I wonder why I am even writing this. No one believes me. Sure, I kid around....pull a few gags from time to time. This is real, or maybe I am truly over the edge. I am back--and I thought I would never get here. Apparently I am where I should be. How can I possibly explain it all?
I was running what seems like 2 weeks ago--actually looking at the calender, I see it was 15 days ago. It was a cool foggy morning, a perfect morning for a run. Turkey Mountain was all to myself as I hit the high spots northward on the Ho-Chi (lower yellow trail for those who don't know what the Ho-chi is.) I was just running for feel, no garmin, no self imposed pace to keep. I had mowed down way more than my share of spider webs--a slightly aggravating drawback to early morning trail running. Trail running in the fog where you can't see more than 50 feet or so is exhilarating!!
About 2/3 of the way northward on the trail, I heard what sounded like a rustling of wind through the trees, although up til now it had been dead still. Near the place on the mountain where I brought the Barkley runners up from the railroad tracks last year, I saw what was almost a whirlwind of fog, and there was a hint of illumination brightening and dimming, like a very slow motion strobe light. Just below the trail, there is a small cave, or more of a depression in the rock, and it appeared that was where the commotion was coming from. The night runners from the Barkley Book fair might remember this cave. It usually has a great view of the river, and more than once I have used the overhang to duck in out of a thunderstorm. But what was the swirling fog and the dimming and flickering light? I was almost afraid to check it out, but manned up and shuffled down the steep slope and around to the small cave, not sure what to expect. No one was there, nor could I find the light source, but still, the area in the cave would get a little brighter and then dimmer.
Then I noticed the side of the wall vibrating and moving--sort of in-and-out of focus. A few bits of rock from the wall would fall off, and I for a second was wigging out thinking we might be having an earthquake. I remembered I had my camera and grabbed it to take a picture. As I turned it on, some sort of menu came up. I could not get the menu off, and figured well CRAP! Then I reached out to touch the vibrating blurring wall, and to my amazement, my hand actually went INSIDE the rock!! I pulled my hand out, and then reached my arm way in clear to my shoulder. It felt cold near the surface, and warm about a foot inward. I really felt like this was another passage way to the other side, or one of those time-shifts that that Eldridge guy had told me about. I was just not brave enough (or stupid enough) to try to step into the rock wall.
Had I left well enough alone, I would not be telling this story now....well, maybe I would, but what happened next changed my life and almost took me out of the picture all together. The third time I reached into the wall, the rock solidified around my hand--and I was trapped! It was like my hand was set in concrete! I pulled and pulled but the rock was solid. I could barely move my fingers, if at all. I was truly stuck. I yanked and twisted, but could not dislodge it nor would the rock give way. I yelled out "HELP!!" How cool is that? TZ crying out for help. No more Mr Tough Guy--not that I ever was that! There evidently was no one on the trails this particular morning. It was a little before 7:00, or so I thought. Could not be sure as my watch was also set in solidified rock. But AHA!! I had my cell phone. It was in my left pocket, so with my right hand, I tried to fish it out, and I DROPPED IT! It took a tumble down, and plummeted over the edge and landed in what sounded like some undergrowth below. GREAT!!
So it was a waiting game now. I was not far at all below the trail, and the lower yellow trail (Ho-Chi) is a popular trail for mountain bikers and trail runners. I'd just wait until I heard someone going by, and yell for help then. I knew I might be there a while, but surely not all day. I tried my camera again, turned it on an off a few times, but the stupid screen just had a line of figures. I was not running with my glasses, but I squinted hard enough to notice it was the time stamp settings. I tried set the date, but I could not get it to set. Finally, I pushed the shutter button, the screen came up, and it appeared I was in business. So, I was able to take a couple of pics of my predicament.
It seemed like hours went by. I did not have great footing, and could not sit down. There was nothing to do but wait. The fog stayed dense and soupy--maybe even misty, but fortunately I was under this shelter. I would gladly traded a downpour and being soaked for the mess I was in.
Then finally, I hear someone passing on horseback. "HEY!! HELP!! DOWN HERE!!" I thought I head the horse stop. Then I heard some mumbling in a gruff voice. Of course, I wondered if this was the next meeting of Eldridge, as I heard him dismount and say whoa and I presume he tied his horse. Then I heard him shuffle down the loose scree and step around to where I was. "What the hell ye doing here, ye durn fool?" It was not Eldridge.
