Always Expect The Unexpected
Before daylight my teenage son and I climbed into our old pick-up truck and set out for the region known as Bear Mountain. When we arrived at the only road leading into the area, all we found was a set of tire tracks that disappeared into a fifty yard stretch of water and mud. One glimpse of that waiting bog and I came to the conclusion that our expedition might very well reach its conclusion before we'd gotten any farther But nothing ventured, nothing gained. Soooo, backing up the truck, I gunned the engine, mashed down on the gas pedal, and we shot into that soggy mess as fast and hard as we could go! That old Chevy squirmed, wiggled, twisted, fish-tailed and slid from one side to the other, but by grit and by the grace of God we made it; and I knew exactly how Moses felt when he reached the far shore of the Red Sea.
Once across, we continued on our way but driving ever so slowly, never getting out of first gear. After having covered quite a bit of ground it became necessary to stop and remove our truck's side-view mirrors. The reason was simple. With them on the vehicle, we would never be able to squeeze between the trees on either side of the road. It was so tight that in some places I felt like getting out and smearing grease on the sides of our vehicle to help us slide through. We knew for sure that there was no turning around, and no going back until trail's end was reached.
We'd come to the mountain for two reasons. One, we'd heard that a rogue grizzly was believed to be in the area. He'd been pulling down some of the nearby rancher's cattle and we were hoping that we might come across his trail. Our second reason, and the main one, was that it was the time of year when we always hunted for our winter supply of meat. One good moose would supply us with enough meat to last us until spring, and a black bear, after we rendered him, would not only provide us with more meat, but would also endow us with about 25 pounds of snow white lard with which my wife Kay would use to bake and cook with. Salmon also was on our list of yearly groceries.
Usually after taking a moose, or bear, we would hang the meat outside our cabin, knowing that the winter weather would keep it well preserved. Of course it would have to be suspended high up to keep the wolves from getting. Animals such as these kept us well provided with burger, delicious steaks, roasts, and stew meat. Some of the meat Kay would can, and some of it we'd smoke or use to make jerky. As for the salmon, there's just no finer table fare. Believe me … there's nothing tastier than freshly smoked salmon. It's a real northern delicacy.
After driving for some time, it finally became necessary to leave the truck and proceed on foot. As we continued our trek, it soon became very apparent why the area had been named "Bear" Mountain. Bear sign could be seen everywhere: old logs ripped apart, numerous piles of bear scat, and a number of trees with deep claw marks. Those marks are a bear's way of letting everyone and everything know that they're trespassing on his private domain.
As we continued on our way, we kept scouting for some recently made moose sign, nor was it long before we were rewarded by the discovery of a freshly made trail. It led downhill about 150 yards, heading toward a small pond that was almost hidden by the encircling trees and thick brush. Checking the wind, we quickly backtracked and picked out the most likely spots for our ambush. Then, as quietly as possible, we built two tree-stands, climbed up into them and began our motionless, silent vigil throughout the remaining hours of daylight.
Several hours passed, and then at long last, we heard the unmistakable sounds of an approaching moose. Our hard work was beginning to pay off. We both knew, however, that if the slightest wisp of scent were to reach the animal, or if he were to hear the faintest noise was heard, it could be enough to cause everything to change radically. And so we waited, the minutes dragging slowly by. Finally, at long last the dark, bulky form of a huge bull moose began emerging from the brush.
From that point on, things moved into high gear. One well placed shot was all it took to drop that enormous beast in his tracks! Quickly, we both descended from our stands and immediately saw that it would require one more shot to finish him. It's always sad to see such a regal giant brought down, but what's even sadder is to see the undeniable look of intelligent understanding and resignation in an animal's eyes. I've seen it many times. It's as if there is no question in the animal's mind; it knows what's about to take place. That look was in the eyes of the moose we'd just brought down. It wasn't a look of fear, simply an acceptance of what was about to happen, and perhaps a certain tinge of sadness. Flint slowly stepped up and fired the finishing shot; it was all over. And to tell the truth, I was glad he'd taken the initiative. Now I know that some will say that's all just sentimental drivel, but I've seen that look in an animal's eyes too many times to casually brush it aside. I know that various Indian tribes have felt the same way, and often spoke to their quarry in those final moments of the animal's life. Anyway, believe what you will, and I will do the same.
