SODIUM Trilogy Part One

by Stephen Arseneault

  It felt good to have the load off my back. My ribs were feeling better. The others joined me as we sat around on the flat slab of granite, just taking in the beauty of where we were.

  As Bull sat, he began to tell a story about a Miwok Indian boy and his mountain lion spirit animal. It was a story his scoutmaster had told during his younger days. The lion had been summoned to save the boy and his village. It was said the lion would appear when the boy spread his hands in the water of a stream and called out the lion's name, "Minhafa."

  Everyone enjoyed the story and the rest. It was a needed break. On a lark, I knelt by the water, slowly spreading my hands out in a calming motion as I called out Minhafa's name. It brought a smile from Bull, chuckles from Kyle and head shakes and eyerolls from the girls. With my attempt at humor mostly successful, we foisted our packs and got back on the trail.

  As we continued our hike along the river, Bull turned back toward us to speak and suddenly put his arms out, stopping our progress. He pointed downstream from where we had come. We turned to look, and just down the river about seventy-five yards, up on a large rock overlooking where we had been, stood a large mountain lion.

  Chill bumps rose on my arms from the coincidence of the lion and Bull's story. I had a death grip on my bat even though the big cat was far away. I grew nervous thinking I would only have one swing at protecting myself. I had a sudden unnerving thought that my defensive weapon of choice might be less than useful.

  As quickly as Bull had stopped us, the mountain lion glanced our way for a moment and then casually turned and strode off into the woods in the other direction. We stood for five minutes looking back for any sign of its return. In another rush of thought, I came to the realization my seemingly secure place in the back of the group was not so secure. In a cowardly move, I stepped up and began talking to Allie to help secure my spot in the middle. It was not a moment I was proud of, but at the time it was who I was, always thinking of myself first.

  With the immediate threat diminished, we hiked for another hour before stopping to find a spot to set up a night’s camp. When we came to a shallow area of the river, we decided it was as good a place as any to cross. The footing was dicey and the water was frigid, but we managed our way to the other side without incident.

  Since evening was approaching and we were ready for a rest, we selected the site by the river for a camp. We found a flat area where we could tie lines between several trees to string up our tarps. Shortly after unpacking, a campfire was lit. Wet clothes from the crossing were hung up to dry.

  Bull pulled out a fly rod and was back at the water, attempting to stretch out the food we carried. The trout from base camp the night before had been delicious, and everyone was eager to have more.

  As Bull fished, Allie and Susi began to scout the surrounding area for small game. Allie was a crack shot and used Susi's High Standard .22. The small caliber would allow the bulk of the animal to be left for cooking if she happened to make a kill. Although with a handgun it would be a daunting task.

  Kyle and I had firewood duty and gathered more than was necessary to get us through the night. The temperatures during the day were reaching the upper sixties. At night they would drop to near freezing. The low humidity and our nylon sleeping bags would again make for a comfortable night’s sleep.

  Bull landed three large trout. Allie and Susi managed a pair of squirrels while gathering a sackful of gooseberries. Another fine meal was consumed that evening.

  The skies grew dark quickly. It was a moonless and cloudless night. A few feet away from the fire, the Milky Way was clearly visible. Our high altitude and ultradark skies would have made any astronomer giddy with excitement.

  We chatted around the fire for several hours before sliding into our sleeping bags. After the day’s journey, all except for me were fast asleep. Being a light sleeper, I could not shake the sight of the bear and the mountain lion from my head. Every little bump in the night had me sitting up and looking about.

  An hour after the others were fast asleep, the fatigue of the day finally took hold and I dozed off. It was just about midnight when my slumber was first disturbed. I awoke feeling something moving in my left palm. I felt around slowly for a flashlight with my free hand, fearing I would end up with a snakebite or scorpion sting.

