Surely one of the most memorable adventures of my life...

The story I am about to outline happened on what started out as just another day. This past Wednesday, to be precise. I was camping down at Trinidad Lake State Park for my Field Ornithology class. We'd woken up early and met at the group camping area pavilion at 6am, as was typical for most mornings, to do some bird listening (in real life-- iBird was just a useful IDing tool), discuss plans for the day, and divvy up into vehicles.

So by 6:45 we were on the road, with a couple-hour drive ahead of us to meet up with a cattle rancher whom our professor had met a few weeks prior, on an outing with the Colorado Field Ornithologists. Jumping ahead, Steve was awesome. He lead us all around his property and the adjacent ranch that his aunt and uncle run, and later the wintering grounds for the cattle on his own ranch, which contains a bunch of really cool petroglyphs and an up-in-a-cliff cistern used as a supplemental water resource by early settlers and explorers, including Kit Carson (who very helpfully carved his name into the wall, as did the original rancher from back in to the 1870's). Steve and Joy sat with us while we ate our lunch at "headquarters" (their house, which Steve designed & built, and is beautiful-- the building also contains a shop for working on all the ranch equipment) and talked about working with The Nature Conservancy, the conflicts that have been going on in that area as the ranchers have been fighting the Army for the past 6 years on the Army's attempts to purchase land in that area, supposedly for training or equipment testing grounds (apparently the reasons keep changing as the ranchers do their research and combat them), schooling and playdates when you live so far away from any towns, and more. While walking around the ranches, Steve talked about resource management as their primary work, invasive species mitigation, and the different groups of birders and botanists who have visited his ranch. I was glad to end up riding in Steve's truck while heading out to the cistern area, because we got to ask him even more about everything from cattle breeding to BSE. I learned SO much that day (more than I'll remember, until it comes up at some point and I realize I know something about it). One of the wildlife biologists we met earlier in the week felt it important we get a view of things other than just the birds, as sometimes people get tunnel vision and miss out on other cool and important stuff-- well, Duane would be proud of us on Wednesday. We certainly did get to learn about so many different things.

Oh, but jumping back? About a half hour out of Trinidad, driving on 160 in the middle on nowhere (we were warned to use the restroom before leaving Trinidad, as there was not even a bush to pee behind on our journey-- a statement not at all false), heading east (not too far north of the New Mexico border), suddenly we saw something-- no, two somethings-- big jump over the fence on the right side of the road, dash across the road, over the fence on the other side, and tear across the plain, kicking up dust and moving so fast and fluid we could barely comprehend it. Nonetheless, we very quickly determined that-- see that long distinctive tail?!?-- it was a mountain lion chasing a pronghorn antelope. With great speed. At one point it appeared they were racing next to each other. Then the tables turned, with the pronghorn apparently chasing the mountain lion! We stopped and walkie-talkied the other vehicles, and then pulled up so they could also see around this little rise in the prairie, past which the pair had disappeared momentarily, but apparently in our excitement they got little more than "MOUNTAIN LION!" and not real clear directions on where to actually look (I'm not 100% certain anyone in any of the other 3 vehicles actually got to see it at all. I know at least one or two cars missed out on the scene, entirely). Regardless, within-- 30 seconds? It felt fast, but maybe it was longer than that-- they were already at the horizon. So powerful, so graceful, so Animal Planet. (By the way, when we arrived at the ranch in the beautiful, hidden southeast Colorado canyon country and told Steve about this adventure, he said that mountain lions have a short timeframe to catch their prey, and if they don't pounce and kill it quickly, they get winded from a long chase-- and also that pronghorns have sharp hooves and can do some real damage. So we really don't know who won this back-and-forth chase! Also, Joy said that she has only once ever seen a mountain lion on the road. So, a really unique and rare experience-- particularly with that crazy chase scene!!!!!)

Ok, so jumping forward. The real adventure of the day (the mountain lion was the highlight, for sure, but less of an involved adventure). This may be long, but I could not have made this up had I tried. Such a ridiculous day.

The back story: Christy (our professor) had warned us before heading out, not to stop on the May Ranch for really any reason. This was something she'd been warned about when on that CFO trip earlier. The group at that time had spotted some rare birds and had gotten out to look or take pictures or whatever, and they'd been told they were lucky they hadn't gotten shot. Apparently the proprietor of the May Ranch (who someone later dubbed Frank D. May, which became how we referred to him exclusively, thereafter) is some sort of crazy conspiracy theorist, and is not particularly fond of people on his property. Apparently Steve's take on this individual sort of confirmed his maverick status. So we were told for those six and a half miles, you keep going.

