In "My Epilepsy Story" I wrote about how I'd enjoyed almost perfect health for the first 48 years of my life. It's good that I decided back when I was young and wild to see the world and make some memories that I could look back on when I became old and decrepit. There's a saying back where I come from that fits me pretty well:
Been there. Done that. I've got the t-shirt...
Some people pack a huge backpack, stick out their thumb, and hitchhike out into the big wide world.
Not so with me. I decided I'd let myself be paid for my adventures and took a job as a long distance truck driver, which took me into the farthest reaches of the USA. Not only the cities and towns but out into the raw, untamed wilderness as well. I loved that the most, the wild and lonely places. After I'd finished with the USA I went to Europe and did the same (which I must say was pretty tame in comparison), all the way to Russia and back.
I'm so glad I did that now. I will never again be able to do such things now that I've got Epilepsy.
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| Kenworth Anteater |
I want to write about the wildest and most dangerous ride I ever had.
I was driving a big, fire red Kenworth anteater with a powerful motor built for the mountains and wild terrain of the American west. I loaded lumber at Medford, Oregon one day, bound for Denver, Colorado. That's all well and good but there are no freeways leading directly from Medford to Denver. You have to go the long way around, adding several hundred miles to the journey. There is, however, a short cut: one small, two lane road running across 5000 square miles of wild and untouched desert. Except for that one road that country is just as it had been the day God created it. Now it's a touchy thing to take off into unknown territory in an 18-wheeler, and I was overloaded on top of that. I managed to find another driver at a truck stop who had been through there before. He said that you could make it through if you were careful, but you had better "Screw your balls on tight". He also said to take plenty of food and water since you'd need several days to walk out of there if your truck broke down. There is no help anywhere around. One is completely alone in a forgotten world.
He said that he would never, ever drive through there again, it was just too dangerous.
Perfect for me and my thirst for adventure...
I bought some supplies and plenty of water, and lots and lots of coffee. If I ended up having to try and walk back to civilization for any reason I just wasn't going to do it without coffee!
Then I shifted that 16-speed Road Ranger transmission into first gear, let out the clutch, and away I went...
How can I describe that country? How can I convey the feeling, the sound, the sights, or the smell of that country? The vast plains? The towering mountains? The insurmountable mesas? The unimaginable colors? The indescribable wildness of it all, raw and untouched by human hands? It is incredible. The land lives and breathes. You have to see it to believe it. You have to feel it for yourself. I was overwhelmed. I was awestruck. It made me aware of how small I am. It made me realize that mankind is but a wisp of vapor. We consider ourselves to be so important, take ourselves oh so seriously. The land, the earth, is eternal. It is patient and immovable. It is pure and unadulterated. It is not in the least impressed by us and our running around buying and selling, our petty squabbles. It has seen peoples and nations come and go, but it is still there. I suspect that it's just waiting for mankind to wipe itself off the map so that the scars we have caused upon it can heal and it can be whole again.
We are but vapor...
We are of no real importance...
After many, many hours of crossing vast plains and traversing high mountain passes I came upon an especially gargantuan Mountain range. As I began to ascend it became so steep that I was forced to shift that Road Ranger down into 1st gear, and that big truck barely made way. I could have gotten out and walked faster than that truck was moving. If it had gotten any steeper that truck would have stopped dead in its tracks and my journey would have been over.
The road led up that mountain through a serpentine with curves so tight that the end of my trailer sometimes scraped on the rock wall to my left and my right front tire was just inches from the drop off. There were no guard rails, and wait, what did that sign say? Elevation 12,000 feet? Pfew...
I'm not afraid to admit that I was starting to become nervous. Really nervous. Really, really nervous! My hands were becoming cold and clammy and the sweat was beginning to pour out from under that big, black cowboy hat I was wearing! One wrong move and that big machine and I would plummet over 2 miles down into the valley, and if those curves got any tighter that truck would become jammed between the rock wall and a 12,000 foot drop. If there had been a mountain goat up there its hair would have been standing on end. But there was no going back! No way to back down that mountain. My only option was to keep going forward...
