It was hot and muggy, the rain was helping make things even worse and I was going to have to pull it over shortly and walk.It was hot and muggy, the rain was helping make things even worse and I was going to have to pull it over shortly and walk. At the first spot that offered a tiny place to pull off out of harms way, I parked the truck, locked it and headed down the road. No water, no hiking boots, no back pack, no food. Lots of trouble, though. I was dripping sweat, scared shitless and thirsty enough to suck the liquid out of a skunks ass when I saw smoke rising up among the trees to my left. Maybe somebody was up among the heltering pines, bro. Head for it. Climbing and falling and climbing again, I snaked my way to within hailing distance of what appeared to be a small farmhouse and shed sitting out here in the wilderness and, yep, there definitely was smoke coming out of the chimney. Not knowing how the local yokels treated strangers in these parts, I decided to make no further moves until I yelled and got the lay of the land. What I didn't know at that moment was that the last four words of that thought were about to be visited on me; a gift from heaven. Lay of the land, indeed. "Heeelllllooooooo! Anyone at home up there?" Nothing. Try it again. Nothing. Again. Nothing. I waited a few seconds and decided to try to go ahead and walk on in. I had taken no more than three steps when a soft, definitely female voice off to my left said, "One more step, mister, and you got an hours worth of work pickin' buckshot outta yore hide. Don't move another inch." Looking aroud I could see nothing at all; just lots of pine trees standing side by side for miles. Then the voice said, "Wadd a ya' want way out here?" I explained what had happened and all that I wanted to do was get a cool drink of water, freshen up a bit, get some water to carry along and some instructions on how to get out of here and I would be on my way. "Well, why didn' ya say so. Head on up ta the house and I'll meet ya' there." When I arrived there was no sign of life except for the biggest goddam dog in all of Colorado. Mean looking, too, so I decided to just stop and stand there, because he didn't look like he wanted any further travel from me; not toward the house, anyway . |