  When I turned on the light and shone it on my hand, I froze in terror. A big, brown, hairy spider was sitting square in my palm. It took me several seconds to return from the panic of terror to reality. I let out a high-pitched squeal and shook the monster from my hand. Again the terror set in as I looked back at my hand and saw the thousand baby spiders that were left behind, scurrying in every direction.

  The others were now sitting up and reaching for their guns when I jumped up and ran over to the last few embers of the fire. I pushed my hand close to the heat in an attempt to drive the tiny nightmares away. My misguided attempt only made them scatter further and begin to move up my arm. For whatever reason, I was too overcome with fear to just brush them off with my other hand.

  I next ran to the river and dove into the frigid mountain water to wash them from my arm. The bitter cold did not deter me from getting rid of the tiny horrors. I splashed around, letting out numerous high-pitched screams for several minutes, before I emerged from the water, soaking wet and shivering.

  The others were all standing at the river’s edge with guns and flashlights drawn and puzzled looks on their faces. When I told them of the spider, they all howled with laughter. When I added in the thousand babies, Bull doubled over on the ground and began to cry as he laughed.

  Whenever Bull laughed, you could not help but want to join in, his laugh was infectious. So, I had a good laugh at my own expense while putting more wood on the fire. I desperately needed to warm my chilled body. It took another half hour before the camp was once again settled down and the adventurers were dozing off. By 2 a.m. my eyes were again too heavy to remain open. I drifted off into a blissful sleep.

  I wasn't sure how long after it was when I was awakened by a loud crack and a bright flash. Through my fuzzy, sleepy eyes I could make out what looked like the last of a shooting star dropping over the horizon to what seemed like only a few miles away. Little did I know that sight to be a harbinger of things to come. What we knew about the universe, was about to change.

  After looking around at the others, who somehow remained undisturbed, I sighed and pulled my sleeping bag tight up under my chin. I closed my eyes and soon returned to that blissful place beyond consciousness that we all call sleep.

  Dawn came early. By the time I opened my eyes, Bull and Allie were already up and catching breakfast. Kyle came over and frizzled my hair with his hand while telling me it was time to get up. I rolled over to shield the early light from my eyes in an attempt to catch those last few zzz's.

  After my roll, Kyle decided to have a little fun by telling me not to move because there was a spider on my sleeping bag. I knew it to not be true, but the thought of the night before had me wide awake. I got out of my bag and moved over to warm myself by the new morning campfire.

  Susi had packed a small tin of ground coffee that was brewing over the fire. It was a surprise to me, and as an avid coffee drinker I was salivating at the thought of a nice cup o’ joe. The coffee was black and harsh, heaven in a cup.

  By the time Bull and Allie returned with our morning feast of a jackrabbit and two more squirrels, I was ready to get at the day. The catch was skinned and gutted by the river and then staked out over the fire. Small game was plentiful in the Yosemite back-country, and it had not been a particularly harsh winter, so we hoped to not be luring in other hungry beasts.

  As we sat around the fire eating, I told the others of the bright flash from the night before. Kyle quipped that perhaps I was hallucinating after being mentally terrorized by the spider and its offspring. The more I talked about the event, the more it made me wonder.

  The loud crack and the flash had awakened me, but all I had seen was the
tail end of the streaking light. It struck me as funny that even as large and as close as it seemed to be, there was no noise or vibration from an impact. The others had passed it off as a shooting star, but for whatever reason, I could not agree.

  Chapter 3

  * * *

  We broke camp soon after breakfast and began our day’s hike to our first real landmark, Lake Eleanor. The nearby reservoir of Cherry Lake had just been dammed a year earlier, so we left it off the trails we had chosen. Lake Eleanor was 26,000 acres in size and provided both water and power to San Francisco. Since this was supposed to be a wilderness trip, we branched off early from Eleanor Creek to bypass the dam.

  It was mid-afternoon when we reached the southern edge of the lake. We broke for lunch and a brief rest and then quickly got back on the trail. The scenery from the edge of the lake was stunning.