We wanted to begin dressing out the kill while we still had daylight so we immediately tied the legs apart and began working on the carcass. We worked swiftly and we both thought we'd be able to finish before nightfall. We were wrong. Dead wrong.
It came unexpectedly. Perhaps we should have caught on when the wind began to pick up, growing stronger and stronger and colder and colder as we worked. Soon we knew it was about to rain, but that really didn't disturb us. A little rain would just help cool us off as we worked. But in no way were we prepared for what followed. The sky began to very quickly grow prematurely dark … no, not dark ... black. Pitch black. And as it did so, an icy, freezing rain began to come pelting down on us, and we both knew we should have found shelter before now. Any idea of looking for shelter, however, soon evaporated as it became increasingly clear that in the sudden darkness there was no way we could see to hunt for shelter.
Up until a short time before, the day had been pleasantly warm. The Levi's that we wore, the flannel shirts, the light jackets, and our Stetsons had been more than adequate. Now, however, the strong wind combined with the freezing, cold rain had already soaked us to the skin and we were beginning to shiver. To start a fire at this time was out of the question, and though only three yards away lay the carcass of the moose, we could not even tell it was there. It was so pitch black that when we placed the palm of our hand against our nose it was impossible for us to see any of it!
If only we'd had some kind of warning we'd have thrown up a small lean-to, built a reflector fire, and built a protective cover of birch bark to protect the fire as best we could. It wouldn't have been much, but it could have made a huge difference. However … as Kermit the Frog would say, "If a frog had wings, he wouldn't bump his belly when he jumped." Hindsight is always better than foresight.
In the meantime an inch of water already lay on the ground, so there would be no curling up there until the storm was over. Suddenly we remembered that only a few yards away there'd been a sapling lying about a foot off of the ground. It was only about as big around as a man's arm, but if it would hold our weight we might be able to sit on it until the darkness lessened, and perhaps then we could look for some kind of shelter. In order to find the sapling Flint and I both separated, but within minutes we could not see or hear one another; it took us several minutes of stumbling around in the dark before we managed to locate one another, and several more to find the sapling.
Though we didn't know it at the time, that beautiful, wonderful, matchless sapling was to be our perch for the next eight hours.
All night long we sat side by side, arms wrapped around each other in an effort to make the most of our body heat. Our teeth were chattering, and from time-to-time one or the other of us would jerk and then shake strongly. I am amazed to this day that we did not collapse with a serious case of hypothermia.
There are no adequate words to describe what it was like to finally see the darkness gradually begin to fade, and a few stars appear. And when the eastern sky at last started to barely glow with the faintest tinge of light we each felt like shouting. Instead we prayed and thanked God we were still alive. We were still shivering, teeth chattering, and shaking with cold, but we'd made it through the night. And we were both alive. The worst was over and we knew that soon we'd be able to regain our normal body heat and find our way back to the trail. It has long been said that whenever there's an accident or some other emergency the Lord seems to nearly always protect drunks and preachers. Well Flint and I couldn't qualify for the first category, but I have no doubt that the second part was absolutely true of us that night.
We knew that all around us the wood would be soaked and we didn't have an axe with which to split out any dry wood, so we decided that the best way to get warm would be to go to work to get our blood really circulating. So after recovering somewhat, we went back to finishing the job of dressing out our kill. First we cut off the moose's head with its broad heavy antlers which by themselves would weigh over a hundred pounds. We placed the heavy head on a nearby stump and then prepared to begin packing out our meat supply. Each of us strapped a large haunch of meat to our pack-boards, and for the next several hours made trip after trip back to the truck, each time toting as much meat as we could carry (about eighty to a hundred pounds or more). We kept on keeping on by reminding ourselves that as soon as we'd gone back for the last load we'd be free to head for home, enjoy a long hot shower, a hot home cooked meal, and the feeling of a soft, cozy, warm bed! It would be like dying and going to Heaven!
Flint finished his pack first and quickly began to make his way toward the main trail. Due to the heaviness of the load, his pack straps were pressing deeply and painfully into his shoulders. In order to lessen the pressure, he decided it would be best to use both hands to grip the straps and thereby help ease some of the pressure. Consequently, he left his rifle with me.
