DAMROD

Well, I've been neglecting my blog in favor of my new Facebook page. So I need to get back on the write track. FB is a nice break but it can eat up all your time and it can be rather mindless too. I am addicted to FarmTown, I admit that freely!

This time of year I'm also in a fantasy football league. It's Yahoo's free version. If I played for $$$ I'd be a poor man. This is just for bragging rights; of which I am in third place out of twelve teams, leading big in overall points, with my sights on the top spot.

So, I've been distracted and a tad lazy, needing a kick in the ass to get going. Please forgive my absence. With The Kinks cranked, I can create.


Recently I encountered a once in a life time event. Seriously strange, never seen ANYTHING like it as it totally interrupted my life for a few hours. It made me realize how much I count on the ease of communications that comes with today's technology. It put me on a journey I never intended to take, to places I've never been before, but had liked to visit sometime perhaps. I wish I could have enjoyed it more.

Kinda like Gilligans Isle; I left for a short trip that turned into an eternity. I was so close to home, but so far away when nature flexed her awesome might. I marvel at her ability to control and override mankind.

My journey began on Saturday, October 10th, 2009 at midnight, 12:00 AM. I left after work and made for my parents who live along Chinook Pass on the east slopes of the Cascade Mountains. "Dear Mountain" as I know it. As close to heaven and God as I've ever been taking in it's wild natural beauty. It's hard to see the hand of man there. I love it. More trees than people. More deer than most ever get to see.

The ride over the pass is very nice, even in the dark. Highway 410 winds it's way into Rainier National Park and crests at approx. 4,500 ft. Driving it at night takes patience. You can easily be the only one on the highway, in car moving vehicle that is. Night time driving requires a slower pace unless you'd like to have a 2,000# elk hood ornament. It happens quite a bit and I can tell you, it's not very pleasant. It's much easier to just slow down a bit. 50 mph is about right.

I saw the first critter on the west side, just above the Cayuse pass jct; A bull elk, with an enormous rack, appeared in my headlights on a tight hairpin turn. He darted up the bank in a split second into the darkness. Coming down the other side I saw many more elk, some cows hanging around along the side of the road. Below there came plenty of deer. Slow as you go to save a life, or lives.


Okay, so I made it to the folks around 3 am and crashed hard (only in a nice soft bed). Dad and I spent Saturday cutting/hauling wood. Talk about a great work out and it's sorta fun to play with the big boys toys. We winched logs off the hillside, sawed 'em into 16" pieces. The best part was launching them with gusto into ol Franken Dodge, Dad's green monster. The pile of shit on wheels; a 1979 Dodge Powerwagon (club cab) death trap; Duck shit green, dented, no tailgate or bumper, a drivers door that opens (and shuts) with a kick, cracks and what looks like bullet holes in the windshield. You can see earth below you when driving. Until Dad slipped in the metal plate there was no place to rest your heel when pressing the gas. It starts up in a blue cloud, disappears in one too.

DODGE = Dear Old Dad's Green Enigma or Dads Old Duckshit Green Enigma...either way, you get the point.

Every piece of wood that bounced and smacked into ol Franky improved it's already sharp looks. I've hit that thing with wood, ice (snow balls), a sledgehammer, splitting maul, logs, poles, my foot, rocks and just about anything else you can pick up and throw. Dad loves it as a utility rig. I hate it because it's a big piece of shit, but even more because I don't want something to snap and send Dad over the bank. I abuse the hell out of it when I drive it too. The sooner it dies, the better I'll feel. Like this time, I got tired of the sticking drivers door and drove it around with the door open. I could get it to shut by coming close to the bank or a tree...

Okay, enough of Franky and wood. I had been in recent contact with a long time friend of mine. We made plans to get together for a beer or something. After a day of high activity, I chose to stay in, so we decided to get together for breakfast at the Woodshed restaurant on Sunday morning around 8:30. I've known Tim since kindergarten and we've managed to keep in touch after not being so for quite some time. I love the man. He's damn funny and we share a history that very few have.

I drug my lazy butt out of bed on crisp Sunday morning, grabbed some coffee and the keys to Mom's nice new Jeep Wrangler. Now, there's a Chrysler product that's worth keeping, unlike Franky. It's a Jeep, it's green and it's a Jeep! The day greeted me with 20 degrees and a brilliant clear blue sky. Reminding me again of why I love the country there.

