Rescue from Cripple Tree Mountain

George and I (Cynthia) went to Colorado Springs to purchase land in the mountains where we plan to build our retirement home. This is an eyewitness account of our trip and rescue from Cripple Tree Mountain as told by Cynthia E. Martin.
 

Where to Live

We had been married for only 7 months when George decided we should move to Colorado. He said: Homes and land are cheaper there; that Colorado had a milder climate then Arizona, in Colorado, he could be closer to his children and grandchildren. It sounded good to me I love family and good weather is always a plus in my book. Also, I just happen to like: mountains, pine trees, deer, elk, Lamas, wildlife, lakes, creeks, ponds, moss, snow, decomposed granite and all the things that make country living enjoyable. Therefore, we mutually decided to move to Colorado and acquire a home for our retirement. George contacted a broker on the Internet, told him what we were looking for and the broker setup showings for us.

 Going to Colorado

Leaving our three dogs in a kennel for a week would be very expensive and cruel because the dogs hate kennel life. So, I convinced George, that it would be best, if we took the animals with us he agreed. For the dogs to travel with us in comfort, George took out the back seats to our Lincoln Continental in there place, I put two large dog beds. Then I covered the beds with a twin-size quilt. This way, our Labrador, Dalmatian, and Cocker Spaniel would have lots of room for the long trip. I also brought along two twin-size bed sheets for reasons my brain had not shared with me at that time. It just seemed the right thing to do at the time. The following morning we packed enough clothes, food, and supplies to last a month. We planned to be in Colorado for only one week, but one never knows.

 The Right Way and the Wrong Way Packing—there is a right way and the wrong way. My way is the right way, I originally put our things into the trunk then George came along and repacked it. We argued about where things should go and in the end, George won, but not without protest. We both jumped on the trunk so it would close then loaded up the animals. Our first stop was the vet. Our dog, Sasha needed bandages changed. A couple of weeks ago she was hit by a car none of her bones broke, but she did have to have stitches in her leg. The vet bill was $400.00. She is all right now and she stays away from cars. George made the appointment yesterday. Now the vet knows we are coming in and that we planned to drive for Colorado this morning. Well, it took her one-hour to see us. As it turned out it was our regular vet’s day off! The vet acting in her place was extremely lackadaisical about getting to us. George was furious, for George. He turned into the town crier, voicing his mistreatment to everyone for the total time we had to sit there and wait. So much for an early start and having a good P.R. with the veterinarian staff in the future.

The Game

The drive from Scottsdale Arizona to Colorado Springs lasted 13 hours—not a record by any means. Why with all the stops, both for people and dogs—it is a wonder we got there at all. During this long drive, to amuse my self and to keep George from venting his manly-man road habits every five minutes I decided to record everything he said that "I" found annoying. Well, it turned out that my game annoyed him and consequently he tried not to do certain things. I was achieving my objective in this way. No one, especially, George enjoys being under a microscope…who would? Several times he asked me to stop taking notes, but I was resolved to collect this data. I wanted to present the results to him at the end of the trip, more or less as a tool for behavioral awakening. He drove on and I continued to collected the data for several hours, feeling, when completed that it would also help future generations of wife’s and girlfriends to understand the minds of man and why they drive like they do. It was not meant to be…George grew tired of driving and insisted that I drive. We switched drivers in Santa Fe New Mexico. George then picked up my notepad and looked at me. “I’m waiting. He said, do something." I laughed. And drove on in silence, eventually he fell asleep.  

Here is my tally on George from Arizona to Santa Fe:

1. Complaining about bad drivers and left lane hogs: 11

2. Horn honking at slow, reckless, or stupid drivers: 13

3. Giving the above drivers "the look" when passing them: 13

4. Complaining about highway roads or construction delays: 6

5. Talking about the weather and temperature: 9

6. Telling me the history of steel mills, coalmines, and other boring stuff: 10

7. Pointing out old roads or old freeways or Route 66: 7

8. Complaining about rush hour traffic or long traffic lights: 12

9. Making annoying sounds—La La La, horn sounds with lips and singing badly: 17

10. Whizzing around corners on steep mountain roads nearly going off the road—causing his wife (me) to scream bloody murder: 11

11. Cussing &^%$#@@!*%%#*: 13 Reasons: See numbers 1,2,3

Colorado

We arrived in Colorado Springs late in the evening and as luck would have it all the motels were booked up. I was tired and road worn, I clinched my jaw and said nothing. The only place that George could find that had a vacancy was Crossland.