The sign-- which is up at either end of the ranch-- reads "May Ranch. NO TRESPASSING. Next 6.5 Miles. Stay on County Road. NO HUNTING. All Work & Improvements on the May Ranch Proudly Done with NO GOVERNMENT WELFARE."

So. Here goes. (All times are approximate. And some may or may not be off by an hour. My camera's time staff is off, I am almost certain. If I had my field notebook, I'd know for sure, because I recorded the Curlews. Yes I know that statement makes no sense now. Stay tuned.)

4:30pm: We leave Beatty Canyon Ranch, after thanking Steve and Joy Wooten for a really great day.

5:00pm: We pass the first sign for the May Ranch, which we must drive back through on our route.

5:09pm: We (in the lead car) get a message over the walkie talkie: "We have a flat."

Gabriel's car-- disabled. On the May Ranch. Awesome.

5:10-5:25pm: A storm is brewing. Lightning can be seen in the distance. We are stuck on the May Ranch. (This is exactly how horror movies start.) It is discovered that Gabriel (not the man loosening lugnuts-- that would be Matt, our T.A.) had a jack in his vehicle, but had removed it to make more room before this trip (I road down with Gabe and Angie. The vehicle was pretty much full before they picked me up. It's a good thing I pack relatively light). Someone else had a jack. It was not high enough. Sandy wandered off the road to find a big, flat rock to put under it. We all called to her to come back, and not get herself shot. Jack still wasn't high enough. Christy got the jack out of her van. This (in conjunction with, I believe, a second, even thicker big, flat rock) worked. The spare was successfully replaced. Oh, and did I mention....

5:20pm: Tyler runs up to the back of the van, where several of us are hanging out, out of the wind, while we wait for the tire-replacing to finish. "This is what was in Gabe's tire!" He was holding an at least 6-inch thick metal spike. Oh, Frank May. We're all gonna die.

5:26pm: We are getting back into vehicles, ready to resume our return to camp after that delay, when the girls in the car behind us point out: "Christy, your tire is flat, too!" I'm sure they have to be messing with us, and am unconvinced for a few minutes, until getting out and seeing that the van's front wheel is also deader than a doornail.

Christy's car-- well, technically her husband's car. Also disabled. In the same spot on the May Ranch. Double awesome.

5:30pm: After much searching, it is determined that there is no spare in the Sienna. Anywhere. Spares in other cars are not the proper size. Christy is certain that her husband said the tires on it are run-flat tires, and other people say if that's the case, she should be able to drive on them without completely wrecking the wheel. At least far enough to get us off the May Ranch. Oh, please just let us get off the May Ranch.

5:40pm: We pile back into the vehicles and very very slowly make our way toward the southern edge of the May Ranch property. Four vehicles creeping down the road past his forbidden ranch. I'm sure that didn't make Frank paranoid in the least. Having finally gotten cell reception, Tyler in the front seat is on the phone with AAA for Christy as she maneuvers the disabled vehicle down the dirt road.

5:48pm: A Long-Billed Curlew is spotted off to the right. These are the birds that the CFO group had stopped for on the May Ranch (though we are not stopping again!!), and are apparently a really rare sighting in Colorado. Over the next moment or two a total of five of the crazy-looking, long-billed birds appear and soon are flying together in a mesmerizing dusk dance off to the left of the vehicles (a classmate today described them as "the birds of the apocalypse," given their timing, setting, and our situation). Christy had walkie-talkied the sighting to the group as soon as they appeared (while meanwhile still on the phone, I believe with her husband, not AAA this time), and after we'd passed them, asked those of us in her van "so, did you figure out what kind of Curlews those were?" before we reminded her she should probably get back to her phone conversation with her husband. Ever the birder, and the teacher. Meanwhile, while inquiring of Keith (her husband, who was back at camp with the two adorable children) why on earth he didn't have a spare in the van, he replied that he "has another system" for dealing with flats. (We were all just dying to know what that could have been...)

Not a clear picture of a flying Long-Billed Curlew. But hey, it was taken from the other side of a (slowly) moving car at dusk on a dusty dirt road. To see what they actually look like, click the link above. Or utilize the Google.

6:00pm: We edge past the boundary to the May Ranch, with great (though not 100%) relief. The sign up above was taken at that point, after we'd just crossed over to slightly less hostile territory. The van's front wheel is by now, however, completely shredded, and the smell of burnt rubber is thick in the air. So much for run-flats.

