I am a true testament to the fact that if
you don’t write something down right away you’ll forget about it, details wise.
Now, having said that, I would like to tweak that fact just a little. Here’s my
version: “If you don’t write something down, something else is going to happen that’s dramatic and you’re
going to feel overwhelmed at the idea of writing.” So, let’s start with the
most recent turn of events and work backwards.
Easter weekend was not what John and I
expected. While we arrived in Fillmore with no scratches, we left with significant
body damage. Our family tradition is to go four-wheeling, picnicking, horseshoe
playing and sun bathing. We always go to Sugar Loaf in Millard County. This is
an old volcano that has been asleep for hundreds of years and is now more or
less a four-wheeling track.
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Sugar Loaf Volcano |
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The View |
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The Windmill Project a.k.a. stonehenge |
The trail is not for beginners, but since
John had come with us last year and nothing had happened, I figured let’s go
for it again! We both hopped on a machine and took off with my cousins and
brothers. My mom said “be careful” and looked me right in the eye. It felt like
she was saying this more forcefully than usual, but I ignored the feeling I had
off we sped into the great wilderness desert.
We took some hills, bunny rabbit is what I
call them, and were having so much fun!
After a while, John wanted to drive so we
switched places. He tried to do a U-turn and the four-wheeler started tipping a
little. I was freaked out, but John said he’d be careful so we took off. He
drives a little slower when I’m with him and for good reason. I don’t like to
go fast on something that isn’t entirely in my control. That’s the reason I don’t
like horses. I like to look at them and pet them but I do not enjoy riding
them.
We started up the incline that leads to
the old windmill project from the 30’s (people say it looks like Stonehenge and
they are right). The project was supposed to provide energy for the people of
Millard County and was going to revolutionize the town. Unfortunately, the
designer took all the money and ran once the Great Depression hit and the project
was abandoned. My dad told me the story last year.
Anyway, so the trail is steep and you
ride along a narrow path with volcano on one side and a sheer drop on the other.
I’m no judge of distance, but I if I had to put it into perspective, it’s like
falling off a 4 story building. Maybe higher. Our four-wheeler didn't have the
best brakes, but we figured we’d be alright. As we turned to face the hardest
part of the journey, a large boulder is partially revealed and once you ride on
top of it, you are on more level ground which makes the final stretch a level
shot to the windmills. The boulder is treacherous though. Imagine a path that
has loose rock and gravel all around it and your one hope of not falling off
the side of a mountain is the boulder that is about 30 degrees higher than the
trail you are already riding. You square up your four-wheeler, press the gas
and hope that you have enough grip to climb the rock to the level ground above.
My palms sweat just thinking about it. If you can’t make it on the first try,
you have to squeeze your breaks and gently roll down the boulder until you are
back on the trail and then try again. There is no turning around, no backing
too far down because if you do, you fall. End of story.
Well, John went to square up the boulder
and unfortunately didn't get enough grip the first time. So as he went to
squeeze the breaks, they failed. We were rolling off the side of a volcano, 4-5
stories down a gravelly slope of mountain which I was certain would be the last
trip we ever made. The four wheeler tipped and since I was on back, I went
first. I slid off the machine, screaming for help and landed on my behind. My pants
slid up, something really hurt my wrist and I tumbled until I managed to stop.
I turned around and saw this 900 pound
hunk of metal roll on top of my husband as he waited helplessly for it to pass.
I thought he was dead. I was hysterical, crying and screaming but not able to
stay where I was because this beast of a machine was rolling towards me. I tried
to run, tried to move but wasn't able to do more than scramble to one side.
Time seemed to stop and slow as I watched in horror as this rolling mass threatened
to smash me into the ancient rock. I felt I had angered the mountain or did
something wrong. How could I have been so careless to assume that I was invincible?
My body was not exempt from pain or mangling, my cancer had taught me that.
I waited for the pain to come, but it
never did. Instead our four-wheeler was stopped by a tree that was miraculously
growing just in the right spot to create a barrier not to be crossed. This
miracle was viewed in hindsight because all I could see was my husband’s face
before the machine rolled over his helpless body. Tears streamed down my face
as I screamed in anger and defeat. Dirt was inside my mouth, eyes and stung a
cut that had formed from my split hand.
Suddenly I saw John sliding towards me
asking if I was ok. I was so shocked all I could do was cry and ask him if he
was alright. I sat, stunned and just sobbing. John went to inspect the four-wheeler
as Jarom, my brother who we had followed up, ran towards us to assess the
situation.
I was useless as they and other men who
had traveled the same trail came down to help us out of our predicament. The
other men were just some travelers from a neighboring town who were doing same
Easter tradition as us. They started the four-wheeler up (miracle) and John
helped them guide it back up the mountain. Jarom hitched a wench to the back of
John so that as they traveled down this cursed volcano, he’d have some breaks.
At this point, was still crying, wondering why this had happened. Hadn't John
and I been through enough? I failed so see the hand of God blessing us with
help and a random tree to stop the four-wheeler and not to mention despite
being squashed by an 800 pound machine, John emerged with little more than
scratches. I was angry and sad, not to mention bitter at the circumstance but
having had time to look over this I realized how lucky we were and how so many
angels must have been on alert to help us.
We are loved. Heavenly Father has not
abandoned us and despite our trials we are better because of them. John and I
are strong and we will continue to be strong because of the love and faith we
have in our God. Not to mention the wonderful family I have been born into. You
could not find finer parents and more loving siblings than what I have; though
I wish everyone were so lucky.