"I hadn’t counted on this." George said. "I should have called and made reservations a week ago."

Crossland is a budget motel—one of those weekly types. Well, we got the last room they had a non-smoking room made for midgets. Okay, I will come clean…our room was a handicap room. Ever stay in a handicap room? The shower nozzle is positioned to spray the bather at navel level. The bathroom is  tiled and that makes it cold, the mirror and sink are almost at knee level, if you use the mirror to brush your teeth you see only your neck!  Oh, and you need a ladder to get up on the toilet—once you are up there your feet dangle above the floor—this cuts off the circulation to your legs and if you stay on the pot too long your feet fall off. Oh, what fun! Our room had one nightstand, one table, one chair, a little dresser and small closet with no door. There was a 12" color TV, a mini-refrigerator and microwave that was at knee level. Our room came with a coffeepot with no coffee, small aluminum sink, a two-burner stove, two plates, two glasses, a pot and a pan.

"What about pets? Are they allowed in the rooms?" I asked.

"Sorry, honey. No."

"My dogs have to stay in the car!"

"They will be alright, they have their beds, water and food. Stop worrying. Oh, there is a big field behind the motel we can walk the dogs there. They’ll be fine."  

A New Day

The next morning George got in the shower and turned on the water. Nothing happened, some short or disabled person had stolen the showerhead! So, George took a bath using a pan to rinse his hair. He complained the whole time he was in the tub. I paid him no mind Judge Joe Brown was on TV. George got out of the tub, dried, dressed and tried to call the front office, but the telephone in our room was not working right. The receiver made static noises, when it cleared a little, he heard music next then a pilot talking to the control tower at a near by airport. To George, Mr. Phone Man, this was the last straw! George went to the office and demanded a room change. The clerk told him there were no rooms available so we had to make do. George eventually returned with the maintenance man who fixed the showerhead.

"George, George! I asked from the bathroom, What about the phone?"

"Management promises to fix it sometime today." George replied.

"Hurry up. Want to go to breakfast?"

"Do you have to ask?" Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day. I was showered and dressed in no time. We walked to the car, got in and looked at each other.

"What is that horrible smell?" We both said at the same time.

We turned and looked at the dogs in the backseat. One of the dogs had had an accident. Poop was all over one side of the comforter. The dogs huddled together at the other end of the comforter giving us dirty looks. The smell! It was awful!

"Ahh!" We screamed and jumped out of the car gagging and gasping for air. I got the dogs out of the car as quickly as I could...poor babies. I walked them while George cleaned up the mess. When I came back, I put one of the bed sheets over the dog pillows in case there was another accident.

"I bet that new dog food you bought caused this." I said.

"Do you think?" He answered. I just gave him "the look".
George put the soiled quilt in the trunk of the car—we would wash it this evening. After doing all of this, it was too late to eat breakfast so we had lunch instead. Then we spent the rest of the day looking at Modular homes. When Modular homes fell short of our needs we decided to buy land and build. So, the following morning we met with our broker and bought 5 acres of land in Colorado Mountains Estates near Florissant Fossil Beds. Then we found a builder who claimed he could build a house for us in our price range. We closed the deal, and were then free to enjoy some leisure time with the grandchildren.  

Inspector Gadget

"I think we should take the grandchildren to see the movie "Inspector Gadget" today. What do you think?" I said.

"I don’t know. Their mother may not let them go." "Well, let’s make the effort anyway. The worse that can happen is that she’ll say no." "Okay, sounds good to me."

We drove over to Mike & Candice Naanes house and asked permission to take the grandchildren, Cody and Blake to the movies. Mike was all for it, he wanted to take a nap, Candice wanted to clean the house, and the movies would only give her a few hours of free time. She denied our request, on the grounds that, Blake and Cody were bad all week long. She did not want to reward them for destructive and mischievous behavior. She would allow the boys to go with their father to see our new lot though and if the boys were good today, they could go to the movies with us tomorrow. So we put our dogs in their backyard and piled into Mike’s jeep wagon. It took us an hour to drive to our new lot. The good thing about the drive was that I didn’t scream once, Mike is a good driver. (Giving George "the look".)
 