Just a few miles down the road the highway was closed. A big sign announced the closure, a bigger DOT truck blocked both lanes at the Upper Nile Loop Rd turn off. Somewhat puzzled I turned onto the loop road and made for the Woodshed, which is located at the lower end of the Nile Loop. I must have driven that gravel road a thousand times or more. Very familiar, although the county is in the process of widening, straightening and paving it.

As I made my way down to lower end, about a 1/2 mile from the Woodshed, I saw a group of people standing along the road in a place where it runs right along the river, where you can see the 410 highway across it. A sheriff had his lights on too. Since I've been a kid, as long as I can remember I would always look across the river there when traveling by. This time, I thought mine eyes were failing me. I could not believe it. The highway was gone, replaced by an enormous bank. Pieces of the highway were twisted and broken up along it's edge.

I pulled into the parking lot at the restaurant and saw that the WSP had the highway closed. A large low hanging brownish cloud in the distance along the ridge on the other side of the highway looked extremely out of place on this dry clear fall day. Upon closer inspection it was not a cloud of vapor. It was dust. Once inside the restaurant the watiress said that a landslide had started there the previous evening, causing some damage to a garage and forcing people from their homes.

Amazed, I sat and waited for Tim. I struck up a conversation with a couple sitting at the next table. They were just as bemused about this landslide business as I was. Tim then arrived and we had breakfast, catching up on recent events, recalling past times and being generally crude, sick and twisted with the innocence of two 10 year old boys (that's what Mom said anyways after I called him).

After filling on saugage and eggs, as well as great conversation we decided to go to my folks since Tim has never been there before. Tim was kind enough to pay for the meal while I tipped the watiress and we left. Once in the parking lot we noted many more people arriving on the scene to gawk. Tim recognized a former co-worker and were briefly chatting when I heard what sounded like a huge crash. Looking up along the ridgeline above the slide it looked as if mountain shivered like a cow shaking off  flies.

One long horizontal line began to move downward. Rocks the size of houses tumbling down before being totally obscured by dust. I've heard rockslides before. It's a sound I have a hard time describing other than crashing and smashing. Just then another State Trooper came rolling up in his patrol car and told everyone to evacuate the area now. Someone next to me said they had just closed the Nile Loop road because it was buckling and water from the river was starting to come across. I nearly crapped my pants. That's the only way back, other than by mountain road or highway 12 detour that would take a couple of hours.

We obeyed the Stater and took off for Naches, where I was going to call my Dad. I realized on the way I left my cell phone at Mom and Dads because there's no service up the pass. We stopped along the highway just below the "Y" (Hwy 12/410 Jct) and called. Dad said he was going to see if they could open the gate to the Mud Lake road so I could get around it on the ridge, but that was a no go.

I told Dad that I was going to come back via White Pass to Cayuse and said goodbye to my good friend, with more plans of getting together in the future. At 11:30 am I left Naches after topping off the tank. Just above the "Y" on Highway 12 (White Pass) I drove by the Oak Creek feeding station, where the Bethel Ridge road takes off and connects the White Pass to the Chinook pass side via a network of gravel forest service roads that are usually only passable with 4wd.

I thought about going that way because it's much much shorter in distance and because I was in a Jeep. Probably less than 10 miles, as where I was about 50 from the Cayuse Pass turn off. I knew the area, but haven't been on the road for many years and wasn't too sure of the turns I needed to make to come out on Chinook Pass. The last I told anyone was that I was going Cayuse. A moment of indecision preceeded my common sense; Nobody knows I'd be driving into the woods. It's been quite cold at night and I'm not dressed for over night if it comes to it. I could probaby make it unless something happens. Besides, I know exactly where to go to make it via Cayuse so I motored on.

If I'd only known what I faced once I got there, I would have probably attempted it and been just fine enjoying a nice sunny day four wheeling in a nice Wrangler Sahara, built just for such things. I thought about stopping to call Dad at one of the resorts at Rimrock Lake, but it would have been collect and I don't know if he'd answer a number he doesn't recognize so I kept on. Not only does the Jeep do well off road, it did great on the highway too. Man, I want one of these!

I cleared the White Pass summit, noting the new snow along the higher peaks just above the ski area signalling the soon onset of winter. On I went, down the west side to Cayuse (Hwy 123). From there I passed the Ohanepecosh campground and the Stevens Canyon entrance to the National Park where traffic was backed up behind a closed gate manned by a couple of park rangers. Cars were turning around and I was getting a little anxious. I've come a long way to go quite a ways more from here.

After about 5 minutes, and many idiots behind me attempting to pass me to get to the front of the line, where I spoke to Mr Ranger who had just let a Ford Explorer through the gate. I asked him what the issue was and he told me shortly, "123 is closed".

