Bear Creek at historic highs three days after the storm, 9-18-2013
Today was a great day to get out and see what the countryside looked like in the aftermath of the storm. The sky was clear, the sun was blazing, and I had the morning free, so off I went.
Wanting to see what Bear Creek looked like after a week of just about the heaviest rain ever seen in this part of Colorado, I headed to the town of Morrison. Driving through Morrison the creek was clearly visible running along the south side of Morrison road, which was quite odd as it is usually low in the creek bed and difficult to see unless you are right on top of it.
Morrison road becomes Colorado route 74 just west of the town, as you head up towards the smaller communities of Idledale and Kittridge until finally arriving in Evergreen. I drove up 74 with the town of Evergreen in mind as my final destination.
Heading up the mountain I stopped at a few pullouts along the shoulder of the road that offered views of the rain-swollen creek. I made my way to a few precarious spots that offered good photo ops and took a few snaps. I did this for a few miles before stopping at a pullout area about a mile before Idledale where a young couple was standing next to a motorcycle with what looked like all of their belongs scattered around it.
As I was getting out of my truck, the young woman who had been standing near the young man approached me quickly and asked if might have a small Phillips screwdriver.
Being as I keep a vast array of Swiss-army and Leatherman type tools in my center console, I told her I probably did. I fished around in the console and found a multi-tool device that featured a fairly small Phillips screwdriver, handed it over to the young woman, and told her I was going to walk down to the creek to take a few pics and would be back to collect the tool shortly.
She was over-the-top with thanks, saying they had been there for awhile trying to flag people down but no one had stopped. I told her it was no problem, as I was stopping to take pics of the creek anyway.
After ten minutes or so of taking pictures, I headed back to my truck. I approached the young man who had been given the Phillips screwdriver and asked him how things were going.
This is where it gets good - you might want to make some popcorn.
The young man told me he wasn't getting anywhere with the Phillips screwdriver and said that he was probably going to have to cut the wires that lead from the ignition to the engine in order to hot wire the bike.
I, of course, asked the obvious question, "Don't you have a key?"
He looked at me with a brief flash of "Dude, if I had the key I'd be using it" before actually saying, "No I don't have the key. I accidentally threw it in the creek."
Which was not the answer I expected. Losing a key is one thing, but throwing the only key you have to your only transportation into a raging, overflowing creek, is a whole 'nuther.
I had that look on my face that says "How and why in the hell did you throw your key into the creek?" and without prompting the young woman chimed in that he accidentally threw the key in the creek when he threw their dog in the creek.
I was a bit taken aback by that statement.
She explained further, saying they had been traveling with their dog, a Chihuahua, and that when they had pulled over they had let the dog out of it's little carrier so it could stretch it's tiny legs, and it had scrambled up some rocks nearby, then had somehow lost it's footing and tumbled down the rock pile, hitting it's tiny head on a large boulder, and well, that was all she wrote for the poor little Chihuahua.
The young man had scooped the tiny dog up and watched as it convulsed in agony in his hands. Reacting in what he thought was a merciful manner, he tossed the dying Chihuahua into the creek. Unfortunately, he had forgotten he had the key to his bike in one of his hands when he had scooped up the dog, and it went flying into the watery abyss along with the poor little pup.
It's right about at this point the thought that I was bearing witness to a Country/Folk/Blues tune in the making popped into my head.
It was also about this time that a few other cars had pulled up. One was driven by a guy who, like me, was driving around with his camera looking for interesting sites to photograph, and the other was a truck being driven by a concerned traveler.
Both of these men approached the three of us as we were standing around the bike and asked if we needed help, to which we all replied that everything was alright, and then the young man explained further that he no longer had the key to his bike and he was probably going to cut into the ignition wires and attempt to turn it over via hot wiring.
The man who pulled over in the truck asked in the front wheel was locked, and the young man told it wasn't. That was good, as the man with the truck said he had a trailer he could but the bike on and would take it to the nearest locksmith for him. He jumped in his truck and headed off to get his trailer.
The other guy had retrieved his phone from his car and had started searching for local locksmiths to call. He found one who quoted a fee of $250.00 to come out and make a key, which the young man and woman balked at, stating they didn't have money like that.
It took a few more calls, but soon another locksmith was located who quoted a fee of $90.00. The young man still balked, stating they really didn't have that much money on them. I told him to have the locksmith to come out and I'd take care of it.
The whole time this was going on, BTW, various other parties had pulled over, both to take a look at the overflowing creek, and to see what was happening.
Oh, and the young woman was dealing with a bit of altitude sickness, as this was her first visit to Colorado, and it was the first time she'd ever seen, much less been in, a mountain range (this was all going on at 7,000 feet or so).
A half-hour had passed since the guy with the truck had left to get his trailer, and I was thinking it was going to be rather sticky to see him pull up towing a trailer with a locksmith on the way. Fifteen minutes after that thought had crossed my mind he came around the bend towing a really nice covered trailer, purpose made for hauling bikes and featuring airbrushed paintings of the stars of Easy Rider on one side looking out from behind the bars of a jail. There were paintings of a skeleton on a chopper on the other side, and a warthog astride a bike on the front - it was all really well done.
The young man went up to the guy and explained that a locksmith had been located and was on his way to cut a key for the bike, and the guy replied he would stick around until the locksmith showed and made the key, just in case the locksmith couldn't get the job done.
The story of the key being tossed in the creek along with the dog that had come to an untimely end was retold for the benefit of the guy who had retrieved the trailer, along with a bit more of the young couple's story. They were headed west from deep in the heart of Kansas on an impromptu vacation, one that hadn't been planned out all that thoroughly.
It was at this point that I began to imagine a few different scenarios - were they fleeing the law? Had they stolen the days proceeds at a place of business they worked at together and made off with delusions of being Bonnie & Clyde? Were they running away with each other from other relationships that had been failing? And why in the hell did they pack very little clothing but brought the dog along? Why didn't they have at least one bedroll? I suspected this trip of theirs was decided on rash impulse.
The locksmith showed up as I was talking with man with the trailer (we had both introduced ourselves by then, his name was Sean). Sean and I watched as the locksmith and his assistant (I believe his assistant was his wife) went to work on the gas cap (ignition, seat, and gas cap locks on bikes open with one shared key). He was able to get the gas cap unlocked and off fairly quickly, and then was able to turn over the ignition on the bike as well.
A couple of keys were then made for the bike (I insisted on two keys being cut - no sense in having a locksmith cut just the one key), and the young couple was ready to get back on the road. I invited them to follow me down into Morrison were we could grab some lunch, and after the locksmith was paid and everybody who contributed to helping the young couple out of this jam were thanked, that's exactly what we did.
Over lunch the young couple explained a bit more about what they were doing and what their plans were. That's their story though, and I don't feel at liberty to put it here. Suffice to say they were looking to build a new life together.
The young man and young woman were both profuse in their thanks and keep saying they had no idea how they ever could repay everyone's kindness and generosity, and I told them that it was simple:
The next time they ever saw someone broken down on the side of the road, whether it was due to engine trouble or just a flat tire, they had to stop to see if they could offer help.
That's how it works. The whole pay it forward dealio.
I wished those two the best of luck as they got back on the road. Whatever their final destination is, I hope they reach it safe and sound, and do not have to endure anymore absurdly difficult circumstances.
They gave me the small bag of dog food they had in one of their backpacks, btw - It's not like they had any further use for it.
Threw the key in the creek with the dying dog. There has got to be a really great sad song in there somewhere.
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