Cripple Tree Mountain

An hour later, we were standing on our property. George pointed out the many boulders to Mike Naanes. The two boulders, up by the main road, are a conversation piece. A tree grows out of the boulders to one side and then straight up, shaped like the letter "L". George and I love this tree! Because of this tree, George and I have decided to name our property Cripple Tree Estates. Mike lifted his eyebrows, smiled and said nothing. George showed Mike our lot, tree, tree, tree, boulder, and boulder, tree, etc. while I took the grandchildren down the main road. I wanted to show them the view at the end of the street and the giant boulders there, also the colonel’s grave, view of the mountains, two lakes and the beautiful grassy valleys to the west. The view here is breathtakingly beautiful, for boys age seven and nine; it was no big deal. Cody and Blake were only interested in climbing on the rocks. "Okay, enough climbing. Let’s get back to the lot and see what Grandpa and your dad are up to." I said. Back at the lot… "Dad!" Blake shouted.

"George!"

"Hay! Down here! Come down here!" Shouted George and Mike.

They were standing on a boulder the size of a two-story house near the bottom of the hill. Cody and Blake ran down the hill, I chose to walk. I took my time the ground was moist and slippery in places because of the rain we had the passed three days. Blake hung back and waited for me while Cody ran ahead and joined his grandpa. George and Cody climbed off a boulder just as Mike was climbing up on it. I sensed something was up, Mike wanted to get ahead of his father so he jumped off the boulder at a defenseless Aspen, landing on the tree like a wounded monkey. Because of the dampness he lost his grip and plunged backwards into a pine tree. The jolt looked as if it knocked the wind out of him. He looked surprised and shocked. He looked right at me. I knew he was in pain yet r righted himself and walked off as if he meant to do that…when I saw he was going to live I laughed aloud and said, "Men...doing manly things and hurting themselves while they are at it. What in the world were you trying to do? Slid down that tree?" Mike pretended not to hear me…he just hurried after George. We all continued down the hill—Mike and George out in front, then the boys, with me following up the rear. The men were searching for caves in every nook and cranny they came upon. Then they actually found a cave. George and Mike looked at the cave’s entrance and George said: "Why don’t you go back in there and see what you can find?" "Why don’t you?" Mike looked at George with an indignant expression. "Because I asked you first. Be a man, go in there and tell me what you find."

"NO WAY! You go in there."

"But you’re young, you can run faster then I can." "SO."

"So."

It might not be safe. Anything could be in there."

"So…" "So! Do bears and mountain lion ring a bell with you?" Mike asked with dismay.

"Of course, but they probably ran off when they heard us coming. Just go in there and see if they are gone. Here take this stick." George teased.

"What’s the stick for?" "Ever see the movie Jurassic Park? One word, fetch." George said laughing.

"Very funny. There could be anything in that cave! Bears, lions, bats, cave snakes…spiders!" Mike protested. "Oh, and Mike…don’t forget the killer squirrels and chipmunks." I yelled out. They both decided not to go inside. I looked away from them and walked on laughing at their antics.

"Hay, I bet this is a bears’ den. It has all the markings of one. Why don’t you brave boys come down here and check this cave out!" I yelled. Cody and Blake ran over to me and looked at the opening. Cody was going to crawl in, but I stopped him. George and Mike said they would be right down...no sooner said then done. Mike jumped on a boulder in front of George. George tried to follow, suddenly George’s right foot slipped out from under him causing him to hydroplane over the wet moss on one foot. He fell seven feet down the hill before coming to a stop, landing awkwardly on his left ankle. There was a loud snap and a scream of pain. "Tell me that sound was a branch breaking…" Mike asked, in a passive, but alarmed voice. "I wish it was a branch breaking...it sure hurt. Help me up."

George attempted to stand up and as he did, his left foot collapsed under him and exploded in excruciating pain. He turned white, started sweating—then his face contorted into something that resembled a weight lifter. He dropped to the ground screaming. Everyone ran to him and then stood there not believing that this had actually happened. "How bad is it?" Mike asked.

"It is broken." George gasped; biting back the throbbing pain he was experiencing.

"Are you sure?"

"Ah!" George screamed, his voice echoed through the valley.

"I call that a yes." I said.

"Now what?" Mike asked.

"We go through his wallet and leave him here for the bears." I said with a straight face.

"He has double-indemnity we can all walk away from this a rich person, that is, if the bears chew him up good." Mike and the grandchildren looked at me in disbelief. George knew better, he knew my sense of humor and laughed.

