“Seeing that stoked my hope,” Dad quietly said.
Suddenly I heard Caleb’s voice bellow out, “They’re here?”
“We’re here, Dad!” Marshall called as he jogged toward the direction of his dad’s voice. When they met, Caleb gripped Marshall, who stood six inches shorter than his dad’s tall frame, into a hug that looked like it would have forced all the air of Marshall’s lungs. Marshall ducked his head into his dad’s chest and squeezed his eyes shut. I walked to Dad, who was finishing up with the first pizza. Since he could only make one pizza at a time, he began to cut the finished one into five pieces which he passed out to us. I was hungry enough to swallow my slice whole, but I knew that eating slowly at first would help us to not get sick. Obviously I wasn’t the only one this hungry. I glanced around and saw that the boys had pretty much swallowed their slices in a bite. Okay then. I dove in, and wow, it tasted good. All three bites.
Squatted by his stove, Dad squeezed another serving of crust batter out of a bag onto the round six-inch pan above the flame. He beamed up at me and wrapped an arm around my knees. I looked up and watched Sawyer meet his dad and join the embrace. Seeing their reunion sparked my emotions again, and I collapsed into my dad’s strong arms. “Honey, honey, we’re together now. And we’ll be with your mom within two hours. Her group and Julia’s group are hiking to us right now. Marlee, honey, I’m here,” Dad hushed me. Hearing his voice after the past two days was the best music ever. He quickly spread sauce and cheese on the crust and set the lid on the pan.
A few minutes later he lifted the lid and slid his spatula under the crust, lifting the pizza onto a plate. He cut it and stood to distribute more pieces of pizza to each of us kids. We sat in a circle on the trail, Caleb asked a quick blessing (better late than never), and we continued to eat like hungry bears in the spring. Meanwhile Caleb prepared electrolyte-laden water bottles for us, which we gulped down easily.
Eric tentatively asked if we felt ready to hike the remaining tenth of a mile to the ranger station to meet our moms. We all nodded and Ellie piped, “This should be nothing now that we ate!”
Everybody laughed, and Dad, Caleb, Eric and one of the other rescuers each rushed to a corner to lift Lydie with ease. Somehow seeing our rescuers, even Dad and Caleb, ready to carry Lydie the remainder of the distance made me feel weird. It just wasn’t right. As if echoing my thoughts, Sawyer suddenly commanded, “Wait!” Everyone stopped. Sawyer went on, “We should carry Lydie on the homestretch. We evacuated her this far, let’s finish strong – finish as the group we started.”
Dad and Caleb looked at us kids. Marshall, Ellie, Sawyer and I exchanged looks. Sure it would be easier to accept their help, but I agreed with Sawyer. Lydie cheerily voiced, “I’d offer to walk myself, but–”
“You will be carried, young lady,” the main medic announced. Lydie giggled and nodded.
“I’m in,” Marshall announced.
Ellie stepped toward Lydie’s stretcher, “I agree.” Dad and Caleb looked surprised that Ellie agreed with Sawyer, and they began looking back and forth between Sawyer and Ellie, who blushed. She rolled her eyes and quickly stammered, “This doesn’t mean you’re right, Sawyer. It just means that, whatever, I’m in, too.”
Sawyer grinned at Ellie, and I returned to my corner of the stretcher. Dad and Caleb backed up and agreed, even though they were clearly itching to help. The other six men also allowed us to carry her, although the lead wilderness medic looked concerned.
“That’s the spirit, boys!” Caleb cheered his sons. “And girls!” he added with a grin at Ellie and me. As we once again found our rhythm, I felt at ease. By now, my shoulders were numb to the pressure of the rope, and my legs were accustomed to the weight. Not appreciative of the weight, but used to it. It was not comfortable; but somehow, just knowing we were rescued and so close allowed me to ignore the physical discomforts and enjoy what we five kids had accomplished out in the wild mountains.
The sun warmed my face, and I could hear Dad’s voice just a few feet behind me. Such simple, ordinary parts of life seemed so nurturing in light of the previous two days. I wondered why I had never before taken such delight in Dad’s voice – or fully noticed how the sun makes nature glow. This day had turned out to be extra beautiful, especially when I viewed it through a rejuvenated perspective.
13
I sank into Mom’s loving embrace and decided to memorize the moment and remember it forever. I have a jar at home where I keep slips of paper with special memories written. This moment, and the moment when I hugged Dad, would for sure be going in the jar. So would the sight of the peak that we almost made it to as it shone in the moonlight and the shooting star!
Mom was so overjoyed and overwhelmed with two days’ worth of emotions that she was speechless. Her hug and tears on my hair said enough. After our grand reunion, Lydie was taken to the closest clinic where the doctor confirmed that there was a break in one of the bones of her lower left leg. He praised the splint and evacuation, and said that she could have needed surgery. However, since her leg had been kept so stable, the doctor was able to reset her leg in the office, and he was confident it would heal well. I’d say that was yet another miracle, without a doubt!
After waiting at the clinic a couple hours for observation, all nine of us went to a restaurant. We weren’t showered or even in clean clothes, but we eagerly sat down at the local Mexican restaurant, per Marshall’s pleas, as if we were royalty.
Lydie’s crutches were propped against the wall, we were all in our hiking boots, and our sweat-matted hair was pretty messy. Apparently we stood out, and either we spoke loudly or our story had gained some local fame, because before our food arrived a newspaper reporter politely asked if he could interview us for the local paper.
Sawyer and Ellie did most of the talking to the journalist. Mom put one arm around Lydie and her other arm around me and whispered how grateful she was to have us back. Marshall had asked the waitress if he could keep looking at a menu even after we ordered. He needed inspiration to dream, he had said. Everyone laughed, but we kids laughed the hardest about his love for Mexican food.
