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Authors: Stephen Arseneault

SODIUM:1 Harbinger (5 page)

BOOK: SODIUM:1 Harbinger
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As we sat by the fire peering off into the woods I told Kyle of the strange light and noise I had seen the night before. I told him I thought it was probably a shooting star even though it had appeared to slow slightly before dropping behind the ridge. And I had expected a vibration or at least some faint noise of an impact, but had not heard or felt any.

As we sat by the fire we looked through Bull’s manual of Yosemite animals and found no reference to red glowing eyes. Again I was to the point of fondly thinking about my boring insurance job. I thought about how good the warmth, comfort and security of my own bed would feel. I had been on a roller coaster this entire trip and I had no vision as to where the next turn, drop or mishap was going to be. In my normal obsessive way I began to believe I would never be going home… home to the peace and security of Atlanta.

When dawn finally came the others were up and moving about the camp. We had grits and left-over turkey for breakfast. We then began packing up for our next hike. Before we left it was decided that we would search the woods around where the red eyes had been seen.

For half an hour we walked looking for any sign of whomever or whatever had been out there. Bull could find no trace of animal tracks and we were just about to give up when Allie noticed a small spot of liquid on top of a boulder. There were several drips of whatever it was.

On the ground just below it was an almost perfect large circle. It looked as though something had been poured over it, dissolving all the grass, weeds and sticks, leaving an almost bare spot of nothing but dirt.

It would not have drawn our attention had it not been an almost perfect circle. With nothing other than the anomaly to look at, we again turned our attention back to the liquid. Bull smelled it and remarked that it had an oily smell. He then touched it and rubbed it between two finger tips. He said it was definitely a type of oil and that it had not come from an animal.

There was someone else in the woods with us and we were going to have to keep a close watch out for them. I hoped that it was just some other nosy hikers, but the fact that one of them, or at least something they had, had been hit by a .45 cal round had me edgy and wishing I had a gun of my own. We looked around for several minutes and then made our way back to the packs.

The fire was soaked with water from the lake to make sure we did not start a disaster. You would not want to be trapped in the woodsy, grassy back-country with a wild fire chasing you. With a little bad luck and the wind blowing in the wrong direction you could easily be overtaken by the flames or smoke. For hikers, wildfire was a dangerous thing.

With the campsite clean we donned our packs and proceeded on to the next leg of the journey. I again managed to be in the middle of the group not wanting to be surprised by whomever or whatever had been spying on us the night before.

The day’s hike would be to the northern edge of Hetch Hetchy Reservoir. We would have a stop at Tueeulala Falls, Wapama Falls and finally Rancheria Falls. Bull had a trail map with topological info on it and with our trusty compasses it seemed rather easy to navigate our course.

We made our way back to the south down the other side of Frog Creek. When we left the creek at a big bend we continued on for a short distance before starting to make our way down to Hetch Hetchy. It was a 1500’ drop over the next several miles. We were all much happier going downward than with our prior day’s ascension as it helped to speed us along the way.

We arrived at Hetch Hetchy about a half mile up from the dam and proceeded eastward towards Tueeulala Falls. Tueeulala Falls was a high falls and made for impressive pictures this time of year. The creeks and streams that fed it were all at high levels from the spring and summer snow melts. It took us two hours to hike to the top of the falls; it was close to 900’ of incline.

We broke for lunch and a rest while we gazed over Hetch Hetchy reservoir from our lofty perch. Again the scenery was breathtaking and as I had suspected would happen earlier, Susi had used her last roll of film. We rested for half an hour and then began our hike back to the trail below. The almost two hour trek going up turned into a half hour hike on the way down.

It was just after lunch when my legs were really starting to feel a burn from the hike. I was happy that Wapama falls was only a few hundred yards further on. Wapama Falls was huge compared to Tueeulala. The volume of water was easily three to four times as much volume. When we again reached the edge of Hetch Hetchy we took a break and rested. With all of the wondrous scenery, the fear and the troubles of the night before seemed to fade away.

