It’s not every night I’m asked to drive as fast as I feel comfortable down a rocky dry wash towing a stalled pickup truck backwards with my rental Jeep Wrangler. But here I was.
I was here, because I had been photographing the stars above with the valley below that is the Waterpocket Fold, which runs like a giant geologic spine splitting the landscape. And I was still here, because the old, thick woolen sock which I used to protect the business end of my tripod did not fully accompany me on the hike out. And here I was alone in the night back at the Jeep, putting my gear away, minus one old, thick woolen sock.
Twelve minutes of twilight - the last image I took before hiking out
The switchbacks, on another night
This was not the first night during my residency that it had gone missing. But the previous time it had been lost on a trail not far from where I was staying, making it easy for me to tell myself I would go search for it in the morning, and indeed it readily revealed itself in the morning light not far from that trailhead. This trailhead, though, was an hour and a half from my bed, and in between were several miles of rocky four wheel drive trail, precipitous dirt road switchbacks descending into the valley, and many more miles of bumpy dirt road before I made it back to the security of pavement, and eventually, bed. I would not be returning in the morning. So I had set out to search for the sock, retracing and re-retracing my steps in my futile search. And for the want of a sock, I was still here sweeping my flashlight among the trees when my light attracted another. And I was no longer alone.
He had questions. Was that my Jeep? Was I camping or would I be heading out? Could I give him a jump-start? It wasn’t until I heard that last one that the first two made sense. He told me his truck had stalled out nearby in the rocky wash, the one way in, and was now therefore blocking the one way out. He had been driving all day long with his wife and child, who now were waiting for him somewhere out there in a tent, and the truck had just decided it had had enough.
He had jumper cables. So, I gave up on the sock and drove the short distance down the dry wash to meet him at his truck.
We attached the cables by the light of my headlights, and tried to jump-start his truck. And tried again. And again. We were unsuccessful. It was a disappointing silence that followed, a silence that was broken by an idea, an idea that was worth exploring. He suggested that if I could tow him a short distance, he could try starting the truck by popping the clutch as the rotating wheels got the engine to turn over. That is, I thought, if he had a rope, and if I could somehow get by him by driving with two wheels up on the bank to get past his truck. He did, and I found that I could, and that is how I found myself being asked to drive as fast as I felt comfortable down a rocky dry wash, pulling his truck along behind me, backwards.
I positioned the Jeep so that I could get a good running start before hitting any major obstacles. The plan was that I would first take up the slack in the rope he had strung between the vehicles, and then go for it. I followed the plan.
I didn’t get far before I heard a sort of “thunk” from the back. I wasn’t sure what it was, but it hadn’t sounded right, so I stopped. And when I got out to look, I saw the rope had been shredded as it ripped off his truck, and now lay piled near the Jeep’s bumper where it had recoiled and “thunked” as it smacked into the bumper. The rope was done for. I felt another stab of disappointment. But as I walked toward his truck to find out if there were any other plans, I heard another sound, too. And that sound was the running engine of his truck. Success.
His plan now was to collect his family and drive on to civilization somewhere, while the engine was still running. And after receiving his thanks, I was off. On the drive back, I thought about how much closer to bed I would have been had I not gone looking for that sock. And I also thought about how much farther from bed he would have been, too. It was a fair exchange.
But I never did find that sock.