  The pure blue sky reflected off the glassy, motionless water. You felt as though you could pick up a flat rock and skip it all the way to the other side, nearly a quarter of a mile away. The wildlife was plentiful along the lake, as we startled many jackrabbits and spotted many hawks. Several wild turkeys were seen scurrying in and out of the brush.

  The woods were bountiful in 1957, and on our second encounter with a turkey, Allie bagged a ten-pounder, again making use of Susi's .22. The unlucky fowl was plucked, cleaned, and packed away for dinner later that evening.

  We spotted a red fox, which Bull looked up in his Animals of Yosemite book. The book said the fox had likely been hunted to extinction and had not been seen since the 1920s, but there it was, quickly scampering out of sight before Susi could snap a picture. The official rediscovery of the Nevada red fox would have to be left for another day.

  As the hike continued, we reached a sandy beach where Frog Creek would lead us up to Laurel Lake. Once at Laurel Lake, we would make camp for the evening. The terrain that day had not been difficult, but it had been a long hike, and we were all eager to sink our teeth into the turkey.

  After a short break we again donned our packs and continued our trek. Our progress came to a sudden stop as Bull held out his hand. A dead rabbit lay butchered on a nearby rock. It had been neatly opened up with its innards removed.

  I wasn't squeamish, but I had to look away. Dead animals meant something or someone was out there killing them. And from the looks of the scene, it wasn't for food. After several minutes of discussion and with nothing more to see, we got back on the trail. I again assumed my position in the middle.

  When we reached Laurel Lake, Allie dressed the bird for the fire while Bull and Kyle had their go at fishing. We ate well that evening and sat around the campfire afterward, talking about the day’s rewards. It had been a good day and I was no longer regretting having come along. As darkness once again fell and the fire began to die down, we each made our way into our sleeping bags under the tarps.

  In a continued cowardly move, I had managed to position my bag between the two couples. If some animal was going to invade our campsite, I did not want to be the unfortunate person it attacked first. I was still unable to fall asleep as easily as the others and lay awake thinking about where we were and what we had seen that day. The dissected animal clung to my conscious thoughts.

  It was then when I got an urge to answer nature’s call. I would have to go to the edge of the woods by myself in order to drain my now-ready-to-burst bladder. I cursed myself for not having gone when everyone was up and the campfire was still going strong, but nature had a way of not cooperating when the time was most convenient. I slid out of my bag, picked up my bat, and walked into the edge of the dark, sinister wood nearby.

  I leaned the bat against a tree and began to relieve myself. I was startled when I heard a rustling sound off to my left. I peered into the dark wood while attempting to hurry as fear began to get the better of me. In my state of nervousness, I could not seem to finish my pee as the darkness appeared to creep ever closer.

  It was then when I had to halt my attempt to placate my urge. There in the forest were two deep-red, glowing eyes that were looking in my direction from about forty yards away. The red, glowing eyes then turned into brighter fine points and narrowed as if focusing on me directly. My mind raced back to the story Bull had told earlier about the strange lights and the hiker who had claimed to have been watched by a demon.

  I reached for my bat and knocked it over. I then fumbled on the ground in the darkness trying to find it without taking my eyes off the threat. When I finally had my grip of the handle, I jumped to my feet and sprinted back into camp.

  I quietly awakened Bull and the others and began to tell of what I had seen. Kyle immediately pointed out that my fly was open. His next action was to laugh and again tease me about my affair with the spider the night before. But I persisted in my story, so Bull and Kyle got their handguns and followed me to where I had seen the red, demon eyes.

  We stood for ten minutes, looking and listening, but nothing moved or made a sound. When Kyle had seen enough, he turned with a huff and made his way back to the tarps. Bull stood with me for another few minutes, while I swore to him I had seen two red eyes. I described how I felt they had focused and stared directly at me.

  Bull gave me the benefit of the doubt. He knew from my reaction I had indeed seen something. Sometimes an animal’s eyes in the wood can reflect light and appear to glow, but that would only happen if a light was being shone in their direction. There were no lights around other than the dull embers of the fire. I had not used a flashlight. I had come to relieve myself only carrying my bat.

