There's the tree Ted told me to climb if I had to. Should I climb the tree and let the bear tear Ted from limb to limb? If I shot, could I hit before it was too late? 0 Lord, my body ached. Could I even climb the tree? Last night was too much; we don't need this too! Don't move, keep cool think gal. God help us!"
My husband Ted, two sons, Lee and Greg, daughter Karla and I were camped 25 miles back into the Belt Mountains of Central Montana the first week of hunting season. We had been there over a week with intermittent rain and sun. This was a Sunday, a beautiful day, and one that caused good hunters to become less active. A day in camp seemed to be the main course. It was great, no pressures to get out and beat the brush or hike the ridges. We had plenty of time to just lay around. During the afternoon some friends from White Sulpher Springs pulled into camp with heaps of ready-to-eat chicken and lots of homemade cookies. What a blessing from the one-pot meals that had become routine. When our friends left, we had about three hours of daylight left. A short run up to a small area in a saddle seemed to be the calling. So all of us jumped into 'Charlie,' our old 67 pickup, and we headed to the top of a ridge. Parking Charlie in the saddle of the ridge, we dropped off into the canyon below.
Before we realized it, the daylight began to fade fast. We had a couple of flashlights and even had brought the Coleman lantern for tracking - nothing to be too concerned about as we did know the area.
Lee, our oldest son, was 19 at the time, Greg and Karla were 9 and 13, all seasoned campers and hunters and used to the unexpected. Lee had been in the shop with his dad building bows, a true partner. As darkness came on, we turned and headed back for the saddle and Charlie. The canyon we were in was narrow but open, with steep side hills, which toward the top the dense timber closed in. Darkness fell quickly, and to west we could see the flashes of lightning as a fast-moving storm came boiling in from the plains below. We hurried up our pace, as a storm in this country could be wicked. Ted and Lee were up the canyon quite a ways from the three of us. I lit the lantern when full darkness fell and decided to climb up the steep side hill to the pickup and let the other two go on up to the end of the canyon where it joined the road, a lot farther to go for shelter.
Bad thinking! The two kids and I climbed and reached the thick timber, believing that Charlie was just a short distance away now. The lantern was like a bubble of light, showing what was directly around us. All else was pitch black and the storm was moving in. We entered the thick timber, and going a short ways, I realized it was much denser and had turned into a blow down. This was not the right timber. This was not the right timber.
By this time, as we reached the open hillside again, Ted and Lee had gone over a little hump in the canyon and not the one light could be seen, just total blackness with the flashing of lightning and distant thunder rolling. We made our way back to the bottom of the canyon, knowing that at the end of the canyon the road would cross it, but it was a long haul. That awful fear that can creep into one's heart saying to push the panic button was trying to take over, but I knew the two kids were feeling the same as I, and what I did determined what they would do.
Pushing the fear down, we reached the bottom and started up. Going a short distance, the two flashlights again bobbed into sight. With a shout, we headed for them and the guys waited for us. They had been searching for our light as well, but didn't realize that the small hump had hidden us from them too. In the darkness I had taken the wrong side of the ridge to climb up. We had gone farther into the canyon, not realizing that the canyon would change so much in a short period of time. I would have been totally lost had I gone on into country with no roads or trails for a long ways.
As we headed on up the canyon, concern now was to get out quickly, as the storm seemed to pick up steam. The winds began picking up and the lightning seemed to be just a few ridges over with the thunder already deafening.
As we climbed the narrow bottom of the canyon, Ted and I had the same thoughts. "This isn't right. It's too easy walking." The canyon we were supposed to be in was rocky with a lot more boulders.
Soon Ted stopped the weary line of hikers and said, "What do you think?"
We all had the same thought: "It wasn't right!"
We, walked on and soon Ted stopped us again and said, "The trees on our left are getting too thick and the canyon has turned west. We were supposed to be going north. The storm is headed straight in 'from the west' and we are going directly towards it."
By this time the wind had really picked up, blowing the trees beside us into a frenzy. The noise became so loud that we no hear each other speak, but instead yelled to be heard. The lightning came screaming down just ahead on the ridges above.
Scanning the horizon during those flashes, I tugged on Ted's arm and said," I think we are in the canyon that goes up to Ant Park. If we are, we have a long walk ahead." We were headed directly away from the pickup. Since we missed the canyon where the two divided, we would hit the road eventually. We hurried on, and the kids never uttered a sound. I felt I could hear the two younger hearts pounding with the same fear I had. Being out here at night was one thing, but to have to weather a vicious storm was a whole different ball game.
We move along the bottom of the canyon heading up, each n our own thoughts, with the storm very close to being overhead. "How much longer, Lord?" was the big question. We hadn't gone too much father when a big bolt of lightning lit up the sky, lighting up the whole hillside. With a yell, I recognized twin snags just above us, and they stood just below the road. The gang stopped and looked at me with, " You better be right!" but by then I was already climbing towards the snags that had flashed before my eyes.. The rest followed, and in jubilation we climbed over the bank onto the road. We still had over a mile to cover, but all downhill and we knew where we were at tand where we were going. The storm seemed to press in harder. The winds now had the trees whipping, and the flashes of lightning were at our heels Thunder seemed to be everywhere at once, never ceasing. The urgency to reach Charlie on the saddle below us caused our steps to take wings to cover that long mile ahead of us.
Reaching the last bend in the road, we saw the big silent form of Charlie in the flashes of lightening that now were on top of us Breathing a sigh of relief, we sailed by his big nose. I reached out and gave him a pat and piled into the cab behind the kids. As we untangled our legs, arms and bodies inside the cab, the heavens let loose with torrents of rain with the thunder and lightening coming simultaneously. Ted turned Charlie around, heading back down the ridge and then dropping off in to our canyon, where the old teepee nestled - home in our hearts.
Outrunning the storm to camp. We got a roaring fire going in the stove, settled back, not saying too much, each one going over the chain of events in our minds, and then the storm hit. The poles danced, as if they were alive, sending up their own rhythm in time with the gust that poured down the canyon. The thunder joined in, seeming to make the ground tremble. Lightening flashed even through the heavy green canvas, making the coleman lantern look like candles. The onslaught lasted over an hour. Calmness settled in to the steady beat of rain on the canvas. We were warm and dry.
During this time I noticed that Karla was sitting looking at her feet. When I looked at them, they were covered with bloody blisters and yet not one word did she say until then. The rest of us had not suffered as much as she did. I know that Greg's little legs had to take twice the number of steps asa ours, but again no one complained during the whole ordeal. Those two were keepers. Lee's encouragement laced with a sense of humor kept the fear in check, and Ted's jirm, steady control kept us from going into pandemonium.
I reached for the clock to set the alarm it read 2 a.m. Needless to say, the alarm was not set. AS we settled in our beds and listened to the storm as it raced on down the canyons beyond us, a small little voice came from Greg's bed. "Dad, Mom, I wasn' afraid, because when we are together , we can whip anything."
"That's right, son." Ted answered. With that we drifted off to sleep.
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