A Familiar Unknown
Chapter Fourteen
The call of the one year old came the next morning like clockwork, predictably shrill and demanding.
As the exact opposite of a morning person, I preferred to began my day slowly, letting my body adjust by degrees as I slowly sipped on coffee. I liked to imagine that the lower the level of coffee in my cup was, the higher my level of awakeness was. If that’s even a word. Morning is not the time to think such thoughts. No thinking, just drinking. Coffee that is.
But Fenix didn’t do life by degrees, he woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready to grab life by the horns and he expected no less from his parents.
When I was pregnant with Fenix, I knew he would be a morning person just like his dad because he was at his most active in the wee small hours of the morning, ping ponging this way and that, shaking me awake from the inside out. I’d give him a little poke through my belly and tell him to go back to sleep but he never listened.
After he was born, it was immediately apparent that my intuition had been spot on. A little like his namesake, our Fenix liked to rise with the birds and when he was up there would be no convincing him to go back to sleep.
When you combined the bright and early awakening with severe colic, that meant there wasn’t much sleep to be had in the early days. And by days I meant months, four of them to be exact.
The screaming colic days passed but the sleepless nights lingered and were frequently followed by continued early mornings and short naps. But at least he was happy and to me, that made all the difference in the world.
Luckily for me, Nick was also a morning person and he always helped absorb some of the shock of those crack of dawn awakenings until my coffee kicked in and I was able to function somewhat like a normal human.
At the moment I swear I could hear my eyelids creak from the lack of sleep and I blinked rapidly in a desperate attempt to keep my eyelids in the up position because like every other morning I knew there would be no snooze, and certainly not five more seconds let alone minutes.
Today we were finally headed back to the places we had been so many times before and the idea of returning to the familiar was comforting in a way but rumor had it that snow was coming and with us living in a trailer, traveling during a ranging pandemic, our experience would be a strange sort of paradox.
A familiar unknown.
But if we never try, we’ll never know so into that unknown we went.
We turned right onto the US-26W and began the three hour drive that would take us to the town of Sisters where we planned to boondock at a dispersed camp site for the next couple of days in the middle of National Forestry Land. While we still could, anyway. Rumor had it that public land would soon be closed like everything else around us.
We hadn’t been on the road long when we passed signs for the John Day Fossil Beds National Monument and that oh so familiar pang of disappointment shot right through us when we saw the word CLOSED stamped across the large brown recreation sign.
It wasn’t a surprise really and by now we had come to expect no different but the Painted Hills in particular had been high on our list of places to go for years and here we were, within miles of it, unable to go.
Thanks again Covid.
With nowhere to stop and explore, we made good time and before long found ourselves driving through the city of Redmond where we found a multitude of choices for lunch.
So many choices, so few places to park.
In the end, for the sake of walking distance, we settled on Dutch Bros Coffee because, duh, and some cheesy bagels from a local Big Ol’ Bagel shop which were quite delicious.
And then we were on the road again, ready to finish the final thirty minutes of our drive for the day.
Turning right off the Mackenzie Bend Highway 20 we left the pavement behind and with dust billowing out behind us, we entered the world of the towering Ponderosa pine trees.
The well worn dirt road led us onward through the forest and we took in our surroundings with wide awestruck eyes.
Words couldn’t really do the place justice but to me it felt like taking a much needed deep breath. There was just something about being surrounded by all those tall trees and I could both mentally and physically feel their calming effect on me as we drove around looking for our place for the night.
The Ponderosa Pine trees have always been a favorite of mine and seeing so many of them just outside a town we had been to so many times felt a little like coming home and being greeted by an old friend. Or a whole forest of them in this case.
We finally settled on a potential site for the night and got out to stretch our legs. As we stepped out of the Pilot, little clouds of dust rose with each step we took as we moved to unload Atlas, Fenix and Crixus before setting them free to explore.
Through the green tree tops, tiny hints of blue sky peeked out between the grey overcast cloud cover. There were black and red tree trunks surrounding us on all sides as far as the eye could see and the aroma of the pine forest was so good it was almost indescribable.
The air was crisp, fresh and sweet with a sharp tang that is only present with an abundance of pine needles which layered the forest floor like a thick blanket.