"Cynthia! (Laughing) This is not the time! George said, Mike, give me your belt."

"Why? My pants will fall down."

" For God sake, I want to secure my ankle with it. In Boys Scouts they taught us to wrap a belt around an injured ankle. "

"Oh, alright then, be careful with it, Mike Naanes said, it’s a designer belt." We all paused and looked at Mike for a long moment then laughed. Yes, members of the Naanes family seem to have a sense of humor that runs rampant at the oddest times. "Designer belt? Really, who makes it?" George says as he looks at the belt.

"Wal-Mart…I’m kidding dad." "Oh."

George wrapped the belt around his ankle like a mountain man then he tried to stand up again. It didn’t work, he screamed like a mountain man being mauled by a bear. I’m not sure, but I think they heard him all the way to Teller County. "What do we do now? For real now?" Mike asked.

"We leave him for dead, and collect the insurance…double indemnity. Double indemnity…has a nice ring to it—doesn’t it?" We contemplated it for a moment—only to tease George then we decided to think. That took a few more minutes too. "Someone has to go for help." Mike said.

"I’ll go, it’s better then staying here listening to George frighten the forest animals with his screaming." "Hey! I’m in pain. I can’t help it." George sniveled. "I know you can’t, I’m sorry. I’ll go for help. Mike can stay here with George and keep the bears away. Entertain him with something...like a story." "Oh, thanks."

"Besides, I’ve seen how Mike moves in the forest, slamming into trees, we don’t need two of you down." "Hey!" Mike bellowed in protest as I snickered and winked at him.

"I’m going to walk out of here, George said, Mike find me something that I can use as a crutch." Mike did, he found him a large tree trunk that looked like a primitive crutch, a Flintstones crutch to me…it looked like it weighed a ton, he handed it to George. George got up on one leg, stuck the crutch under his arm, and fell face down. Blake and Cody covered their eyes it was that horrible. As George was having this near death experience, Mike stood there and watched him; he was too far away to prevent his father from falling. He felt awful about causing his father fall the third time with that heavy crutch he gave him. That crutch…drug George, halfway down the hill. When George let go of the anchor (crutch) and stop sliding and screaming, he took a deep breath and said: "That wasn’t fun. Someone will have to go for help. Obviously, I can’t walk." "Help? Where? We are in the middle of nowhere!" I said.

"I saw a house, it was in that direction, you can see it from that boulder." Mike said.

"Is that right?" I climbed up on the boulder and sure enough, I spotted a spec of a house off in the distance. If I followed the valley it would lead me right to it I thought.

"Wow…that house is way out there. It will take me some time to reach it. Mike you stay with George, this is a job for mountain women. " I put my hands on my hips, turned my head to the right, looking smug and confident. George smiled, and said to Mike, "She can do it to."

"Can I come with you?" Cody and Blake asked. I looked at their father, Mike nodded his approval, so off we went walking quickly because darkness was almost upon us.  

First Contact

The boys and I had very little trouble hiking down the mountain. The small valley’s terrain was passable. There were no cliffs; therefore, we could navigate around or over, anything we encountered. I showed Cody and Blake the deer trails: "Look boys, this is a deer tail. Did you know that since the beginning of time man has used these trails to find water? You could say these trails were the first roads."

"Wow."

"Yep, cavemen, Indians, trappers, and the likes all used deer trail’s at one time or another for various reasons. Today we are going to us them to find help for grandpa." "Will grandpa walk again?" Cody asked.

"Yes, but it will take his bones longer to mend because he isn’t young like you are." "Are bears going to eat grandpa and my dad?" Blake asked.

"Well, that’s a tuff one, if they do they will take on the personality of the one’s they eat." "What do you mean? Blake inquired wide-eyed.

"If a bear eats George---grandpa, the bear will act just like him. First the bear will run other bears off the road, growl a lot, then the bear will probably walk off a cliff because it wont have any depth-perception, so if a bear does eat grandpa he will be avenged." The boys thought about this for a moment then said: "Uh huh. You’re tricking us." I laughed and said, “that I am. Bears can’t eat grandpa, he’s too tuff, their teeth will break. So, stop worrying about it watch where you step. This is steep here, sit on your butt and scoot down this way. Put your hands behind you and walk like a spider. I’ll go first and show you how it is done." Blake and Cody followed me.