  I felt bad for waking the others and then not having anything to see, but I was happy the eyes were gone. I told Bull we may as well go back and come out to look in the morning. He agreed and sent me toward the tarps, while he stayed to take a break of his own. I was almost back by the smoldering campfire when five loud shots rang out, striking fear into my heart.

  The girls were instantly up with their guns at the ready. They and Kyle hustled over to where Bull was standing. As I watched I realized I was alone in the camp with only my bat. I made haste to join the others.

  As I approached, Bull had one arm out with his hand facing back at us, telling us to be still. He then brought one finger up to his mouth to attain our silence. We all listened intently and heard nothing but the constant chirp of crickets.

  Another five minutes of peering into the dark woods passed, before we moved back to the tarps. We sat up for several hours discussing what had happened. Bull had seen the red, demon eyes too. He said they had appeared to be moving slowly toward him, so he had drawn his .45 cal and fired off the five shots we had heard.

  He thought one of those five rounds may have hit its target, as whatever it was had jerked quickly. It then let out a hiss and turned away. He could barely make out the sound of it sprinting off through the woods. We re-lit the fire and decided two of us would stay up and keep an eye out for the intruder. It was going to be a long night.

  Bull and Allie would go first, while Kyle and I would take the early morning watch. I was worried it would be difficult for me to get to sleep, but the fatigue of the day soon took its toll. With my friends at the watch, I quickly dozed off into slumberland.

  It was 3 a.m. when Bull awakened us for our monitoring duty. As we sat by the fire peering off into the woods, I again told Kyle of the strange light and noise I had seen the night before. I told him I had trouble with believing it to have been a shooting star, because it had appeared to slow slightly before dropping behind the ridge. And I had expected a vibration or at least some faint noise of an impact, but had not heard nor felt any.

  By firelight, we looked through Bull's manual of Yosemite animals and found no reference to red, glowing eyes. Again I was to the point of fondly thinking about my boring insurance job. I thought about how good the warmth, comfort, and security of my own bed would feel. My level of enjoyment over taking the trip was turning out to be a roller-coaster of emotion. In my normal obsessive way, I began to believe I w
ould never be going home... home to the peace and security of Atlanta.

  When dawn finally came, the others were up and moving about the camp. Bull and I walked over for a quick look at the area where the eyes had been. Nothing of note was seen. We returned to eat.

  Grits and leftover turkey were had for breakfast. We then began packing up for our next hike. Before we left, it was decided we would again search the woods.

  For half an hour we walked, looking for any sign of whoever or whatever had been out there. Bull could find no trace of animal tracks, and we were just about to give up when Allie noticed a small spot of liquid on top of a boulder. She had found what looked like several drops of an oily substance.

  On the ground just behind the boulder was a large bare area. It appeared as though something had been poured over it, dissolving all the vegetation, sticks, leaves, and other organics, leaving a bare circle of nothing but dirt and rock.

  The circle would not have drawn our attention had it not been almost perfect. With nothing other than the anomaly to look at, we turned our attention back to the liquid. Bull smelled it and remarked it had an oily smell. He then touched it and rubbed it between two fingertips. He reasoned it was definitely a type of lubricant and it had not come from an animal.

  There was someone else in the woods with us, and we were going to have to keep a close watch out for them. I hoped it was just some other nosy hikers, but the fact that one of them, or at least something they had, had been hit by a .45 cal round, had me edgy and wishing I had a gun of my own. We continued our search for several minutes and then made our way back to the packs.

  The fire was soaked with water from the lake to make certain we would not start a disaster. You would not want to be trapped in the woodsy, dry back-country with a wildfire chasing you. With a little bad luck and the wind blowing in the wrong direction, you could easily be overtaken by flames or smoke. For hikers, a wildfire was an extremely dangerous event.