The smell brought with it a calming sense of safety and comfort, sort of like a deep breath and a hug all at once. It was a magical feeling just shy of perfection and I knew that even if we had all the time in the world to spend here it still wouldn’t be enough. I was in love.
We walked around for a long time letting Atlas and Fenix run free while an over excited Crixus yanked on his leash, leading me from tree to tree to tree until at long last his bladder ran dry and he was sufficiently satisfied that he had created an appropriate pee border surrounding our home on wheels.
One can never be too careful after all.
Leaving Fenix with Nick for a nap break, I tied Crixus to the outside of Little Geo so he could replenish his water levels while I continued to explore on foot with Atlas.
Not far from where we had parked was a series of homes nestled in between the trees and to my delight we discovered that our closest neighbors was a pair of beautiful horses.
I was thankful that I had left Crixus back at Little Geo so we could take our time saying hello from across the road. We were far more excited to see them than they were to see us and we kept our distance as Atlas danced excitedly while wielding a stick sword as he talked to them. They just watched at us with bored interest as they chewed their lunch.
Turning back towards Little Geo we found Nick and Fenix emerging from their mid day siesta eager to continue exploring with us. We walked slightly north west and discovered a massive pile of feathers scattered across the forest floor in what we could only guess was some kind of horrific bird massacre. It was clearly a fight that didn’t end well for whoever used to own those feathers.
Crixus sniffed the area so thoroughly he ended up with white fluff stuck all over his big black nose.
Continuing our exploration on foot, we happened upon an even better camp site that was set a little further into the trees with even greater privacy so we hiked back to our little home on wheels, loaded back up into the pilot and sitting on his Daddy’s lap, Atlas happily drove us home for the night.
The spot was perfect, set deep in the forest and around a bend from the main dirt road that we had driven in on. It felt so private and secure and we were feeling rather satisfied with our good fortune.
We’ve always loved the town of Sisters (if you haven’t been before, here’s your sign!) but being attached to Little Geo hindered us somewhat and since we planned to stay for several nights, we decided to unhitch and drop Little Geo in the forest so we could venture into town unencumbered.
Atlas and Fenix did their part to set up our new base camp by placing the wheel chocks on both trailer tires and helping Nick hold the drill to lower the stabilizer jacks onto their little yellow leveling platforms. Teamwork makes the dream work and before long Little Geo was disconnected and we were officially free to come and go as we pleased.
We spent the rest of the afternoon walking around among the tall trees, pine needles crunching beneath our feet as we took photos of the beautiful area while Crixus weaved his way between trees with his nose to the ground, delighted by his newfound freedom.
We had finally found our bliss and it seemed that nothing could take it away from us. But then 2020 came knocking again, in this case, literally.
Knock Knock.
The sound echoed loudly off the trailer walls and our heads popped up in startled surprise. Someone was at the door? Here? The last thing we expected in our secluded spot in the middle of the forest was a visitor but there was no denying the knock as it sounded again, a loud and clumsy pounding on our door.
Not knowing what to expect, Nick carefully eased the door open a crack in an effort to keep Crixus and the kids inside and found a man drunkenly swaying on his feet, his dog by his side, standing outside our door looking up at him asking for a light.
Considering we were deep in Covid times Nick kindly told him no, sorry we didn’t have what he was looking for and the strangers demeaner suddenly shifted, raising the hair on the back of my neck as he repeated his request in a more forceful tone.
He told us in no uncertain terms that he refused to believe that we didn’t have a lighter anywhere in our travel trailer and that he wasn’t going anywhere until he got what he was looking for.
Through the crack in the door Nick tried to communicate once again that we couldn’t help him while I tried to keep an overly friendly and under cautioned Atlas from striking up a conversation with the belligerent drunk at the same time holding back a collarless Crixus who had suddenly started growling.
The mans attitude continued to escalate and Crixus clearly did not like the way the situation was going. Doing my best to hold onto the scruff of his neck, I could feel his hackles rise as deep guttural growls ripped from his throat before escaping between snarling teeth.
But the man didn’t seem to notice or even care that he was talking to Nick through a crack in the door or the fact that I was barely restraining the 95 pounds of pure protective muscle that was snapping in his direction.