"I got that much, thanks. I'm trying to get home due to the rockslide on 410" I told him. Dawning comprehension filled his face and he turned to open the gate for me too. He said that the DOT was doing some road work and that they should let us pass. Again I moved on. Cayuse is only a little over 11 miles long between highways 12 and 410. He opened the gate, I thanked him and he just glared at me in silence. At about 11.5 miles I came to the road work. The crew looked surprised to see me, before telling me to go back because the road is closed.

I explained the situation, but it fell on deaf ears. "I don't know what to say" the man in coveralls said. "The whole road is tore up". It was news to him that 410 was even closed.

I said "well, I am in a Jeep, can't you let me through? I wouldn't ask but, the rockslide..."

"No"

"Look, I can't go back it's blocked. If I go westward you're adding a few hundred miles to my trip today", I lamented.

"I don't know what to tell you sir". He said, as if speaking from his ass.

Well I did know what to say, and I told him in words I will not repeat here. Feelings of helplessness, rage, and utter frustration boiled out of me. I suggested he get back to work. More people are going to need this road soon. I turned the Jeep around and flew back down to the closed gate and the friendly park ranger, who looked surprised to see me. "They not letting you in?" he asked.

"Yes, they are", I replied. "I just came back down here to tell you about it. It would be a good idea to not send anymore cars up there, unless you'd like to see if you can persuade them to open the road". Again, I got a blank look that I'd compare to a pale white ass cheek. He wasn't about to move from his post so I made tracks.

Wondering what my next move was, I thought I'd wander into Ohanapecosh and attempt a collect call to Dad hoping he could direct me over Bethel Ridge. If not, I'll be venturing down roads previously untraveled for me. What a fun experience trying to call was. I found the pay phone at the visitors center and attempted about 6 collect calls to Mom and Dad (who were not answering) My wife (who also did not answer at home, her cell does not accept collect calls). My brother, but no one picked up there either. NOBODY uses the payphones anymore!

With every attempt to call, I had to speak my name. After each failed attempt I began to shout my name in a tone of angst. People walking by gave me some interesting looks. Here I am, a telecom tech and I cannot complete a damn phone call! Nobody was at the ranger station at the camp ground so I made my way back to Hwy 12 and farther west to Packwood to sit and think about my next move.

I pulled into the first mini mart along the highway to top of  the tank and ponder my travels. Standing next to the Jeep filling it up a little pick up pulled into the next pump and a guy got out. Our eyes met and he said "hello, hows it going?" If he'd only known the full scope of those words.

"Well, do you know a way to get to 410 without using Cayuse Pass?" I asked without hesitation. The man laughed as if I were kidding him. I then explained things and he changed his tone. The only way from there is to go farther west and hit back roads, goat paths and waysides to get back to 410, if not all the way to I5!. Discouraged even more, I topped off the tank and went inside for some refreshment.

I asked the clerk if they had road maps. She wanted to know local or state. I said "Yes". She came back with a cute little community map. I explained my plight and she looked at me much like those deer I passed along the highway the night before. She then gave me the back road way to get me up to Eatonville, from there I'd have to ask for more direction. I went outside and found a payphone and was going to give it one last effort to contact anyone, but after a few calls I was getting the same results. Finally, FINALLY! my daughter answered on my last try home.

I spoke to my wife for the first time this began. Thinking back, I should have had her call Mom and Dad and gave them the pay phone # to have them call me back so I could backtrack to Bethel Ridge. My wife told me that my brother had spoken with our folks and that the power was off. I was wondering if their phones had gone too...so I made a command decision and proceeded west down roads I've never traveled. It was 1:00 by now I was getting a little more frustrated.
I left Packwood on "Skate Creek Rd". Yikes, you couldn't skate here at all. The pavement was roughed up that you couldn't do much over 30. With my angst rising, I did notice the beautiful country and the angle that I've never seen Rainier from. This went on for 26 miles to Ashford and onto highway 706, west bound to Elbe. From Elbe up to Eatonville by about 2:30 pm where I stopped at a roadside mini mart to pee and get a little direction from there, to Orting.

The clerk was kind enough to provide me with some directions; "Go up the road to the first light and turn right onto 288th" he said. "Then go to the next one and turn left, then follow the road and wind your way down into Orting. Turn left at the main intersection, that's basically 410 from there". I thanked him and hit the road again. After a few country miles and no traffic lights I came to a four way stop at 288th. Chagrined, I turned right and looked for the next "traffic light".

