Tragedy at the Tent

I write this post with a tale of caution.  Just when you are at your utmost happiness things can change in a heartbeat.  This past week we had high winds and warmer than usual temps.  This combination made snow melt up high in the mountains.  I guess this is where I will start.  The crystal flakes of Christmas snow began to warm and turn into drops of new year tears.  As these drops met others high up in the winter mountains they ran downhill to meet their cousins in the valleys.  The drops became brooks.  The brooks became streams.  The streams became creeks, finally small rivers rushing down towards my tent.  As I arrived back at my tent from the Yaak Valley Montana on Wednesday afternoon I feared the worst.  Would trees be downed from the 70 mph winds earlier in the day?  Would the tent be standing?  As I drove into my two tracks I could see the tent was still up.  I checked the trees as I exited my Rubicon.  They were all intact around the tent.  That’s when I spotted it!  Or should I say didn’t spot it.  My precious wire fish basket that I had invested $5.96 on and had transformed into a beer cooler that sat in the creek was GONE!  I rushed to the creekside and dropped to my knees.  Why do bad things happen to good people?  I thought to myself.  It was gone.  Not a trace of the basket or the 6 wonderful aluminum bottles of beer that I had just said goodbye to days earlier.  Then a thought leapt into my mind.  It could be caught up in some limb or rock.  Couldn’t it?  I jumped to my feet and charged downstream like Chamberlin’s famous bayonet charge on Little Round Top at the Battle of Gettysburg.  Over rocks and under limbs I ran.  Looking, searching, hoping for my little 16 ounce soldiers.  Branches tore at me as I rushed forward.  One Witch’s fingered limb grabbed my hat off my bald head as I stumbled through the underbrush and over fallen logs.  I made my way down alongside the silvery rapids.  I slowly came to a stop.  No they were gone, gone forever.  They may have made it all the way to the lake. I wondered what their thoughts were as they were swept away from their secure back edie of cold crisp water.  Would they miss me as much as I did them at this moment?  No how could they?  This would be a cross for me to bear.  Why hadn’t I put a rope on them?  This is not a mistake I would make again.

Bald Bigfoot is hoping all those truly affected by last week’s storm are all ok and have power back on.