“Dad,” he said, completely oblivious to the journalist, “we should order some fried ice cream.”
I giggled, and Caleb looked bemused. Shaking his head, he lightly flicked Marshall’s menu, which made Marshall look up with a start.
“Marshall,” Caleb said with a tone that suggested he was annoyed with his son’s standoffish behavior. “Yesterday at this time we thought you might be gone. Really gone. Dead. We were in shock and devastated.” He paused, letting his words sink in.
Marshall cautiously held his dad’s gaze, and slowly nodded. Caleb continued, “I’m thrilled beyond belief that all nine of us are sitting at this table safe and healthy. I’m glad that your appetite is raging. I’m happy to feed you all night. Please pay your mom and me some attention, Marshall. Put the menu down and mentally check in to the present. You know, be here. For real.”
Marshall blushed and lowered his gaze. “When you put it that way, I guess I have been pretty absent-minded,” he admitted. “I guess I didn’t think about how you and mom felt when we were gone. Since I knew we were safe and together, and Lydie’s condition was stable, I was thankful for how we fared, but I didn’t consider what you all thought based on the satellite messenger. Sorry, Dad.” Caleb smiled.
“One more thing,” Marshall added and Caleb gave a warm expression, summoning the usually-quiet Marshall to keep talking. “I was extremely embarrassed to have lost my pack. Just ask Marlee,” he gestured at me, and I gave a knowing nod, remembering our conversation when he and I tried to reach the ranger station on our own. “When I unbuckled my pack, it was for survival. I was terrified and in that instant with the wave of white crashing toward me, I wasn’t sure I had a chance at all. So I dumped my pack.” Marshall looked down, still ashamed. A moment of silence, and he went on, “Then after it roared past, I didn’t see anyone else in the group. I thought I was all alone without a pack, without my brother, without my parents, and without any pretty girls to keep me company.”
Everybody was surprised to hear Marshall talk about girls, but we appreciated the comic relief as we listened to Marshall’s emotional memory.
“This whole time, I’ve felt like a failure. Everybody else survived with their packs on their backs. If I’d kept it on, you wouldn’t have had to think we were still buried. We would have had food. You would have found us way sooner.” Marshall actually had a tear threatening to roll out of his eye. Our moms were already crying.
Caleb walked over to Marshall and put an arm around his shoulders as he squatted to his eye level. “Marshall, look at me.” Marshall met his dad’s eye contact. “Playing the ‘what-if’ game is an endless cycle that will only make you second-guess every decision. Your pack is replaceable. You made it out alive and unharmed, and that is what matters. Your backpack is gone, but you’re here. It is a miracle you all survived.” Marshall still looked glum. “Where is your pack now, Marsh?” Caleb questioned.
“Lost out in the snow. All that valuable gear is gone. Including your expensive satellite messenger,” Marshall annoyingly answered.
Caleb nodded, “And that is exactly where you could be too. You know, often we need to make split-second decisions. Frankly, whether or not to keep a traditional backpack on in an avalanche is debatable. Some say it’ll protect your body, and that large debris rises to the surface. Others say a backpack will drag you down deeper into the snow. Obviously I’m not talking about avalanche airbag packs here. We don’t always know what the best decision is. I’d say this time, since your pack is gone and you’re here, you made the right decision.” At that, Caleb gripped Marshall in a firm hug and cried softly into his son’s hair. The emotions of the moment made me lean toward my mom and rest my head on her shoulder. She tightened her hold on my shoulders.
By now, the journalist paused his interview with Sawyer and Ellie. For a second he looked like he was tempted to turn his voice recorder toward Marshall, but he apparently decided that this part of the rescue was too emotional, too raw, too real to be in the headlines, and he clicked off the recorder on his phone and slipped it in his pocket.
After another minute, Caleb and Marshall composed themselves. The journalist shook each of our hands, asked us our names and ages and hometowns, took down a few more notes, and excused himself.
We were silent for a moment, each simply exchanging glances, smiling gratefully at each other. Lydie broke the silence, as usual. “Mr. and Mrs. Miles,” she addressed Caleb and Julia. “Yes, dear?” Julia smiled at Lydie.
“How often does your family eat Mexican food?” Lydie innocently asked. Sawyer, Marshall, Ellie and I burst into laughter, but Lydie maintained a neutral expression. Dad and Mom gave me a questioning look, and I playfully rolled my eyes in response.
Caleb and Julia looked back and forth between the five of us with curious eyes, and finally, Julia cleared her throat, shrugged, and answered, “Maybe once every month or so we make tacos or enchiladas for supper. Why do you ask, Lydie?”
“Oh, just curious,” Lydie said, again in that goofy innocent voice. “It was a good choice to take us to this restaurant. Some of my memories from the last two days are a bit hazy, but I vividly recall lots of talk about Mexican food.”
Finally Marshall spoke up, “Nobody disagreed with me that a table-full of Mexican food would have been splendid up on that trail!”
“Any food would have been splendid,” Lydie countered with a tease in her voice. Now our parents were laughing, too. The waitress delivered our meals just then, and I laughed when she set not one, not two, but three plates in front of Marshall. When he noticed our stares, he shrugged and said, “I’m hungry.”
Warm food never tasted so good, although the increasing busyness of the restaurant began to bother me. I was oh-so thankful to be back with our families, but I looked forward to being back in nature. After an hour of slightly-heated discussion, it was finally agreed upon that we could camp tonight. My parents thought that with Lydie’s broken leg, we should rent a hotel room for our last night in Colorado before beginning the drive home tomorrow. Lydie begged to camp and rattled off umpteen reasons why we should not even consider a hotel.
