It was pouring rain as we left home, and I knew that driving into the Sierra Nevada during a winter storm would entail some risk. After all, look what happened to the Donner party. So, just in case we were to get stranded in the mountains, I took the precaution of packing my snowshoes, as well as a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. A cynic might speculate that bringing snowshoes to Yosemite was part of a plan to avoid the cooking classes, but I assure you that my motives were as pure as the driven snow. As it happened, the snowplows did their job, and the road to Yosemite was clear all the way.
Without wasting any time to mince an onion or par-boil a potato, I headed straight over to the ranger station, where I found my good friend Ranger Dick. “Dick,” I said, “there might be some cooks lost out there in the storm. Perhaps we ought to go out and search for them.”
“We usually wait for a report to come in before launching a search and rescue,’’ replied Dick.
“We don’t have time to wait,” I implored. “The cooking class will be starting soon, and if we don’t start searching right away, somebody might miss class.”
Being a trained observer, Dick quickly spotted my distress. “OK. I’ll go out on patrol and see if anybody’s in trouble.”
“Not you, Dick; BOTH of us. WE should go out on patrol – TOGETHER,” I pleaded in my most helpful tone. “Good citizens always assist the authorities in desperate times. Look, I just happen to have my snowshoes with me. You lead the way, and I’ll follow. Janet will forgive my missing class for an emergency patrol.”
|The search begins|
|Nobody at the creek|
|Reflecting on the ridge|
“A very nice couple,” responded Dick. “Too bad about your missing the cooking class.”
“Yeah, too bad. Would you like half of my peanut butter sandwich?”
© 2011 Ken Klug