Fall of the Wild

One wintry Saturday I decided to take a road trip for myself. The plan was to leave Riverton early and head south towards South Pass and then head northward to Bondurant and eventually to Jackson Hole.

Still somewhat of a newcomer to the Cowboy State I have made it a point to take pictures of anything and everything that caught my eye.

As I passed through a snowstorm as I headed north on 191 I stopped on the side of the road. I smelled sulfur. HOT SPRING!!

I wanted to take an image of it with the near zero degree air and the steam off of the geothermal event. I figured it would look really cool.

I spotted a small path that led down a steep angle. That should have been a warning. As I walked down I slipped. The steam from the area had coated the trail and being covered with fresh powder snow it had become "slicker than elk snot".

I fell hard on my right side and felt the sharp pain in my lower rib cage. I slid down the trail and came to a stop when I grabbed some saplings.

Oh great. Now what?

I managed to roll on my stomach and started to crawl upward and finally out of the hole I was in. Needless to say it did not tickle. This was the same side that I had broken-bruised -cracked three times in my life.

I was able to gain a full lungful at the altitude of 8000 feet or so and made it to the auto.

This situation made me really think.

Here I was all alone and really no one knew where I was. My old friends were 2200 miles to the east and I was in a "dead zone" so the cell phone was useless for communication.

I got into my auto and warmed up. Then headed northward a little sore from the whole experience.

After that I did think a little more about my solo trips into the wilds and take the adage," discretion is the better part of valor."