night, I’m not a fan of whiskey.”
“You can’t be a cowboy if you don’t drink whiskey,” Todd said.
“Fine by me. I’d rather soak in that new hot tub and drink vodka.”
Amanda started to open an orange vodka, but Mac grabbed it.
“No drinking till camp is set up,” Mac said.
That was all the incentive we needed. After all three tents were staked down, we tied them together and then tied them to the lodgepole pines. To help weigh down the inside floor and to protect the saddles from the predicted fierce storm, we stacked two saddles on one side of Liz’s tent, and the others tied under a tarp outside. Mac and Todd were on their own if their combined weight couldn’t hold the tent against the wind.
Once the storm began, our biggest challenge would be keeping the snow from building up on the outside of the tents and collapsing them. We would also keep some freeze-dried food and a camp stove in a tent in case we were unable to retrieve them from our bear bags hung high in the trees. Leaving my tent in a blizzard was a risk I’d only taken on a couple of occasions and I’d prefer not to do it again. I also hate eating in my tent, since once the smell of food infiltrates it, the fear of being the next meal for a hungry bear doesn’t allow me to enjoy deep sleep.
I wasn’t even going to consider the possibility I wouldn’t get my morning coffee. As far as I was concerned the reward outweighed the risk when it came to coffee.
With camp ready for the storm, Todd made tacos from the freeze-dried supplies of taco meat, cheese and onions, and rolled them in flour tortillas. Mac limited us to two tequila shots each. I agreed, above the protests of the discord duo. Last thing I wanted was someone wandering off totally crocked to pee and getting lost in a blizzard.
“What are the two things you can’t live without?” Todd asked.
“Trying a new game besides trivia?” Mac laughed while zipping his coat up against the growing intensity of the wind.
“Thought we needed a change. I can’t live without sex and watching American Ninja Warrior.”
Amanda went next. “I can’t live without my hairstylist and my make-up.”
“Of course you can’t,” Todd said.
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with my list. Honestly, if the world was ending you couldn’t survive without sex, and sweaty bodies on an obstacle course?”
“What would be the point of continuing,” Todd shrugged.
“Without good hair and make-up I wouldn’t leave home without being self-conscious.”
“My turn,” I interrupted. “I choose coffee and rules.”
Mac laughed. “I understand coffee, but rules?”
“The world would be in total chaos if we didn’t have rules or laws.” I was feeling smug for not offering ridiculous items like make-up and ninja warriors.
“If the world has chosen an anarchical path, I highly doubt your rules are going to be followed by anyone but you,” Mac said. “I can’t live without solitude and rib-eyes.”
“Explain how rib-eyes are more important than rules,” I said.
“Rib-eyes I can eat. And I can eat in peace if I have solitude. Don’t think your rules are going to feed your skinny butt.”
A skinny butt? I was still drifting in the skinny butt comment when Todd asked Liz her choices.
“This is a silly game. Guns and ammo,” Liz said.
Todd laughed, “I’ll take ninjas and sex any armageddon over guns and ammo.”
“At least you’ll die happy,” Liz said. “Even if I am the one that has to shoot you.”
“At least let me finish watching Ninjas before you shoot,” Todd said.
Liz and Todd were bonding. Just great. Another interloper wins over my crew. Before long they’ll expect me to attend dinner parties at restaurants during high tourist season. My panic grew thinking about it.
“You’ve all had your fun,” Mac said. “Now, I want to know seriously, what you believe the two things are you can’t live without in a survival situation.”
“I’ll go first,” Todd said. “Water and my horse.”
“Why the horse?” Mac asked.
“The horse can be used for transportation, hunting, and farming.”
“Okay, Amanda, you’re next.”
“I’d want shelter and water.”
“Jorie?” Mac asked.
“Water and fire.”
“Liz, your turn,” Mac said.
“Water and food source.”
“I agree with Liz,” Mac said.
“Can I assume you two agree because you are trained to agree?” I asked.
“In a way, yes,” Mac said.
“Shelter is supposed to be first,” Amanda said.
“We all agree on water, so I’ll explain why I disagree on the shelter. Without a source of water and food you won’t last long in an extended disaster situation.” Liz was obviously ready to talk instead of observe. “I’ll assume all of us are capable of starting a fire without matches, and while we need shelter, the prime goal after water is getting yourself to a location that has a food source, then setting up shelter there.”
“I take it we aren’t talking about surviving for a short period of time,” Todd said.
“Exactly. I’m talking about surviving in a situation that lasts for months.”
“How did we get from make-up to mass extinction?” Amanda asked.
“Bet all of you are glad I kept my horse,” Todd said.
“You could eat it if you had to.” Liz said matter-of-factly.
Amanda cringed, “That’s gross. I’m not eating a horse.”
“You’d be surprised what you’ll eat if you’re starving to death,” Mac said.
“Well, at least she’ll be starving with good hair and full make-up,” Todd pranced around the fire.
I watched Mac and Liz and realized this was not a game to them. They were sizing up the group. Making mental notes. I’d seen Mac do this in July when the assassins were chasing us. I wasn’t sure why he was doing it again, unless it was for Liz’s benefit.
The cliff is steep and the runners can’t see the edge.
It was my mother.
Remember to choose wisely.
Her words filtered through my conscience like mist on a humid morning sticks to your skin reminding you it is there.
Follow.
My mother was gone and someone else had entered my thoughts. The wind gust came out of nowhere and in my meditative relaxed state almost knocked me over from my cross-legged position by the fire.
