The setting seemed to be like that of a Tarzan movie. When the English people are on safari king for elephant tusk. Everything starts off ok, and then suddenly you’re placed in a totally negative situation where it would seem to be the end. This is how my adventures started. I guess I should introduce myself before I tell you my stories. My name is Roger “B”. The “B” is another story. I’m a freelance detective living in Atlanta, Georgia. As a Native American, adventure is my life, as you’ll soon see. Well, that’s enough for now. So, if you’re ready, let’s go on an adventure. The story begins at base camp near the Sauk River, northeast of Seattle, Washington. Where a few people and I were waiting anxiously to start exploring a few caves, do a little hiking and my favorite since the age of six, white water rafting.
The wilderness was like home to me. It’s the only place in the world that still moves slowly. There’s no concrete, just soft earth under your feet. The air is so fresh, that you can use it to flush the carbon out of your lungs from the city life. There is nothing here but the basic elements for survival. For the next couple of days, I’m going to enjoy as much nature as possible.
“Hi, my name is Wendy. So, what brings you here to this neck of the woods?” “Hi, my name is Roger, Umm...the nature, and all the open area. So, you come here often?” She laughed for a second and then said, “I hope that was a joke, but no. I don’t get to travel that much, and a friend of mine couldn’t make this trip. So, I decided that since he was offering a free vacation, I should take it.” “Is your friend sick?” “No, he had other plans that came up all of a sudden.” “Ah...I’m happy that you could make it. Otherwise, I’d be here talking to your friend. And just between you and I, I think that your legs are much slender and sexier.” “Thanks, Oh! The lecture is starting.” We were being instructed by one of the guides to stay close and not to wander off too far during any of the hikes.
I was very busy skylarking to even be aware of the instructions that were being given at the time. One of the females that was in my group nudged me in my side so I would pay attention. There were only two guides, so we were paired off into two groups of four. Wendy was in my group. “OK everyone, my name is Mr. Carols. I’ll be your guide. For those of you who have never been on a hike before, I have a few does and don’ts you shall be interested in. One, don’t wander off. Two, if you are faced with any kind of danger from an animal out here and feel that your life is being threatened, just play dead and the animal will leave you alone. Three, don’t wander off. These rules are for your own protection. Are there any questions?”
Given the opportunity I thought I’d lighten up the group by saying, “Yes, I have a question. If one of us goes to the bathroom, does that mean that we all have to go...you know...just to make sure that person doesn’t wander off?” From his following looks, I don’t think that he found the comment humorous. After his speech we were on our way for an enjoyable day. I looked at my watch and the time read 2 p.m.
A couple of hours had passed before we came to the jagged entrance of a cave. This was one of the sights for an Indian burial. The view from here was magnificent. I could see everything. To my right, past the tall pines was base camp, and to the left of that was the river, “My final glorious and lovely destination.” If you look down the path, you could barely see where it starts to turn into the rapids. Part of the river also flowed past the westward half of this mountain.
We stayed in the cave for a few minutes, long enough to get a little history of the burials and who might be buried there. I’ll have to find out later if this is one of the sights of my relatives. After a while, I looked at my watch again and saw that the time was 4:59pm. By this time the guide was starting to sum up his story, so we could get back to camp for dinner.
Later that night after dinner everyone was telling their version of a campfire tale. Since I was not interested, I asked Wendy if she wanted to take a walk with me to enjoy the night air. We stood around taking deep breaths of the pine scents, it was so exhilarating. There was also a half moon out that seemed to be the spark for a good ghost story. As we walked away we made sure not to lose sight of camp.
“So Roger, are you enjoying the sights?” Since I was facing in her direction, I replied immediately with a sharp, “Yeah!” “I’m talking about the outdoors,” she said, with a smile on her face. “Oh! Of course; I was talking about the same thing,” I said, while pulling my tasty leather boot out of my mouth.
She walked closer to me, grabbed my hand, sat me down beside her, and persisted in getting comfortable like a cat in a blanket. “Now that I’m warm, how about a ghost story?” she said, while I was focusing on her lips. Those were the next words I was hoping to hear, not! But I told one anyway.
“On a cold and dark night like this one, fourteen years ago there lived a lumberjack named Bob the Bearren. No one ever talked to the Bearren. They feared him, because of the deformity of his face. He was a loner, who only came to town when he needed supplies.
“One day while the police were driving past the woods, they noticed that Bob’s lights were on and his door was wide open. One of the policemen decided to take a look. After searching his house and the area, Bob was nowhere to be found. In the yard near a large tree was a puddle of blood. Pieces of material were shredded all over the place. Bob was never found and no one ever found out what happened.
