(Take Note: for those of you who have signed up to be notified
by email of new postings to this blog, you have been receiving not just a
notification, but an actual copy of the new blog posting as the email. As this does not show the images of the
paintings in the best possible light, you should click on the title of the
latest blog posting at the top of the post, and not the title of the painting
itself; this will open up the actual blog itself, and you may then enjoy the
paintings at their best.)
I
got an hour of work done before the rain came in and I had to retreat to the
truck where I read, listened to Radio Jefferson, the local public radio
station, and had lunch. After three
hours I was able to get in another half an hour on the road construction, but
that was it for the day … an hour and a half!
The night had been a bad one as I kept awakening and worrying how the
coming rain might affect the roadway I had built thus far … if at all. Would the weight of the truck force the
wheels to sink in the rain? Would the
roadbed be strong enough? Would the
truck slip sideways to the left, and into the mud, when I eventually made my
escape attempt, since the road sloped down that direction, and was getting mud
covered and slippery as I walked over it humping rocks to the construction end? Would the accumulating rainwater make the 600
yards of muddy road back to the trees impassable once I actually got turned
around on the stone road I was constructing?
These questions turned over & over in my mind, and had made for an
uneasy night, and now with the rain-forced inactivity, they kept running
through my head as I watched the drops falling into the enlarging puddles. True … my road seemed to be OK that evening
when during a convenient hour long break I had actually prepared a hot supper,
but if the rainy hours piled up …? I did
move the SUV back about 6 inches in case it had been sinking, but it seemed
that it had not, and in this new position it remained until the end of construction. But a hot supper! It was only a thick chunky chicken corn
chowder soup, but it was wonderful … I added fresh broccoli, and some tinned
corn. This is now my favorite soup.
This was my lowest day as I had too much time to
think. As I have said I was sixty miles
from Nowhere and eighty miles from Almost There. Even though there might be the odd homestead
in the area, a long walk would be involved, and then a careful approach hoping
not to be shot for trespassing … these things do happen. But I was nowhere near ready to abandon my
attempt at my self-extraction … I had a month of food and two weeks of water. Best to keep to the road building; only when
that failed would I think about heading out.
Think about the Pioneers who crossed the Continent on the Oregon Trail, sometimes
in small groups, walking much of the way; how they might have to unload their
small wagons, to fix a wheel; build a raft to ferry them across a river; rope
them up or down an incline too steep for the oxen to manage. I was not as alone as they were, even if they
were a group, and I’m solitaire. My
predicament was a major inconvenience compared to theirs, even if possibly
life-threatening; and people do die out here, but usually they have few
supplies, or tools … I had all that. However,
to keep from morbid possibilities does mean, keeping a clear head, thinking
things through thoroughly, taking care with every move made, and every step
taken during this situation, to avoid injury … I’m sixty miles from Nowhere and eighty miles from Almost There. But I had gotten through the day, and with a
hot supper under the belt, the terrors of what
if, began to recede … 8½ hours of good sleep ensued.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank You for your comments. If you have read "the Journey" Tab you will know that my time online is usually limited; I trust you will understand that I may not be able to reply to comments or specific questions, but that perhaps they might be addressed in future posts.