"Can you help me?" I asked (and hoped.)
"Ye durn fool, yer in a mess there. What ye doing round here? This here's a bad place. Ye shouldn't be messin roun these parts. Good way ta gitcher self killed." This guy was a scrawny wirey man, who looked all of 70 but possibly looked older because of hard living. He had reddish brown greasy hear and an old beat up cowboy hat that looked a lot like the one that Matt Dillon wore on Gunsmoke after it was run over by a stampede of cattle. He had the cowboy look going on, the cow crap smell going on, and probably was a real cowboy, as opposed to the normal equestrian riders that frequent the trails here.
"Look," I said explaining my predicament, "I was running the trail and saw some swirling fog and lights flickering and came down here to see what was going on." He listened, and turned his head to spit out a wad of tobacco juice. "I saw the wall here moving, and I touched it and my hand went inside the rock. I got it back out, and reached in again. It just hardened up on it, all in a sudden before I knew what was happening. I've been here for hours. I think I can move my fingers, but my hand's lodged in to tight and I can't pull it out."
"Shud it up, ye durn fool. I'll try an get ye out. Hold on there." He scrambled back around the corner and up the hill, and returned with what looked like some mining tools. Climbing right up beside me, he took a long cold chisel and a rock hammer and started picking away at the rock. I was concerned that he might peck that chisel right through my hand, but I have to say he was actually pretty careful....but it was taking a long time. I pulled my camera up and wanted to take a picture of him chipping away (always looking for good blog material), and had to deal with that timestamp menu thing again. Somehow, I could not get the right camera angle to get a good picture. So, I turned to take a picture of my feet and figured I'd get more pictures later. Snapping the picture turned out to be a bad idea.
"WAAHHH!!!" He turned and bolted a few steps, and then stopped. "What the hellaz that?"
"This?," I asked, holding up my camera. I just wanted to take a picture or two. Sorry if I startled you. Shoulda said something. Sorry." This guy was really going the extra mile to help me and now I pissed him off?? Good job, TZ.
"What's that thing there ye got? Lemme see it." I handed him my camera, and he turned it over, looked at it with a dumb curiosity, and handed it back to me. "Is that whut made that lightening flash?"
"Well, yeah. I usually just leave the flash on. Probably didn't need it. Sorry."
"Falsh huh? Point that thing out that way and do it again. Can ye do that?"
"Sure." I turned it back on, jacked with the menu again, and snapped a pic.
"So what's that.....like a little tender box?"
"Um, no....it's a camera." I was realizing this man had never seen a camera with a flash. Ok.... "It takes pictures." Then, I had a quick thought that he might take my camera away, and I definitely realized I needed to be OUT of the rock, so I slipped it in my pocket and tried to backpedal. "Yup, it's a tenderbox. Won it in a card game. Sorry to flash it at you. You getting close to having that rock chipped out?" Luckily, he let it go. He could have easily decided to take that "tenderbox" and left me there to rot.
"Yeah, I bout got you out. Just being careful not to hit things too hard. I'll have ye out here in a bit, ye durn fool." I was getting a little tired of being called a durn fool! Of course, I was the one with my hand stuck in the rock.
After about five more minutes of chipping, my hand was free. My watch was all jacked up. The cold chisel apparently had scraped the face of it, the face was crushed digital numbers were not even visible. Then, it was question time!
"Now tell me again--what the hell wuz ye doin down here in these parts?"
"Just out for a run."
"Out for a run. Ye were just out here running?"
"Well, yeah."
"Running from what?"
"Just running. Trail running. To stay in shape. I like to get in 5 miles or so out here."
"Ye RUN 5 miles? I don't even like to ride my horse that far!! Ye durn fool!"
"Well, I'm trying to stay in shape. I'm training for an ultra in June--" He cut me off.
"An ALTER. What do ye know about this here alter. Why the hell ye here??"
"NO, I said 'ULTRA' running, not alter."