But the view!!! I won't even attempt to describe it, it's not possible. If you want to see it you're going to have to go there yourself- but do not do it in an 18-wheeler! Ride a horse...
I don't remember just how long that ascent continued, but it was several hours before I finally reached the top, and just when I thought things couldn't get worse, they did.
The road... disappeared...!!!
All that was left was a dirt track leading off into the distance...!!! And I was so high up that nothing even grew there. There was nothing but dirt.
And me in an overloaded 18-wheeler...
I was in trouble, real trouble. More trouble than I'd been in throughout my entire life. And I was alone, completely alone, hundreds of miles away from the nearest human being.
I was scared. I was petrified.
I got out of that truck and sat down by the "road", shaking like a leaf, trembling from head to toe, sick to my stomach, unable to think, completely paralyzed. I didn't feel human anymore. My entire being had been reduced to a lump of raw, unadulterated fear...
There's no telling how long I sat there, paralyzed, unable to act, but it must have been a long time. When I finally began to be able to think again I realized that I simply had no other option than to just go on. There was no going back. It was bust or die. It was thoroughly possible that this would be my last day on earth, but if it was at least I'd go out having seen some wild and beautiful country! Who wants to leave this world in a nice, warm, comfy bed with a cup of tea in their hand?
So I got up, splashed water on my face and got behind the wheel. I released the brakes and began moving forward. I felt better. Much better.
What a ride! Hell yeah!
I don't remember how long that dirt track went on but at some point the road appeared again and began a slow, easy decent with nice, wide curves. I could see for a hundred miles and the world around me was filled with beautiful stone arches, pillars of rock, sandstone rock walls, and towering mesas, all of it clothed in wild, impossible colors. It was breathtaking, indescribable, tremendous, beyond words. I made that descent with tears flowing down my face, I was so moved by it all.
What a ride! Hell yeah!
I never wanted to go home again! I wanted to stay there forever...
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| Longhorn steer |
When I reached the valley floor the road began to wind along beside a peaceful, gently flowing river. On and on I drove through that desert paradise. Little did I know that the next challenge was awaiting me just around the bend. There was a gigantic longhorn steer, fearsome and awe-inspiring, standing in the middle of the road and blocking the way. Now what was that steer doing there in the middle of the wilderness? Well, back in the pioneer days people drove herds of cattle through that area on their way to Oregon or Washington state and lost some along the way. Those cattle survived and multiplied throughout the ensuing years and have become wild creatures. A wild longhorn steer is one of the most dangerous animals on earth. A steer like that would be hard to kill, even with a 50 caliber rifle, should it become necessary, and all I had with me was a silver-plated 380 semi-automatic handgun. If he became angry and attacked I wouldn't stand a chance. I stopped and we faced each other there on that road. I think that steer was more curious than anything else, but he had no intention whatsoever of moving off that road. We stayed there for quite a while, just looking at each other, me hoping he would lose interest and move on. But he didn't. After all, this was his country, not mine. He belonged here, I didn't. I finally put that truck into gear and left the road, making a wide arc around him and hoping he wouldn't get upset and charge the truck. Nobody ever claimed that longhorn steers posses any great degree of intelligence and there was no telling what he might do. All the while I was praying that my truck wouldn't bog down and get stuck. It didn't, and that steer let me pass, watching me closely all the while. When I got past him and back onto the road I lowered my window and wished Mr. Longhorn a nice day, then continued on my way.
I guess it must have been the next day when I once again reached civilization, and I was a little sorry, I must admit.
I'd do it again in a heartbeat...
On a side note: the photos I've included here are not photos that I myself took during that wild and beautiful ride. I principally took no photos on any of my journeys. They were my adventures, and mine alone. The only photos I ever took were with my eyes and they are lodged forever in my mind. I will never forget.
I always figured that if anyone else wanted to see the things I've seen then they should get off the couch and go there themselves...
What a ride! Hell yeah!
Been there. Done that. I've got the t-shirt ;-)