From Wapama we proceeded on along the shoreline of Hetch Hetchy. We had a fantastic view of Kalona Rock which jutted upward from the opposite shoreline. Kalona was a massive piece of granite that rose almost 1000’ up. It seemed to almost loom above you as you walked. The elevation continued to increase as we hiked towards Rancheria Falls.

There were several sets of falls along Rancheria Creek and our path would take us past them all. As we continued the terrain had turned rocky and once again uphill so our forward progress slowed. I was getting fatigued and I was sure the others were starting to see it in my increasing grumpiness. When we arrived at the second set of falls we decided it was as good a place as any to set up camp.

I was exhausted, but somehow my sister seemed as chipper as ever. She had continued on with her fitness through gymnastics and running since her college cheerleading days. I on the other hand, usually spent my spare time cozied up to the bar trying to entertain clients. I had gone out hiking for several months before coming on the trip, but apparently that had not been enough. I slid out of my pack, removed my boots and socks and walked over into the icy cool water of the creek.

The cold bit into my feet and I immediately hopped back out, but after another try I began to feel relief. As I stood in the water I turned to see the girls setting up the tarps while Bull and Kyle headed out to hunt down dinner.

Even though Yosemite was a National Park, back in the 1950s the rangers did not seem to mind if wilderness hikers in the back-country hunted small game. Since there were not a lot of visitors there was no real danger of over hunting. Commercial hunting though, was absolutely banned and if caught came with hefty fines. This night we once again had squirrel and we chopped up three of the six potatoes I was carrying in my pack. I was glad to be rid of the extra pounds I had been carrying and the squirrel stew hit the spot.

After eating, the girls had asked us politely to go off into the woods because they wanted to bathe in the falls. We were all in need of a hygienic overhaul at that point, so we obliged and walked downstream, we were soon out of sight. With an hour of daylight remaining they washed and hung their clothes and got into the spare set they had in their packs. We returned after 20 minutes and then sent them downstream so that we could do the same.

The water was frigid, but it felt good to once again be clean. We had been on the trail for three solid days. It was funny how back then body odor did not seem to bother people quite as much. It was an odor that would be completely unacceptable when back in the business circles of Atlanta. I later wondered if we were all just so used to it that we accepted it as a part of life.

We had planned on staying around that area a little late in the morning to allow for extra rest. It would be followed with a shorter day of hiking. With the coming elevations the terrain was only going to get tougher. As we settled around the fire the topic of the red devil eyes again came up. Bull thought it was probably just poachers or worst case it could have been someone looking to rob us. The outfitter told Bull that he had never run into trouble himself, but he had heard the occasional story of a hiker or two being robbed at gunpoint. I was not fond of this new revelation.

As the sun was setting we still had a little daylight left. Bull and Allie decided they would take a walk up the creek as a sort of evening stroll. I got nervous that Kyle and Susi were going to want to do the same, leaving me behind and making me the old fifth wheel, sitting at the camp alone, waiting to be devoured by a large animal. But the two of them made no effort to take a walk of their own, so I continued to hide my cowardly thoughts.

Bull and Allie came back after 20 minutes and Bull began telling us about a butchered animal just up the creek about a quarter mile. It was a jackrabbit that someone had filleted open and then chopped up as if poking around inside. He thought it curious and was now of the opinion that it probably was poachers, criminals whom he had the pleasure of shooting at the night before.

Bull was an avid hunter, but he detested sport hunting where no effort was made to make use of the animal. To him it just seemed like the senseless killing of a living creature. Why not just shoot a tree or a rock he had been known to say. Someone had done a very precise job on the jackrabbit and had not kept the fur or the meat. What bothered him the most was the fact that the rabbit was still fresh. He thought it looked like it had been there for less than a day, which meant whoever had done it in was likely still in the area.