"Ultra? Don't know what the hell that is. Well this here's a bad place right here. This is some old indian worship place. They been killin deer and animals here to sacrifice to their gods for years and years. Durn injuns...need to run em clean outa here. Shoulda done it years ago." Wow, I thought. This guy is really a space case.
Being the stupid runner and always loving to talk about it, I tried to explain what an ultra was although I doubted we were ever gonna be on the same page. "An Ultra is any race over the marathon distance." I got a dumb look. So I went on. "A marathon is a foot race 26.2 miles long."
"Whadya mean Point two?"
"26 and 2/10 of a mile. Just a little past 26 miles."
Well why in the hell don't ye just make it a round number. Ye durn fool. Yer a lying little sack anyway. No one can that far. Why the hell would you tell me sometin like that?" I decided to just let it go. "But listen, ye better git yerself outa here. Run along. HAR HAR HAR HAR!" Oh, he thought he made a joke. What an ass, I though to my self. He scrambled back up and I followed. He had a rifle in a saddle holster, and a small buck draped just behind the saddle that he evidently had shot earlier in the morning. As he mounted up, I remembered to thank him.
"Hey, thank you so much for helping me out. What happened down there?"
"Oh, that's why that's a bad place. Bad spirits and such. Some say it's hanunted. It's just an evil place. Few years back, we used to come through here hunting and smelled an awful smell, and there was a bunch of buzzards flockin around. Turns out some durn injun had durn near his whole body stuck in the rock. Those durn birds were having a time eatin the flesh right off his bones. that was right near where you had your arm stuck."
"Gosh, what a story!" I exclaimed.
"Ye better believe it. That's an evil place down thur."
"I believe you. Hey, I'm Ken. What's your name?"
Samuel. Samuel Bad Dog." (Where had I heard that name before??) With that, he headed north. I turned south and walked a few yards south until he was out of sight, and then backtracked down to the cave and quickly descended to the bluffs below it. I needed to find my phone.
That's all the story I am gonna tell for now. I did find my phone, and it did not seem to be messed up thanks to the Otter Box. It would not power on, but I could not get a signal at all. I reclimbed the bluffs, took one more chilling look at the cave, took a quick photo of my bloody hand, and turned for home.
From there, the day only got worse. I am going to have to consider how I can tell the story so as not to seem insane.
I was running what seems like 2 weeks ago--actually looking at the calender, I see it was 15 days ago. It was a cool foggy morning, a perfect morning for a run. Turkey Mountain was all to myself as I hit the high spots northward on the Ho-Chi (lower yellow trail for those who don't know what the Ho-chi is.) I was just running for feel, no garmin, no self imposed pace to keep. I had mowed down way more than my share of spider webs--a slightly aggravating drawback to early morning trail running. Trail running in the fog where you can't see more than 50 feet or so is exhilarating!!
About 2/3 of the way northward on the trail, I heard what sounded like a rustling of wind through the trees, although up til now it had been dead still. Near the place on the mountain where I brought the Barkley runners up from the railroad tracks last year, I saw what was almost a whirlwind of fog, and there was a hint of illumination brightening and dimming, like a very slow motion strobe light. Just below the trail, there is a small cave, or more of a depression in the rock, and it appeared that was where the commotion was coming from. The night runners from the Barkley Book fair might remember this cave. It usually has a great view of the river, and more than once I have used the overhang to duck in out of a thunderstorm. But what was the swirling fog and the dimming and flickering light? I was almost afraid to check it out, but manned up and shuffled down the steep slope and around to the small cave, not sure what to expect. No one was there, nor could I find the light source, but still, the area in the cave would get a little brighter and then dimmer.