"I’m okay. I don’t need any help." Blake said. But, he did, I helped him anyway. "I don’t need any help either." Cody said. Brothers! I smiled and kept him from sliding down the hill too. He looked relieved; we shared a moment, ah that was nice. The path we were following dead-ended in front of a big bush.

"This is the end of the trail, from here on we rough it. Follow me." I said.

I looked around the forest and found another way to go. I felt pressured and panicky because our light was decreasing by the minute and from where I was I could not see the house, I lead the children by instinct alone.

“We better hurry the sun is setting. We don’t want to be lost too.”    

We were now at the point in our journey where I didn’t know which way to go…left or right or keep going straight ahead? What do I do? I paused to think; then I decided to yell:

"Hello! Anyone out there?" I screamed repeatedly.

Then, to my left I heard the sweet sound of dogs barking. I smiled at the boys and said: "Follow the sound of those dogs! We have made first contact!” "What does that mean?" Cody asked.

"Where there are dogs, there are people, where there are people there is help.” “What do we do if no one is home?” Cody asked. “We wait, no one would go off and leave their dogs to starve to death.” “Yeah.” Cody commented. We walked on until we found four large German Shepherds. We were happier to see them; then they were to see us. In fact, if loose those dogs would have pounced on us and ripped the flesh from our bones, so it seemed. I took the boys by the hands and lead them away from the dogs. Then we approached the back of a little house.

Bark! Bark! Bark! Bark! Bark!

“It’s a good thing those dogs are in a kennel.” “Would they hurt us?” Cody asked. “You bet.” "Hello! Hello! HELLO! Anyone home?" I shouted. Sometime went by, then a lady in her late fifties, came to the door. She thought we were hikers trespassing on her land. She said, something about trespassing and I responded, "We are not hikers, I am your neighbor, we need help. My husband is on the mountain. He fell and broke his ankle. We need help. His son, the boy’s father, is with him. Is your husband home?" She did not answer that question. "Do you want to use my telephone?" She asked with caution.

"Yes, please."

The lady went inside the house and brought our a portable telephone.

"Thank you very much. Oh, excuse me, my name is Cynthia, this is Blake, and this young man here is Cody."

"How do you do. I am Mrs. Thatcher."

"Who do you call in an emergency around here? I am new, I don’t know these things, yet." "I don’t know, I never had an emergency." Mrs. Thatcher answered. "Well, when in doubt 911 works for me. Let’s see what happens." I dialed 911got an operator, explained the nature of my emergency and was routed to the proper channels. Mrs. Thatcher’s gave the police her name and address. I gave information about my husband and hung up…help is on the way!
 

Barking Dogs

"Isn’t that something? We found you by your dogs, and just before we lost all of our light. Your dogs are like a lighthouse in the forest." "I never heard that before, interesting, and all this time I thought they were just noisy." We both laughed.

"Mrs. Thatcher, I need to tell my husband that help is on the way. Will you let the boys stay here with you?

"Of course dear," she said. "I will return as soon as I can. Blake, Cody…I think you should take off your shoes so you don’t get Mrs. Thatcher’s floor all dirty." "Thank you for thinking of that, I just cleaned." Mrs. Thatcher commented.

"Now, Cody, Blake you must be good, don’t touch anything and mind your manners. I’ll see you both in a little while. Don’t worry about anything." As I left the house mosquitoes started buzzing around my head and biting my legs. This was the least of my worries I had gone off without a flashlight.  

Help is a Coming

I hiked halfway up the hill in twilight, stopped to catch my breath, and yelled to George and Mike:

"I made contact! Their out there! I made contact! Help is on the way!"

"What?" Mike yelled in a far off voice.

I yelled several times more: "Do you copy?" No, answer. Good grief! I went higher up the hill and yelled from a different spot:

"HELP IS COMING!"

"Yes, we heard you." George yelled back.

"MIKE, the boys are in the house." I yelled.

"W-h-a-t?" Mike answered.

"THE BOYS ARE IN THE HOUSE". I yelled louder.

"W-h-a-t?"

He has got to be kidding! "THE BOYS ARE IN THE HOUSE you ear-less wonder". "WHAT!" (I was getting mad now). "THE---BOYS---ARE---IN---THE--- HOUSE!"

"I H-E-A-R-D YOU THE FIRST TIME! THANK-YOU!" Mike yelled back.