Crixus began lunging forward, my grasping fingers ripping hair as he tried to get closer to the door, his teeth bared as his deep growls continued to echo off the thin trailer walls. He was frothing at the mouth and my hold was slipping when suddenly the man just sat down on the ground outside our door. I’ll wait he said.
In reaction to that, Nick slammed the door shut, turned the lock and looked to me at a complete loss on what to do next. We were stranded in an unhitched trailer with no cell service and no weapons besides a small pocket knife and our big red fur missile.
Maybe he was harmless, just a drunk who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Maybe he would just take the hint of a closed door and go away. But maybe he wasn’t and maybe he wouldn’t.
He clearly wasn’t behaving like a reasonable human being and there was no knowing what he would or wouldn’t do. I know it was the fear talking, but there were so many things he could do to our property in a fit of rage while we were trapped inside. Stolen propane tanks, slashed tires and broken windows were just a few of the things that came to mind, plus who knew if he was armed.
We felt so helpless and trapped and Crixus’s reaction to him had really set us on edge. Our mild mannered goofball had turned into a feral rabid dog in a matter of seconds and given the way he still stood glaring at the door with his teeth bared and hackles raised, he didn’t consider the threat resolved just yet.
What do we do?
It wasn’t just us trapped inside, we had the boys too, who were oblivious to the possible danger sitting outside our door and it wasn’t like we could just sneak out and get into the Pilot and drive away.
Risking a peek out the window, true to his word, our most unwelcome drunken visitor was indeed waiting with no obvious intention of leaving until he got what he was looking for. All this for a light?
We had the propane stove but we absolutely did not want to open to the door to him again, let alone allow him inside to light his smokes on the stove top. And besides, even if we did, Crixus would just turn him to mincemeat anyway.
Nick had a small lighter in his pack from when he was hiking the Pacific Crest Trail, but it was buried away beneath the kids bunks, really only accessible from the outside.
Suddenly I remembered we had stashed an emergency long handled lighter in the storage area under the stove so with a small cry of triumph I produced the tool that might very well keep the darkness at bay and handed it to Nick.
A lighter was a small price to pay if it made him go away, so in an effort to keep the peace, I grabbed Crixus by the scruff once more, watching as Nick unlocked the front door and cracked it just enough to toss the lighter out to the man before slamming the door shut, just missing closing it on Crixus’s snapping teeth. Maybe he’d go away now.
Knock Knock.
Hearts pounding, our heads snapped up again and our wild eyes met as we tried to somehow silently communicate. What could he possibly want now? Please, please PLEASE just go away.
Knock Knock.
But it sounded again, more determined this time and Crixus met the sound with another long deep growl of warning. He was loosing patience and we were too.
Letting Crixus a little closer to the door to make his warning better known, Nick cracked the door a final time to see the man trying to hand our lighter back. In between growls, we told him to keep it and to be on his way but once again, he would not take no for an answer and insisted we take it back.
Wanting more than anything for the situation to be over, Nick carefully took the lighter back between thumb and forefinger and made to close the door but the stranger stopped him with an outreached hand and a strange offering. Want a beer? Um no. Absolutely not and then Nick closed the door, throwing the bolt with a loud click.
With fingers and toes crossed, we peered out the window and saw that he was finally, FINALLY taking the hint and walking away and we heaved a collective sigh of relief.
Tonight, Crixus would get ALL the treats!
Having never been in a situation like that before, it was a huge comfort to know that when the chips were down, we could count on Crixus to be our backup. I’ll never forget the feral look in his eyes as he fearlessly stared down his enemy or the sounds of his growls rumbling out from between bared, snapping teeth, reverberating inside that tiny trailer.
It took some time for our hearts to return to their natural rhythm and we took turns looking out the window to make sure our unwelcome visitor hadn’t returned.
We felt betrayed. So much for quiet, peaceful solitude. The feeling of safety had shattered entirely and I no longer felt protected and safe surrounded by the tall trees.
Now, I felt isolated and vulnerable, alone and unprotected, scared and angry. I wished we could go just a few hours back in time because then we wouldn’t have moved to this new spot and then maybe the crazy person wouldn’t have knocked on our door.
