was
glad for the seatbelt that kept her from sliding forward off the seat. The angle
had been sharp, but it was only fifteen minutes before the trail bottomed out
into a shallow canyon.
Crossing the level terrain, Katie brought the truck to a
stop when she came to the edge of a small stream. The water was no more than thirty
feet across, but it was running swiftly and she couldn’t tell how deep it was.
Living in the desert it was an almost daily occurrence during monsoon season
that someone would try and drive across a flooded wash and wind up stranded and
on the news being winched up from the roof of their flooded vehicle by a
helicopter.
It was so common, in fact, that Arizona had passed what was
called the “stupid motorist” law. If you drove into a flooded wash and had to
be rescued, you would have to reimburse the cost of your rescue. Katie knew it
wouldn’t take much depth in the fast moving current to push the truck
downstream and was hesitant to risk the crossing.
Climbing down, she walked to the edge of the water, but
still couldn’t gauge its depth. She briefly considered wading out to test it,
but dismissed the idea. The streambed would be full of round, slippery rocks
and it wouldn’t take much for her feet to be washed out from under her. Katie
stared at the stream for almost a minute, trying to think what John would do.
With a smile at the thought of her husband she ran to the
back of the truck and dug out a length of sturdy rope. Securing one end of it
to the truck’s front bumper, she wrapped the other around her waist and
carefully stepped into the stream.
The water was shockingly cold when it seeped into her
leather boots, but she gritted her teeth and pushed on. Five feet from the
edge the water was just over the tops of her boots. The push of the current
was strong and Katie was having a hard time maintaining her footing, but she
pushed on. At the halfway mark the water was to the bottom of her knees and
every step she took she was forced further downstream. She started to go back,
but realized the water could still be deeper before the far edge.
Pushing on, Katie moved slowly and deliberately, careful to
stay balanced and not let her weight suddenly shift and send her plunging into
the stream. She walked until she was five feet from the far shore, the depth
of the water having receded back to the tops of her boots. Satisfied with her
exploration, she slowly turned and began making her way back to the truck.
Wading out of the stream she quickly untied the rope and
threw it back into the truck without taking the time to coil it. Shivering
from the time she’d had her feet and lower legs in the icy water she stood next
to the Ford and compared its clearance to where the deepest water had reached
to the bottom of her knees. The lowest part of the truck’s body was level with
the middle of her knees. Nothing other than the tires would be in the stream
for the water to push on.
Feeling more confident, Katie climbed back into the cab and
shifted into drive. Switching to four wheel low, she let the truck idle
forward into the water. It moved easily, the current pushing against the
wheels and splashing water into the air where it created a small rainbow.
Approaching the middle of the crossing, the truck began slipping sideways from
the force of the water against the tires, but Katie steered against the current
and gave the engine more gas.
The tires slipped some, the truck shifting sideways more,
but Katie kept the momentum on and moments later drove onto dry land. Stopping
long enough to shift back into four wheel high, she continued on and was soon
climbing the next ridge. She reached the top, crossed the crest and descended
into the next canyon without any further drama.
The trail was just starting to rise for the next climb when
the sat phone rang on the seat next to her. Stopping before leaving the canyon
floor, Katie answered the