6:00-6:10pm: Still talking with AAA, and the tow company-- which, mind you, has to send a truck all the way from Trinidad, an hour and a half distant. There is much discussion over whether some cars should be sent ahead, and attempts to confirm with the tow truck driver whether the van could be left unattended or not. Christy gets in touch with Steve, and asks for info on the next neighbors, before we send anyone to go ask for assistance. Matt heads up the road towards the next house, maybe a quarter mile away. He is met by two pre-teens who have come to investigate. Reportedly, they make some joke about being stranded in the middle of nowhere and The Hills Have Eyes. Matt said it was funny at the time, but having not witnessed it in person and having just narrowly escaped the boundaries of the May Ranch, it sounded a little too in-context to me. Matt drives back up to their house and reports back that their dad is not home, and they were trying to get ahold of him to get permission for Matt and Christy to wait there (out of the storm) while waiting for the tow truck to arrive. They couldn't get ahold of him, but apparently were willing to let them wait there, anyway. Christy nixed that notion, and I agreed. Who wanted to be the random strangers hanging out with his children when Mr. Jackson arrived home?

Frank D. May, is that you??

6:12pm: A vehicle approaches down the road, through the rain that has now started. Fearing it is Frank D. May, my initial reaction is to duck. The vehicle appears to pull up just in front of Gabriel's car, and we in the van are busily discussing how creepy it is, and if the person wanted to help they would be pulling up next to Gabriel's window to talk, or getting out of their car. Unbeknownst to us, the vehicle was in line with Sandy's car, talking to those folks. After he pulls up to the van, we see it is the sheriff. He seems a little twitchy, confirms that we have a tow truck on the way, and when Christy asks if the van is ok there, he pointedly eyes the May Ranch sign and cattleguard, and tells us yes, we are ok, here. Christy mentions that the other vehicle had a giant spike through the sidewall, and that hers went flat in the exact same spot, about 5 miles back up the road. The sheriff asks "like, a spike strip?" which seems an odd question to ask unless you are familiar with the crazy landowner whose land the road runs through, then says he has other business to attend to, turns around and heads off into the rain.

6:15pm or sometime thereafter: We strategize how to get everyone back. The tow truck driver had said he could only take two. We figure out how many people we can fit into to the other vehicles yet, and it works out, leaving two to ride in the tow truck. Initially, the discussion had been that Matt was going to stay with Christy, and the rest of us would head back to grab dinner in Trinidad (it was already too late to try and do our normal dinner in camp, as we were already all hours late for our planned return) and on to camp. I head for Matt's truck, which is the farthest up in the line, being nice, as I gather my gear and run down the road through the rain and lightning (why they didn't all pull back closer for us, I don't know). Soon after, the other two cars are sent on ahead. Christy determines that she thinks the tow truck driver may be drunk and isn't comfortable riding with him. The truck stays, as we'll be piling in everyone who remains-- four of us in the backseat.
At some point during this waiting game (time unknown) a pickup pulled past us, containing a smiling elderly man in a cap, and a few generations of the family men. The Jacksons, complete with the previously-mentioned preteen son. They attempted to help get the tire off Christy's van, and thought they might have a tire up at their place that would fit her car (as it turned out, it didn't). The 12-ish boy came up to the truck and asked Matt, a former Marine, if he knew his brother (or cousin-- I don't entirely remember). Apparently they'd previously gotten in a conversation about how Matt was in the Marines, sparked by the camo hat the kid was wearing, and the kid had called his brother (or cousin) to find out if he knew Matt, which apparently the guy claimed to, though Matt didn't appear to know him. While the other cars were heading out they walkie-talkied back to find out if there were any turns they needed to know about on the way out. The boy gave a lengthy and rapid description of the various houses, mailboxes and windmills that marked the route back to 160, which basically boiled down to "it's really easy." While the Jacksons were down there trying to help (and shortly after, had been joined by a truck full of the Jackson family females) the sheriff truck returned and headed down there. We in Matt's truck didn't know all this at the time, but apparently the sheriff (whose name was Luke, for the record), asked to speak to one of the younger adult Jackson men, and then arrested him. Apparently without missing a beat, the older gentleman asked if there was going to be a bond, and continued loosening lugnuts without interruption. Cool people.

6:40pm: Christy reports that the tow truck driver is supposedly 20 minutes away. And so, we wait. After the rains stop, the lightning continues in the distance, as sunset creeps nearer. It is super windy, so we venture out of the vehicles (which are parked a bit away from each other at this point) only to attempt to get updates on when the tow truck might possibly ever be arriving, some people to smoke, one person to pee in front of the truck (seriously. No bushes. And it was determined that the front of the truck is high enough that you can't see down over it. That's an important detail to remember for later, actually) and of course to take a few pictures.