Then I noticed the side of the wall vibrating and moving--sort of in-and-out of focus. A few bits of rock from the wall would fall off, and I for a second was wigging out thinking we might be having an earthquake. I remembered I had my camera and grabbed it to take a picture. As I turned it on, some sort of menu came up. I could not get the menu off, and figured well CRAP! Then I reached out to touch the vibrating blurring wall, and to my amazement, my hand actually went INSIDE the rock!! I pulled my hand out, and then reached my arm way in clear to my shoulder. It felt cold near the surface, and warm about a foot inward. I really felt like this was another passage way to the other side, or one of those time-shifts that that Eldridge guy had told me about. I was just not brave enough (or stupid enough) to try to step into the rock wall.Had I left well enough alone, I would not be telling this story now....well, maybe I would, but what happened next changed my life and almost took me out of the picture all together. The third time I reached into the wall, the rock solidified around my hand--and I was trapped! It was like my hand was set in concrete! I pulled and pulled but the rock was solid. I could barely move my fingers, if at all. I was truly stuck. I yanked and twisted, but could not dislodge it nor would the rock give way. I yelled out "HELP!!" How cool is that? TZ crying out for help. No more Mr Tough Guy--not that I ever was that! There evidently was no one on the trails this particular morning. It was a little before 7:00, or so I thought. Could not be sure as my watch was also set in solidified rock. But AHA!! I had my cell phone. It was in my left pocket, so with my right hand, I tried to fish it out, and I DROPPED IT! It took a tumble down, and plummeted over the edge and landed in what sounded like some undergrowth below. GREAT!!
So it was a waiting game now. I was not far at all below the trail, and the lower yellow trail (Ho-Chi) is a popular trail for mountain bikers and trail runners. I'd just wait until I heard someone going by, and yell for help then. I knew I might be there a while, but surely not all day. I tried my camera again, turned it on an off a few times, but the stupid screen just had a line of figures. I was not running with my glasses, but I squinted hard enough to notice it was the time stamp settings. I tried set the date, but I could not get it to set. Finally, I pushed the shutter button, the screen came up, and it appeared I was in business. So, I was able to take a couple of pics of my predicament.
It seemed like hours went by. I did not have great footing, and could not sit down. There was nothing to do but wait. The fog stayed dense and soupy--maybe even misty, but fortunately I was under this shelter. I would gladly traded a downpour and being soaked for the mess I was in.Then finally, I hear someone passing on horseback. "HEY!! HELP!! DOWN HERE!!" I thought I head the horse stop. Then I heard some mumbling in a gruff voice. Of course, I wondered if this was the next meeting of Eldridge, as I heard him dismount and say whoa and I presume he tied his horse. Then I heard him shuffle down the loose scree and step around to where I was. "What the hell ye doing here, ye durn fool?" It was not Eldridge.
"Can you help me?" I asked (and hoped.)
"Ye durn fool, yer in a mess there. What ye doing round here? This here's a bad place. Ye shouldn't be messin roun these parts. Good way ta gitcher self killed." This guy was a scrawny wirey man, who looked all of 70 but possibly looked older because of hard living. He had reddish brown greasy hear and an old beat up cowboy hat that looked a lot like the one that Matt Dillon wore on Gunsmoke after it was run over by a stampede of cattle. He had the cowboy look going on, the cow crap smell going on, and probably was a real cowboy, as opposed to the normal equestrian riders that frequent the trails here.
"Look," I said explaining my predicament, "I was running the trail and saw some swirling fog and lights flickering and came down here to see what was going on." He listened, and turned his head to spit out a wad of tobacco juice. "I saw the wall here moving, and I touched it and my hand went inside the rock. I got it back out, and reached in again. It just hardened up on it, all in a sudden before I knew what was happening. I've been here for hours. I think I can move my fingers, but my hand's lodged in to tight and I can't pull it out."
"Shud it up, ye durn fool. I'll try an get ye out. Hold on there." He scrambled back around the corner and up the hill, and returned with what looked like some mining tools. Climbing right up beside me, he took a long cold chisel and a rock hammer and started picking away at the rock. I was concerned that he might peck that chisel right through my hand, but I have to say he was actually pretty careful....but it was taking a long time. I pulled my camera up and wanted to take a picture of him chipping away (always looking for good blog material), and had to deal with that timestamp menu thing again. Somehow, I could not get the right camera angle to get a good picture. So, I turned to take a picture of my feet and figured I'd get more pictures later. Snapping the picture turned out to be a bad idea.
"WAAHHH!!!" He turned and bolted a few steps, and then stopped. "What the hellaz that?""This?," I asked, holding up my camera. I just wanted to take a picture or two. Sorry if I startled you. Shoulda said something. Sorry." This guy was really going the extra mile to help me and now I pissed him off?? Good job, TZ.