“Looks like the storm is sending out her first calling card,” Todd said. “Jorie, better check your barometer.”
I slowly moved to the tent without speaking. I heard Liz asking, “What’s her problem?” Unzipping the tent I looked at the barometer I’d hooked on a clip at the top of the tent. I had no idea what the group was saying to explain my altered mind state to Liz, but I did know nature was about to unleash on us.
Walking back to the campfire I tried to communicate with whatever animal had said, follow. I was positive that comment wasn’t from my mom, but my mind had gone blank. “The air pressure has submarined. Time to take shelter.”
Todd dumped the last of the coffee and rinsed the pot. “Sorry, little fellow,” he said, “you’re going to be in the tent with me so no stinking it up and luring in a bear.” Todd put the pot to his ear. “He said he was going to need a perk for behaving.”
“This is what happens when you let him have two tequilas,” Amanda said. “Sure glad he’s in the tent with you, Mac.”
“I’ll take his little perk and his little pot since that means we have the food source.”
“Jorie and I have the booze, which is as good as water in my opinion.”
“I’ll give you a hundred dollars for several of those vodkas,” Liz said.
“Got your back, sister.” Amanda tossed her an assortment.
Headlamps on we stood by the now dead-out fire. Mac had thrown a dish washing pan full of dirty water on the fire and then used a small shovel to bury it before any wind gusts blew embers into the trees. The last forest fires in the area had been doused by the snowstorm last week. Even if the fire danger was low, we weren’t taking chances. Until the storm blew through, our only warmth would come from our clothes and winter sleeping bags. The first snowflakes began to fall. Both the air and ground temps were cold enough there would be little snow melting till the storm passed.
A blast of wind hit my face with snow and ice pellets making it sting. “That’s it. I’ll see you on the other side.”
“I hope to hell she means on the other side of the storm,” Liz said to Mac.
“Me too.”
Chapter 10
I’m dying!”
“Don’t be so dramatic.” Amanda was sick. Not the dying sick of her estimation. But the she has a bad sore throat and no one wants to share it sick. My watch read 3:12 a.m. I didn’t have a choice; everyone was about to join in the early wake-up call.
“I need medicine,” Amanda begged.
“I’m on it.” Unzipping the tent I stepped out into a blizzard. Liz’s tent was between the men’s and ours. Taking hold of the rope we’d secured between the tents I inched my way down the line. “Todd.” The wind took my words and blew them to Montana.
I unzipped their tent and stuck my head into the barrel of a pistol. “In this storm you were expecting intruders?” Forcing my way between them we were now like a sardine sandwich. Todd zipped the tent flap closed.
“Sorry,” Mac said, “reflexes.”
“Amanda is sick. I need to get the medicine out of the hanging pack.”
“Holy, survival mistake #42,” Todd said. “Never leave medicine out of reach in a blizzard.”
“Do we have extra rope?” Mac asked.
“Just the rope I was going to hang myself with,” I said.
“What?”
“She means the extra rope is in the pack too,” Todd yelled over the wind flapping the sides of the tent.
“Actually, the extra rope is in my tent. I was saving it for when this trip went to hell.”
“You get the rope. Don’t hang yourself yet, and we’ll meet you in a few at your tent,” Mac said.
Walking back to the tent a hand grabbed my leg. I bent down and Liz spoke into my good ear. “What’s up?”
“Besides the fact you scared my heart into arrhythmia, Amanda is sick and we’re getting medicine from the
hanging bag.”
“Need help?”
“Not unless we lose the rope we’re tied to and get lost. Then you can take care of Amanda if we die.”
“Will do.”
I’m not sure what disturbed me more; the joke I’d made about dying or that Liz expected it to happen. Retrieving the rope from my tent, I discovered Amanda had gone silent. A sure sign the pain in her throat outweighed the need to complain. Todd and Mac arrived and we tied the extra rope to the tree next to it.
“Who has the best sense of direction storm blind?” Mac asked.
Todd yelled, “Normally, Jorie, but I counted the steps from our tent to the bear bags.”
“Good man, lead out.”
I followed Todd, and Mac was at the back. We’d tied the bear bags much closer to camp than normal for easier emergency access. After Todd ran into several trees as we moved forward he reached the counted off distance, with rope to spare. “I tied a scarf to the tree rope and secured it to the tree trunk.” Todd yelled back at us.
“Everyone squat down,” Mac said.
I grabbed their jacket sleeves. “Under no circumstances do we let go of the rope or at least another person.”
“Agreed.”
Applying our math and physics knowledge, along with backcountry skills, we moved forward. Mac held the rope, I held his hand, and Todd held mine. Moving like a technical drawing compass, we created an arc until Todd grabbed the scarf identifying the tree with our bag.
“I’ll untie the bag rope, but as soon as I do it’s going to drop like a rock. The wind is too strong to control its descent,” Todd’s voice barely carried over the wind. Once the bag hit the ground, Mac held the rope on the bag while Todd searched for the medicine pouch. “Got it.”
“Todd and I will pull the bag back up, Jorie hang on to my pants leg so we don’t separate.”
Our faces and outerwear covered in snow, we looked like three abominable snow people. It would be easier to find a cotton ball in the snow than locate each other if we separated. Todd and Mac fought the weight of the bag in the wind. They counted off the pulls to the bag and estimated it was high enough. Todd tied off the bag. “There’s more extra rope here than before, but I don’t think we could pull it any higher in this wind.”