"What? Huh, Oh."

"You better knock it off, I’m not medicated right now." I heard George and Mike laugh. "H-o-w IS GEORGE doing?"

"WHAT?"

"Oh, good grief! "HOW IS GEORGE?"

"WHAT?"

"GEORGE!"

"Oh, the hell with it." I mumbled aloud.

"HELP IS ON THE WAY".

"WE KNOW THAT!"

"DON’T MAKE ME COME UP THERE!" I warned. "We hear you!" They were both still laughing.

Mrs. Thatcher’s House I went back down the hill in a huff, men! Cody and Blake were ready to leave when I knocked on the door and no wonder; Mrs. Thatcher dwelled in a small two-room house shaped like a hexagon no bigger then a two-car garage. The ceiling in the center of the room was perhaps six-foot. The other walls were five feet, then four feet. Her house looked like she had cramped forty years of living into her living room. There was a path about 15" wide, that started from the front door, lead to the kitchen and to the bedroom in the back. Every pocket of space had something in it.

The slanting walls displayed pictures of Mrs. Thatcher family. The picture frames were fasten to the wall, top and bottom. Her photos show three generations of family, a daughter and her husband, a child, and a great grand child. There were no pictures of Mrs. Thatcher’s husband. Standing in a crib in the middle of this small room was Mrs. Thatcher’s pride and joy, her three-year old great grandson. Behind the grandson was a small wood burning stove and next to it a 12" color television. The whole house seemed to consist of craft projects of one type or another. Her kitchen was small, less then 6’, it had a couple of cabinets above the sink, two burner stove, microwave, and a mini-refrigerator on the floor. Pillows and stuffed animals consumed the couch and every tabletop had something on it. I moved the pillows aside so I could sit down. "Are you thirsty? Would you like something to drink?" Mrs. Thatcher asked the boys and me.

"Oh, yes, please. I’m dying of thirst." She gave us Seven-Up and told me to make myself comfortable on the couch. From that point on we made idle talk for forty minutes. Then I spotted flashing lights coming down her driveway. The sheriff, ambulance, and emergency rescue crew had arrived. Doors opened and slammed closed; first aid kits and other bags hung on shoulders, flashlights with wide beams of light crisscross each other in all directions. It reminded me of scenes from the X-Files. (TV Show) I stepped outside and put on my shoes and windbreaker and yelled, "Over here!"

The Rescue Begins

"What is the nature of the accident?" A man who looked like an off duty fireman asked.

"My husband has broken his leg or ankle. He is a big man, six foot, about 230 pounds. Right now, his son is with him up on the mountain. They are about a quarter of a mile up in that direction." I said.

"Will you come with us and point the way?"

"Yes, of course."

"Can we come with you?" Cody and Blake broke in.

"No. I’m sorry, you must stay here it is too dark for you to come. Be good. I’ll be back soon with your dad and grandpa." I answered. "Okay." They said with sad faces.

The fireman disappeared and another man came forward holding a CB Radio. "Hi, thank you for coming. I am Cynthia, the wife of the injured man."

"Hello. My name is Greg." We shook hands, as I watched two women walk by us wearing white rubber gloves and carrying tote bags. They went up the hill.

"Are you and those women it? My husband is a very big man."

"For now we are. How big is he?" I told him and he called for backup. Seemed like everyone was wearing white rubber gloves and carrying flashlights, and CB Radios. I yelled to the women:

"Follow the sound of the laughing men." (George and Mike were both talking and laughing about something).

"Sharon, Greg said into his CB, switch to channel 8." There was no answer. I yelled the information up to Sharon. Because of the mountains, the CB’s were useless. Greg and I worked at clearing a path for the stretcher-bearers. The women did God knows what to George. Everyone who went up to George ended up laughing. What in the world were they doing up there? I wondered.

"How is George doing!" I yelled. No one answered again...figures. More men arrived and made their way up the hill. I heard more laughter. George’s laughter was the loudest. I decided to go up and check on George. As far as I knew they were tickling him to death. When I got to him I found him lying in a metal frame body basket on top of blankets. George was in good mood I came up and stroked his head. He turned toward me and smiled. George was making everyone laugh; the rescuers were making George and fellow rescuer’s laugh. I guess it is a man thing. Andy, a paramedic, put a temporary cast on George’s leg, then the paramedics fasten the basket’s straps around George.  