"What's that thing there ye got? Lemme see it." I handed him my camera, and he turned it over, looked at it with a dumb curiosity, and handed it back to me. "Is that whut made that lightening flash?"
"Well, yeah. I usually just leave the flash on. Probably didn't need it. Sorry."
"Falsh huh? Point that thing out that way and do it again. Can ye do that?"
"Sure." I turned it back on, jacked with the menu again, and snapped a pic.
"So what's that.....like a little tender box?"
"Um, no....it's a camera." I was realizing this man had never seen a camera with a flash. Ok.... "It takes pictures." Then, I had a quick thought that he might take my camera away, and I definitely realized I needed to be OUT of the rock, so I slipped it in my pocket and tried to backpedal. "Yup, it's a tenderbox. Won it in a card game. Sorry to flash it at you. You getting close to having that rock chipped out?" Luckily, he let it go. He could have easily decided to take that "tenderbox" and left me there to rot.
"Yeah, I bout got you out. Just being careful not to hit things too hard. I'll have ye out here in a bit, ye durn fool." I was getting a little tired of being called a durn fool! Of course, I was the one with my hand stuck in the rock.
After about five more minutes of chipping, my hand was free. My watch was all jacked up. The cold chisel apparently had scraped the face of it, the face was crushed digital numbers were not even visible. Then, it was question time!
"Now tell me again--what the hell wuz ye doin down here in these parts?"
"Just out for a run."
"Out for a run. Ye were just out here running?"
"Well, yeah."
"Running from what?"
"Just running. Trail running. To stay in shape. I like to get in 5 miles or so out here."
"Ye RUN 5 miles? I don't even like to ride my horse that far!! Ye durn fool!"
"Well, I'm trying to stay in shape. I'm training for an ultra in June--" He cut me off.
"An ALTER. What do ye know about this here alter. Why the hell ye here??"
"NO, I said 'ULTRA' running, not alter."
"Ultra? Don't know what the hell that is. Well this here's a bad place right here. This is some old indian worship place. They been killin deer and animals here to sacrifice to their gods for years and years. Durn injuns...need to run em clean outa here. Shoulda done it years ago." Wow, I thought. This guy is really a space case.
Being the stupid runner and always loving to talk about it, I tried to explain what an ultra was although I doubted we were ever gonna be on the same page. "An Ultra is any race over the marathon distance." I got a dumb look. So I went on. "A marathon is a foot race 26.2 miles long."
"Whadya mean Point two?"
"26 and 2/10 of a mile. Just a little past 26 miles."
Well why in the hell don't ye just make it a round number. Ye durn fool. Yer a lying little sack anyway. No one can that far. Why the hell would you tell me sometin like that?" I decided to just let it go. "But listen, ye better git yerself outa here. Run along. HAR HAR HAR HAR!" Oh, he thought he made a joke. What an ass, I though to my self. He scrambled back up and I followed. He had a rifle in a saddle holster, and a small buck draped just behind the saddle that he evidently had shot earlier in the morning. As he mounted up, I remembered to thank him.
"Hey, thank you so much for helping me out. What happened down there?"
"Oh, that's why that's a bad place. Bad spirits and such. Some say it's hanunted. It's just an evil place. Few years back, we used to come through here hunting and smelled an awful smell, and there was a bunch of buzzards flockin around. Turns out some durn injun had durn near his whole body stuck in the rock. Those durn birds were having a time eatin the flesh right off his bones. that was right near where you had your arm stuck."
"Gosh, what a story!" I exclaimed.
"Ye better believe it. That's an evil place down thur."
"I believe you. Hey, I'm Ken. What's your name?"
Samuel. Samuel Bad Dog." (Where had I heard that name before??) With that, he headed north. I turned south and walked a few yards south until he was out of sight, and then backtracked down to the cave and quickly descended to the bluffs below it. I needed to find my phone.
That's all the story I am gonna tell for now. I did find my phone, and it did not seem to be messed up thanks to the Otter Box. It would not power on, but I could not get a signal at all. I reclimbed the bluffs, took one more chilling look at the cave, took a quick photo of my bloody hand, and turned for home.
From there, the day only got worse. I am going to have to consider how I can tell the story so as not to seem insane.
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