We talked about how we might defend the camp if someone chose to confront us, about how we would each take a two hour turn during the night to keep watch. Bull was irritated as he thought and talked about how this could ruin his adventure package plans. Irritating Bull was hard to do as I had tried many times over the years to get him riled up. He would usually break down and laugh at my attempts. He was a good guy and great friend.

Being the height that I was, I had sometimes developed a short attitude. A short attitude is what short people get when they are trying to overcompensate for their lack of stature when the real problem is only a lack of confidence. Back in high school I was known to pick a fight, but it was always when I had my gigantic friend around. He would usually break anything up before it ever got started and I was sure he had saved me from many a bad beating.

He would step in when the words got a little too heated and anyone who had the thought of telling him to butt out would get a look that would scare the fur off a cat. He never once had anyone take a swing at him, he was just too big and too strong to take the chance that you would make him angry.

As we settled in to sleep I decided to take the last watch at 4AM. I was usually up at five in the morning at home so I could get that first cup of coffee. I had planned to get Susi’s coffee tin to make a cup to start my day off right. I was also keeping Susi’s .22 handy in case there was trouble. I was a terrible shot and a .22 would not do much to stop a man or a large animal, but at least it was something.

We gathered enough wood to keep a decent fire going through the night and then bedded down with Susi staying up first. The days hike had me worn out and that night I was the first to nod off into nowhere land. The night’s sleep was blissful.

Chapter 5

 

 

4AM came and I was awakened by Bull for the final watch of the night. I got up, threw a couple extra pieces of wood on the fire and made my coffee. First light started to show about 6AM, 15 minutes later the others began to rise.

The night had passed without issue. We ate, packed, cleaned up the campsite and started on the next leg of our adventure. We were heading all the way up Rancheria Creek to Tilden Canyon Creek. We would camp there for the night.

The first several miles of the hike were at a decent incline. We would be going up to 7200’ of elevation from 5200’. The thought of going uphill and being at higher altitudes had me preparing myself for a tough day.

Ten minutes into the hike we came upon the rabbit that had been butchered on the rock. Bull pointed over to it as we passed and I had to stop to take a look. I then asked Bull what the other animal was and he stopped in his tracks and turned towards me. There, on a lower rock, was another animal… or at least the remains of one.

We walked over to inspect it and Bull determined that it was a small doe. Probably only a month or so old. Again, it had been filleted open as if being dissected. We could not fathom what possible use someone would have for doing such. All the parts of the animal were still there.

Bull looked it over carefully while Allie watched over his shoulder. They determined that it had only been dead a few hours. Whoever had done this had once again been near our campsite. I dropped my bat and slowly raised my hands up in the air and then pulled them behind my head. I wondered if the red eyed demon was following us. I was spooked.

We took a few minutes to evaluate the situation. We could turn south and head for Tioga Pass Road, we could head back to Hetch Hetchy and head for the dam, or we could continue on. After a short discussion we all determined that although this was odd we had yet to be in any real danger from whoever was out there. As long as it stayed that way we would continue the hike.

Our current heading was taking us further from civilization. We were well armed and with Bull and Allie being extreme outdoorsman we felt confident enough to continue. Again, we had to think about the business aspect of the adventure. If completed with no issues other than what we had so far been confronted with, the Yosemite Sportsman Package would still be a go.

We hoisted our packs and began our slow climb up Rancheria Creek. I tried my best to stay in the middle of the group. The further from civilization we got the more rugged it became. We were constantly having to climb up and over large boulders or find a way around. The scenery was still spectacular and the temperature and weather had been perfect, but this part of the hike was becoming a continuous workout for my short legs.

An hour and a half into our day’s hike we stopped for a break. Just as we did so I turned to slip off my pack and saw a rock tumble down a ridge 100 yards behind us. I could have sworn I saw something move on the ridge where the rock had come from, but I wasn’t completely sure. And with the fatigue I was already feeling and the jittery start to our hike I thought maybe my mind was playing tricks on me.

BOOK: SODIUM:1 Harbinger
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