The Descent

I got a flashlight from one of the pallbearers and lead our party of nine down the hill. Sharon used her flashlight to light the way for the pallbearers—stretcher carriers; I used my light-to-light Sharon’s way. Mike was one of the eight men who helped to carry George down the hill. The precession started out slow then picked up pace as the men chanted in a deep voices: "Hee, hoo, hee. Hee, hoo, hee." They all laughed. Then someone yelled:

"Time to rest!" There was more laughter. The chant started again:

"Hee, hoo, hee. Hee, hoo, hee." Then someone started singing "Old Man River" and there was more laughter.

(Singing) Tote that…lifts that bale, sooner or later, you end up in ja-il. Old man River, he keeps on…etc. Sharon shouted: "Shut-up! And watch where you step!" She pointed a beam of light at their feet.

"Say, George, next time people carry you like this it will be at your funeral." Everyone laughed again, George the loudest. I never saw anything like it; a bunch of comedians, were carrying my husband down the mountain.

"So, George, what have you learned from all of this?" I yelled.

He answered, "That I am not a super hero?"

"Close enough." (More laughter) One of the pallbearers announced: I have to rest. Mutiny spread rapidly on Cripple Tree Mountain. Me to…me to…me to. Sharon said: "But you’ve only gone ten feet." "So, what’s your point? This guy is heavy, sorry George." So, they set George down headfirst, his legs pointing up the hill. This is when Andy lost his balance and fell into a bush. "Looks like we lost one." J.T. said laughingly. After they rested, they picked George up and continued carrying him down the mountain. Stopping four, more times to rest before reaching the bottom; it took the volunteers forty-five minutes to get George off the mountain. Once down everyone was in good spirits, however, their arms were all longer on one side. We moved George from the basket to a gurney and then into a waiting ambulance. George and I thanked everyone; Greg took Mike, Cody, and Blake in his truck to get Mikes jeep. I thanked Mrs. Thatcher again for her hospitality, and told her I would call on her properly in the future, "Next time I’ll bring bread, not a broken husband." She laughed and said she would look forward to my visit. It took an hour to get to Memorial Hospital in Colorado Springs; George was given morphine and taken to X-ray. The X-ray revealed that George’s lower tibia (shinbone) had fractures in four places. They were clean breaks, not out of alignment at all. If you had to break bones, this was the right way to do it—that’s my George. They sent George home with a temporary splint. Mike and I got George into our handicap room around 3 AM. I looked at George and said: "Well, it looks like this room came in handy after all. Who would have guessed?"

The Next Day

George saw an orthopedic doctor, who was surprised that the hospital let George go home in his present condition. The doctor reviewed his X-ray, had his splint removed and his leg put into a knee-high fiberglass cast. I picked out the color—it was fluorescent orange. George got a prescription for pain pills and we were done. See your doctor in one week.  

Coming Home

Our HMO covered one visit out of state; so we had to come all the way home so George could into see our primary physician. It looks like Cody and Blake will not be able to see Inspector Gadget with us...oh, well that’s life. I started packing our car the following morning. I unlocked the car and got in, there I was greeted by the refreshing smell of fresh dog poop in the backseat! I can’t blame the dogs, really, George got a new brand of dog food just before we came on this trip. The dogs just don’t like it. Well, I got everything cleaned up, and packed. We spent the night in New Mexico, at the LaQuinta Motel. The LaQuinta Motel is one of the few motels in Arizona and New Mexico that allow dogs in the rooms. Being allowed in the motel made the dogs very happy, they showed their appreciation too. Around 2 A.M. Scarlet pooped on the carpet, I got awoke choking to death and cursing, and then I cleaned it up. Around 4 A.M. Sasha showed her appreciation by pooping on the carpet by the door; again I got up and cleaned up the mess cursing Pedigree Dog food. We returned to Arizona Thursday August 5, since then, I have had house, shopping, dog, and George duty. That is just the way it was in August 1999. Oh, and one more thing, they never fixed the phone in our room at Crossland. On the upside, George wrote an email to Crossland’s Corporate Office complaining about our room. They responded to his email by refunded our whole stay—all eight days! That alone, paid for Sasha’s vet bill. So, I guess there is a happy ending to all of this after all.

The End

By: Cynthia E. Martin

Date: August 6, 1999

Last Update: 03/14/02 08:30:10 AM

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