To our surprise not twenty minutes later we saw dust billowing up in the distance as a black and white vehicle approached our location. As it got closer we saw the tell tale light bubble on top and a gold Sheriff badge on the side and a small sense of security returned.
The police truck drove past us, deeper into the forest until we could no longer see it. A few minutes later we saw it drive back into our line of sight and watched as it slowly turned down the stretch of dirt road that would lead it directly to our camping spot.
The officer parked behind the Pilot and slowly walked up to our door. It would seem that we weren’t the only ones our drunken friend had paid a visit to.
He told us that the guy was out of his mind drunk or drugged, or both, and had been relentlessly harassing other campers in the area. Apparently he had knocked on the wrong door just before us and had found himself on the bad end of a revolver. That moved him along in a hurry and was partly to blame for his hostile disposition when he happened upon us a bit further up the road.
Lucky us.
The police officer told us he was sorry for our misfortune and that he would continue patrolling the area until they could locate the man in question.
It did calm our minds somewhat, but we still felt jumpy and tense for the rest of the night, listening for noises where none could be found. Still, at some point I found myself laying there wide awake and to this day I still swear I heard a voice out there in the eternally black night.
Morning couldn’t come soon enough and I was up with the sun in a rare early morning rising. We hadn’t gotten much rest the night before and as we blinked the remaining sleep from our eyes we loaded up into the Pilot and made the short drive into Sisters for a round of much needed coffee from Dutch Bros.
Yes please.
After getting fueled up on caffeine we parked the Pilot and I stayed in the car with the boys while Nick walked around the corner to the Sisters Bakery for some delicious donuts to go with our coffee.
We’d been to the bakery several times before which was inside a tiny building so it wasn’t an uncommon thing to see people lining the sidewalk waiting for their chance to get some sugary goodness.
What was uncommon was their system for how orders were currently being placed and fulfilled. A laminated menu was set on a small platform outside the building and next to it was a pen, a bottle of disinfectant spray and a roll of paper towels.
After watching people order before him, Nick learned that they expected him to pick up the menu, circle the items he would like to order and hold it up to the locked front door of the small bakery. They would then put his order in a box while he used the disinfectant spray to wipe down the menu so someone else could could order.
From behind the glass, like something from a dystopian novel he found the staff inside filling his box of donuts while wearing gas masks and gloves and what looked like a full hazmat suit.
Surely that was the sleepless night talking right? They couldn’t really be wearing gas masks, could they? But as they carefully inched his order outside the barely cracked door he saw their fear stricken eyes peering out at him from behind the clear plastic lenses of an honest to goodness gas mask.
It was honestly kind of laughable that now he was the one on the other side of a slamming door as the baker threw the deadbolt lock securing themselves safely inside once more.
Oh the irony.
Mystified by the odd transaction, Nick thanked them kindly and returned to the Pilot with his pile of sweets and a bewildered expression on his face.
Covid strikes again.
Just when we thought this new world couldn’t get any stranger you find yourself buying donuts from someone in a hazmat suit complete with gas mask after a standoff with a drunk man over a lighter. Maybe it really was the apocalypse.
Either way, our peace had been shattered and we longed for security and stability more than anything else and so we returned to our little trailer in the woods to figure out our next move.
The weather report promised that the arrival of snow was imminent and we were torn between the desire to stay and experience the magic of a snowy forest and the deep need for the comforts of “home”.
Should we stay or should we go?
The idea of being stranded in the snow was a daunting prospect after the unexpected encounter the night before. Plus, who knew how long the snow would last or when it would be safe to drive out of it.
And based on our most recent encounters with humans, the pandemic paranoia and fear continued to escalate and honestly we had grown tired of trying to decipher the meaning of it all. At the end of a long and chaotic journey, the drunk man and the gas mask bakery had merely been the cherry on top of all the madness.
We ached for the familiar and we were tired of fighting the unknown so it was decided.
We were done and it was time to go.
Bright and early the next morning we hitched Little Geo back to the Pilot, stowed all our things and drove until our tires met pavement once more and then just like that it was over and we were homeward bound.
