Chapter 1
The central Oregon air is as clean and invigorating as anywhere in the world, but he no longer noticed, nor did he appreciate the warm sun on his face. The ripping pain of starvation was like a brick wall between the outdoor paradise he was in and his ability to see the 100-ft pine and fir trees and snow-capped mountains around him. Elijah was dying, and he knew it. He hadn’t eaten in about nine days. It's been three days since he's had water. His severely weakened condition had made him lethargic and unmotivated to find a source of water. His tongue was dry and swollen, making it difficult to swallow. Knowing that he had no chance of walking out alive, that he would never see a human face again, he decided to scribble a quick note for the unfortunate hunter or hiker that will eventually find his body.
No food or water. Rabbi Zvi Geller, and Rachael, my parents. Portland. Tell them I’m sorry.”
He put the note in the front pocket of his pants so that it would be easily located, and began dragging himself, ever so slowly toward a nearby clearing where he would be found sooner. His head felt like concussion grenades were being detonated one after another behind his eyes, and breathing was becoming more and more difficult. This was it. He could almost see and hear the angels coming for him, so with the last shred of strength he had left, he pulled himself up using a broken tree branch that seemed to be a hand offering help. As he got to his feet, he turned his face to the midmorning sun in the east, and what started as unintelligible and raspy, slowly became stronger and more pronounced:
“Hear O Israel, the Lord our God the Lord is One!”
The ‘Shema’ is the cornerstone of the Jewish statement of faith. The first prayer he or she learns, it is repeated twice a day for their entire life, and is usually the last words uttered across their lips before dying. It is forever embedded in the Jewish spirit. With that, Elijah’s world went into an uncontrollable spin, the ringing in his ears grew deafening, and he never felt his head hit the ground.
***
Mike Blanchard had grown up in these mountains. He knows every ravine, every ridge, and every bear den in the entire Sisters wilderness area. The forecast for today couldn’t be better for the hike he has planned with his fifteen year-old son, Eric, and his twelve year-old daughter, Micah. As an engineer with Intel, he just doesn’t have the time with his family that he’d like, so they’d planned this trip three months in advance. It made him sad that he didn't have the time he'd like to spend with his children, especially considering he's a single parent, but he does the best he can.
Mike and his kids left Portland at 5am, driving east over the towering Mt. Hood, south towards the scenic town of Bend and arriving at the trail head by mid-morning. There was a car already there, which was odd because this trail was accessed by a maze of old logging roads off of the main highway. As far as Mike knew, few others knew about this place. Maybe someone had stumbled upon it as he had twenty years ago. Knowing the perils that the wilderness can heap upon even the most experienced outdoors man, Mike wisely prepares for every contingency. Extra water, extra food, rain gear; (rain is always a distinct possibility in the Pacific Northwest), a map of the area, a compass, a Garmen RINO GPS unit; and even a tent in the event they get stranded overnight. He packed it all into his large-frame backpack, got Eric and Micah organized with similar gear packed into their day packs, and started off on a planned family hike that would become the source of nightmares for all three.
***
No comments:
Post a Comment