“Two weeks after that night, on a winding stretch of road near Bob’s old cabin, drove an old lady. She was on her way home. Ahead of her was a man walking on the side of the road. She hardly paid any attention to him as she drove by. A few miles down the road he appeared ahead of her again, walking aimlessly. Feeling a bit curious, she decided to stop. She pulled over and waited for him to catch up before she said, ‘excuse me, do you need any help?’ as he approached the passenger side. He just stood there. Her breathing started to thicken, as fear entered her mind for the first time. She lowered her head to get a better look at him. That’s when she noticed the blood dripping from his neck. All of a sudden he shoves his head in the passenger window, and said, ‘Yes! Could you help me find my face?’ It appeared that the flesh from his face had been ripped off. Without another second to spare, she drove off with the reminder of bloody hand prints on the door. Fearing that no one would believe her, she never reported what happened.
“Sometimes when people are hiking through these woods, they can hear Bob asking for help to find his face.” “THERE HE IS!” Wendy jumped straight up, and I started laughing. “Oh my goodness Roger, you really scared me. Thanks for the slight heart attack.”
After that we walked for a few more minutes, and then decided to turn in. The next morning I was told to go and retrieve some fresh water. On my way to the stream, I imagined myself looking like a true sportsman during the rafting competition. Maneuvering the raft right, left, avoiding all the rocks in the way. Controlling every twist and turn conquering the devastation of the rapids. The guides called these rapids “The Wash Away Rapids.” Because one wrong move, and that’s exactly what would happen to any rafter.
This was the ultimate goal and challenge. After breakfast, I chose to take a walk alone to help my food digest. Touring through the woods, I started to notice that every inch of the woods looked similar. Afterwards the whole area became a maze, scene after scene. I had no idea where I was. It would have been quite simple to just look for the smoke from the fire, except for one small problem. Earlier when we finished breakfast, I was responsible for extinguishing the cinder and ashes. I continued to walk in one direction, in hopes of getting some kind of a clue for where to go next. I soon came to a cliff. “Now I am lost.” It was a steep cliff, a cliff to the imagination reached higher than any skyscraper. Especially since the bottom was nowhere in sight. If that wasn’t enough, out of nowhere came a mountain lion, and beyond him somewhere past the trees, was my freedom.
I remember the guide saying to play dead and the animal would go away, but by the look in this cat’s eye, he was there to stay. So I did the next best thing, I waited. Patience has never been my strong point, but that day I had a little extra boost that provided me with enough patience to wait out a war. As time progressed, the mountain lion started getting another look in his eye. This one was the look of a villain in the Wild West, who was about to set his guns blazing, as he charged me. So I took one step forward, which caused him to take a few steps my way. “Not good,” I thought. Suddenly, I heard a sound coming from the bushes behind this massive cat. “Yes, I’m saved,” crossed my mind, and a sense of peace consumed my fast beating heart. You would think that soon, all of this would be considered a nightmare or a bad dream, right! No, because instead of whom I was expecting, it turned out to be another mountain lion. Fantastic, now there are two hungry mouths foaming in my direction. “Where is that medium rare steak when you need it?” I always thought that if I died, it would be fast and painless. “The river below is probably not that deep, so if I jump, I may not survive the fall,” is what I was thinking long and hard on. Well, it seemed long, because every second brought me closer and closer to my death.
I turned around, closed my eyes, and said a prayer while I was taking a leap of faith. In no time at all I was submerged in an ice cold river. Cold enough to send me into shock, because for a while I felt that time had stopped, and there was nothing happening. I envisioned myself to be dead, and had not yet passed over to the other side. I was not sure. Then I began to sense my movement. “I’m alive!” I thought while floating down the river. “Yes, I’m safe,” ran through my mind, until I realized that I could drown in here. I tried to make my way to the top of the water. After a while I made it, which was just enough time to prepare myself for what lie ahead. Not too far was a tree that had fallen across the river. That’s when I realized why it took me so long to get to the top of the water earlier. My right shoulder was dislocated. Therefore, in order for me to reach the branch that was hanging down, I would have to shift my body around, and grab hold with my left hand. My, can’t catch a ball hand. No time for error today. If I can’t grab this branch I’m gone for sure. This wasn’t my only problem. I also had to worry about keeping myself afloat.
“OK, now or never.” I tried to stay steady while bobbing up and down. “No! I missed it,” but at that same instant I was caught by someone’s hand. “Is it too premature to think to myself that I was finally safe? Maybe, but by the looks of things I would have to say no.” I was pulled to shore by a strange man who I had never seen before. He gave me a blanket to cover up with. He turned out to be a rescue ranger.
Later, at the hospital, I was told that the rescue team was called by some hikers who had reported me missing. The rescuer, whose name was Alex; told me that they had spotted me on the cliff shortly before I jumped. “If I had to guess I would say that you are one lucky person. Jumping from that cliff and surviving is a prayer answered” said Alex. I was also told that Wendy was the one who had reported me missing. “I truly am one lucky person.”
That afternoon, Wendy came by after conquering the rapids. She was happy that everything turned out alright. She said she was on her way back home, and just wanted to drop through to say bye. So before leaving we shared one last kiss to wish each other good luck in life.