More country miles later, I came to a T intersection, I could only go left or right onto the "Orting/Kapowson" Highway. On a hunch I turned left and drove for many many more country miles before the road started to wind around and I finally came into some other cars. We were above a small burgh in the valley below, which must be Orting. It took ages to finally get there. Traffic got really heavy as I got closer to stop and go as we found what must have been Main St with a banner over it; "Orting Pumpkin Festival". OH BOY!!!

Finally at the light I noticed that it was not 410 and there were no signs directing to it. It was Hwy 165. Left or right, north or south. So I went right into downtown Orting. Closed side streets, booths, tents, music, carnivals amongst a ton of foot traffic and a long stop and go line of cars. At least the Seahawk game was playing on the radio and they were actually winning.
Wondering whether or not I was on the right path by the time I got to the outskirts of town I saw sign for the city of Buckley, which I know is on 410 so I kept on keeping on. Another pretty stretch of highway. I wish I had the time to enjoy it!

At about 4:00 I finally made it to 410! ONWARD!!! Enumclaw by 4:30. For a third time I top off the gas tank. Now I can sense that I'm close as I barrel down the highway. 5:30 pm I make it to the 410 side of Cayuse Pass. Still closed with line of vehicles waiting to get through. Five minutes later, I clear the summit at Chinook Pass to find the road closed and cars turning around. I nearly cried. NO WAY are they gonna stop me now!

As I made it to the front of the line & rolled down the passenger window as the guy from the DOT walked up and rested his arms on the passenger door. We both exchanged looks and he didn't appear too happy. "I'm local traffic" I said and his eyes lit up.

"Really, where?" he asked. I told him where , and he said; "GO! we're just stopping through traffic here. I didn't need to be told twice. I launched forward and I took off around the barriers, and making my way down the east side. Below Morse Creek the road straightens out with a few short hills. With no one behind or in front of me I decided to see what Moms Jeep could do on the open road. 85 seemed just about right, slowing for corners and the occasional rig going the other direction, which was few.

On I sailed, counting down the mile posts as I flew by. Passed the Bumping River turn off and met an RV and a car going the other way. Nothing going my way so I sped on. At Cliffdell, the speed limit slows to 35, and out of habit I alway slow down because there's usually a trooper or sheriff at the restaurant. Then I considered the emergency going on farther down the road again, but still I hold my speed eventhough I am five miles out.

I glanced in the rear view mirror and spotted a red car coming around the corner into Cliffdell too. It came up on me in a big hurry right up to my bumper. Must be in the same boat I thought. It stuck with me around the next curve and up the hill to Whistlin Jacks restaurant. Clearing the hill and back down where the speed limit goes back to 55. With the car right on my tail I jump on it pretty good and fly by the speed limit sight at about 70 and gaining speed. The little care dropped back and I lost it in my mirror. I'm so close now, NOTHING is going to stop me! I hit 75, then 80 before slowing for more curves and catch up to a pick up doing about 70 and follow it to where my folks driveway is. I notice the little red car again catching me as I slowed. Since the driveway is hidden I turned on my signal early to announce my intentions.

Checking my mirrors again, I expected the car behind me to back off, but instead it was stil right with me, and lo and behold, it's left turn signal was flashing too! Another downshift and I check my mirror closer. I can see the license plate now. It's personalized. It's my folks car! Turning in just past the mailboxes, onto their gravel road I pull to the side and roll down my window @ 6:00 as  my Dad came rolling up. I experienced a feeling that I haven't felt in a long damn time, like I was 16 again.

He stopped next to me and rolled down the passenger window. "Didn't you see me at the Bumping Lake turn off? he asked.

"Nope."

"I had a hell of a time keeping up with you!"

"I bet you did. Just to let you know, Mom's new Jeep does well on the highway at 80!".

Dad's nose wrinkled but he smiled. Again, I hadn't seen that for quite some time. Here I was 43, in Moms Jeep and driving like a bat out of hell in front of Dad. OH! The memories it brought back. Dad then said, "Your sister called to say the highway was closed at the Chinook Pass summit. I was going up there to see if you needed help getting in".

It also brought back the realization that I just completed a full 360 around Mt Rainier in about 6.5 hrs. "They couldn't have kept me out. I'd come too far and would have driven over/through the closed signs, or over the bank, or up on the Pacific Crest Trail. No way was I going to be denied"!

Dad was kind enough to load my pickup with wood during my journey so I could head for home that night. After another steaming bowl of Mom's home made clam chower I made for home.


DAMROD = Drive Around Mt Rainier in One Day...

What a trip! Maybe next time I will take the time to plan and enjoy it...