7:53pm. The rain has stopped. The sun has peeked out under the clouds. Because it's heading down. And we're still mere yards from the May Ranch. Still how horror movies start. (Ooh, but can you see in this picture what I hadn't quite noticed yet??)

7:56pm: A rainbow!! Maybe we're not all going to die, after all.

7:58pm: The other end!

6:59pm: Oh, oh... did I mention... it's a double rainbow?? :)

7:59pm: It just kept getting brighter. Seriously, the most vivid rainbow I have ever seen. (Oh, um... hopefully you have figure out by now, that the tow truck was most definitely not arriving in 20 minutes.

8:16pm: The sun is leaving us.

8:16pm: Just beautiful. Too bad the tow truck driver isn't here to see it.

8:20pm

8:21pm

8:23pm

8:24pm: Still waiting. (So close to the May Ranch.) That was a long 20 minutes, Mr. Tow Truck Driver Man... 

8:24pm: I try to take a picture of (the other) Christy and Adam as we hang out in the crazy wind, admiring the sunset and clouds. The flash inadvertently goes off, capturing the insane amount of dust we were being pelted with. Possible one of the coolest pictures of the trip.

8:25pm

8:29pm: Yes, that's the tow truck! Charlie arrived. At last. He drove past us in the truck, down to where the van was, and then proceeded to back... very, verrrrry slowly... like, 5mph slowly... down the road to that next house, to turn around in the driveway. This is him backing very, verrrrry slowly back up the road to hook up the van. Meanwhile, I am waiting for him to get past, having decided that once he is out of the way, I want to pee in front of the truck before it gets dark, and before we start the at-least-hour-and-a-half trip the rest of the way back to Trinidad. Oh, and Charlie said he'd gotten stuck in some mud, that's why it took him like 3 hours to arrive. (Don't tow trucks tow other vehicles out of the mud?)

8:45pm: As soon as the tow truck backs past us, I tell Jessica (who is in the driver's seat) "hey, don't run me over, I'm going to pee!" and proceed to move around the front of the truck. While crouched in front of the truck trying not to pee all over myself and my pants in still-insane winds, the headlights go on. A moment later, the engine goes on. Unconcerned, I figure they're just messing with me.

8:46pm: As I come back around the side of the truck, Jessica looks horrified and exclaims "I am so sorry!" while Matt assures me he wouldn't have let her kill me. Apparently she didn't actually realize I was down there (though, this confirms the in-front-of-truck privacy assertions mentioned earlier). At the time I didn't realize she was actually about to run me over with a ginormous truck, so I hadn't been fearful for my life, and now just found it hilarious and a priceless inclusion in the adventure of this day. (The next morning when I saw Jessica at breakfast she came up to me and sheepishly apologized again, "I'm sorry I tried to kill you!!" Poor girl.)

10:25pm: The six of us crammed into Matt's truck get back to Trinidad. We never did figure out what mud supposedly held Charlie up for so many hours. We are so tired (having become accustomed to being solidly in bed by this time, what with our super-early mornings and all), more than a little cranky, and very hungry. Not wanting to have to resort to trail mix for our dinner, and way too late to fix food after we get back (the other cars got to stop for Mexican, since they had actually returned at a reasonably reasonable hour), we tried to find someone to put food in front of us in Trinidad. Very, very little is open in Trinidad past 10pm on a weekday. Not Safeway. Not Wendy's. But Sonic. Yes, Sonic is open at that hour. I got the kids meal, much to the entire car's delight when the employee repeated back our order as including a "Wacky Pack," and when they handed me my juice box. But hey, I got a prize, and that sidewalk chalk kept the kids entertained for a little while the next day. (I'd actually already established my kiddie-food-eating camping habits throughout the week, what with my daily Peter Rabbit pouch and frequent appearance of animal crackers in my lunch. Even had there been any other vegetarian options, I'd have felt like I was disappointing my audience had I not gotten the kids' meal.)

10:40pm: We arrive back at camp. I make my way to my tent, sans headlamp or flashlight (we were supposed to return around 4, and make it to the Trinidad Aquatic Center pool. Which I'd been to on Monday evening. Which was the last time I was anything approaching clean). Amidst flashes of lightning which left me blinded afterwards. My cell phone did nothing to help light my way among all that. To my tent right near the field where the coyotes liked to yip and howl on nights when the wind and rain weren't too crazy. (And do NOT get me started on the wind, here. That's a whole 'nother bucket of worms.)

And so concluded the craziest adventure of a day. Who know that seeing a mountain lion tearing after an antelope was not necessarily going to be the clear winner for greatest adventure of the day?!