A Trip Gone Wrong

I'm sure everyone reading this is pretty in tune with that fact that Jarred and I are obsessed with mountain biking (among other things). After three weeks of not biking due to horse shows and being sick, we got back on our bikes yesterday for some fun at Post Canyon. I surprised myself at how excited I was to be back on my bike after just two weeks of not riding. I felt like a kid with a new toy. Biking has made us appreciate the wonderful trails the Gorge and our other favorite areas have to offer. It has also made us realize that nature does not create biking trails for our pleasure. The creation and maintenance of trails takes endless hours of clearing downed trees, raking trails, lopping off overhanging branches...work that the Forest Service could do if there weren't so many hiking/biking fanatics wanting and building new trails (and the lack of funding allotted to the Forest Service). A number of bikers and hikers have created groups to maintain the trails the Forest Service cannot get to. Jarred and I decided we too needed to give back to what we really enjoy so we joined the Northwest Trail Alliance. Admittedly, Jarred has spent many more hours than I, clearing trails. I think he really just likes to use his big-ass chainsaw. His latest project is a 15 or so mile trail, Siouxon Creek, about 30 miles from our house. Siouxon is a popular hiking and biking trail that saw mass destruction after last winter's snow storm. Jarred has spent many hours on the Siouxon trail with whomever will accompany him and rake, lop or help him move logs.

Last weekend, while I was off riding Nic, he managed to round up two able bodies to help him finish clearing Siouxon Creek. Off he went, last Sunday morning, big-ass chainsaw in hand with promises to return by 7 pm. After a day of horse fun, I returned home at 7:30 Sunday evening. I didn't think twice about Jarred not being home, as he can get carried away with trail maintenance and running his big-ass chainsaw but when 9 pm rolled around, I began to worry a bit. I woke up at 10:30 and worried a little more. I started to imagine chain saw accidents and men stuck under fallen trees. At midnight my imagination ran wild and I considered the fact that I should probably consider either calling 911 or driving out to look for the hooligans. I decided to call my trusty friend, Meghan Faherty for advice (I also figured she was one of my few friends awake at midnight). Meghan advised me to wait until 1 am and then take action. One rolled around and still no word from Jarred or his two helpers. I called 911 and explained the situation. After realizing that little help was going to come from some cops and a dispatcher who didn't even know where Siouxon Creek was, I hopped in my truck and headed out to be the knight (not sure of what a female knight would be called) in shining armor who could (hopefully) save the three lost souls stuck in the woods. In all reality, I wasn't sure what I would do if I didn't find the three woodsmen at their car (or hiking out to the road because their car was broke down) but I figured I'd deal with that issue when I didn't find them. I decided to be optimistic and assume I'd find them somewhere in the thirty miles between our house and the unmarked trail head.

At two thirty I finally reached the trail head. As I pulled my truck up next to the lone Jeep Cherokee, out popped Jarred from the drivers seat. In a semi-sleeping stupor, he blurted out his explanation, "I'm sorry, Alex lost his keys! Who takes their keys on a hike and doesn't leave them by or around the car! Thanks, for coming, I knew you'd show up eventually."

I waited in silence as they shivered and loaded their gear into my truck. All were quiet on the way back into town. As we drove I wondered why Jarred thought I'd eventually show up as it was a SUNDAY night and I was due at work in two hours......this is where I know I will never understand the minds of men.