Heading down the trail with a load of freshly killed, bloody, moose meat … yep! You guessed it. He rounded a bend in the trail and came face to face with a big boogedy bear….. ! So what happened? Ah … that is another story which we won't go into here. But, obviously he survived and we both brought home the rest of the moose meat for our winter supply. However, there is one more detail I might mention. Later that day when we had finished packing out our last load of meat we returned to pick up the moose head and take it back to the truck.
There was just one trouble … the stump was completely bare! There was no trace of the large head and its antlers? Undoubtedly a mighty big bear had been there ahead of us … hmm, I wonder?
There is one thing about this story that should be pointed out. Both my son and I were not new to surviving the very elements that we had to face that unforgettable night. We knew how to start a fire with or without matches. We also knew how to build a fire in the wettest of weather. We knew to look on the underside of fallen trees that were still off the ground to get dry wood from beneath them. We knew that you could take birch bark, dip it in water and then light it, or use squares of its bark to protect a fire or to make a shelter roof to protect a man from rain. We knew we could split a down tree to get dry wood from inside. As for the darkness, both of us carried small mag flashlights. We knew how to build torches, and how to build fast emergency shelters and then use a firebed for sleeping warm; and of course we knew about building a reflector fire to reflect heat back into a shelter. In addition to all of that we were used to being out in cold weather (45+ below zero). More than once we'd waded in icy water, with snow on the ground and ice around the edges of the river. We'd done so to get salmon. We sharpened a small 5or 6 ft sapling and waded out to where we could spear them. And to top it all off, both Flint and I, had with us a small survival kit with the basics for outdoor living and survival. YET IT DID US NO GOOD AT ALL BECAUSE WE'D BEEN CAUGHT UNAWARES AND NEITHER OF OUR SURVIVAL KITS WAS WHERE WE COULD GET TO THEM WHEN WE NEEDED THEM. IF YOU'D HAVE TOLD US THAT SUCH A THING COULD EVER HAPPEN TO US WE'D HAVE LAUGHED IT OFF. WE THOUGHT WE WERE PREPARED, BUT WE WEREN'T. WE VERY EASILY COULD HAVE DIED THAT NIGHT INSPITE OF THE FACT THAT WE HAD THE KNOW-HOW AND THE PHYSICAL MEANS TO SURVIVE.
Life is sometimes like that. It is never a sure thing and, no matter what precautions you may take, life may suddenly throw you a curve that can blow you right out of the water. It reminds me of a verse from the Bible that warns: "Let him that thinks he stands take heed lest he fall." 1 Corinthians 10:12
Today you may be living a life that leaves God out, and everything in your private world may be going great. Why worry about God and all that religious stuff? Live life your own way; you need no rules from the great beyond telling you what you should or should not do. Besides, if you think you ever need any of that pie in the sky by and bye stuff you can deal with it then. Right now every thing's working well for you. "If it's not broke, don't fix it." Right?
The Bible itself says that you have been given the divine right to freely choose how you will live and what your future will be like. God won't cramp your style now. But nevertheless everyone of us need to realize that all that can change in a moment of time. Your life here is not going to go on forever. At some point it is going to come to an end.
In fact, by this time tomorrow you may be dead. Life carries with it no guarantees of how much time you have here on earth. Many a person got up this very morning with not the slightest thought that before sunset today they would be lying on a slab at the morgue, yet their body is lying there now, even as you read these words.
He who treats the Almighty like He doesn't matter is ignoring six of the most important issues and questions in the Universe:
What if there truly is a God that I must someday answer to for my life?
What if the Bible really is true?
What if there really is life after death?
What if there really is a paradise world called Heaven?
What if there really is a horrible world called Hell?
What if I end up lost for all eternity?
You may be healthy today and be in a wheelchair tomorrow, and none of your skills, your connections, your conquests, your diplomas, your accumulated worldly goods can change anything. Life comes to us with no guarantee and its vicissitudes are unpredictable. We are all living on the knife edge of eternity. We are all responsible for our decisions. Our futures are not determined by God; they are determined by us. You will not be able to blame God if you made bad choices on those most important issues to ever cross the human mind. Your time to seek out the truth about life and death and to make preparation for eternity can end at any time.
Don't wait for that moment when you suddenly feel the biting cold winds of eternity blowing, and the icy raindrops of death begin striking your body and soul. Don't wait until a darkness blacker than night, that engulfs you, a darkness that will blot out the spark of your life forever.
It will be too late then to prepare.
Posted by cdrnorth at 3:55 PM | Comments (0)