August
29, 2010
This Story is About How to Experience One of Your Best Days… While Having A Really Bad One
By Jerry
Smith
With trails like Radical Hill, Webster Pass, Red
Cone, and others in mind, Mike Click and I had planned to go on the Grand Mesa Jeep Club trip to
Frisco, Colorado for several weeks.
The club trip was scheduled for
August 28 & 29, 2010 - (Sat, Sun). We planned to add some extra days
because it is a long way from Grand Junction to the Frisco/ Silverthorn area.
We figured to be able to do Radical Hill, Webster
Pass, and Red Cone on the first day.
Friday, August 27th, we met
a little before our scheduled 8AM time and jumped on I-70 eastbound with
thoughts of doing some Jeeping that afternoon and meeting with whomever showed
up for the weekend the next morning.
Radical Hill
After a quick lunch and a fuel stop in Frisco, we
headed for Montezuma. From there we planned to go over Radical Hill and
Webster Pass and return by way of 12,801 ft. Red Cone Mountain.
looking at Radical Hill over Webster Pass
Montezuma is one of those small, sleepy Colorado
mountain towns that you drive through with little memory of having done
so. You can find it mentioned in some Colorado “Ghost Town” type books. The Ghosts were not out haunting… Friday
being their day of rest.
Lead and silver
mining were responsible for Montezuma’s beginnings in about 1865. Most of
the major buildings have succumbed to fires over the years, but some still
remain from that time.
An odd shaped house in Montezuma
They have a 20 MPH speed limit that is quite
unnecessary as the road through town is so full of deep potholes, you can’t do
the speed limit without some serious undercarriage damage.
It is my guess that the locals cultivate those potholes
to keep the dust down… and trust me, it definitely works.
A short way out of town, we were on FR5 (Forest
Road #5) that takes you up the beautiful Deer Creek and up to the top of
Radical Hill. You have a grand look at
the Webster Pass road across the valley with Red Cone reaching skyward above
it. This view is worth the trip alone!
From Goat to “Goat Whisperer”
Breaking over the ridge and dropping down Radical
Hill is typical of many high mountain roads. Steep, rocky, and slow is
the word.
Mike was leading the way down Radical Hill and made
his way out of sight around the first switchback. As I rounded that
switchback, the view of Mike going down the road below was definitely a “Kodak
Moment”.
I steered up on the bank above the road like
I’ve done hundreds of times to be able to take a picture out the driver’s side
window. It was a steep bank, but looked like many I’ve climbed for this
purpose.
As I reached across the passenger seat to get one
of my cameras, I may have eased-up on the brake pedal or the bank gave way
because as I started sitting up to take a picture, I noticed the view had
changed. Radical Hill had disappeared.
What should have been a view of Mike going down
Radical Hill out of the driver’s side window was in reality of the road surface
coming into an extreme close-up.
How to become “the Goat”
Yep, I had just experienced my first rollover.
The really bad part was it happened without my participation until the very
last second. What a wasted experience! But “Radical Hill” had just
taken on a new meaning.
Happy Trails laying on Radical Hill
I do remember the thump and grind on the rocks and
the sound of the side window of the top exploding at about the time a load of
camera gear dumped all over me. Watching the outside mirror break off and get crushed was nauseating.
Shortly, I hear Mike asking if I am all right on the
CB. It took a few moments to gather up the situation mentally as I turned
off the ignition and began looking for the CB microphone, which was at my feet.
I told him “I have a situation here.” What I
didn’t know at the time was that my antennae had been broken off, so he
couldn’t hear me. I saw him turning around, so I knew he was aware of my
predicament.
Mike going down Radical Hill with Webster Pass in the distance and Red Cone above.
This was my second time climbing vertically out of
a Jeep passenger door window.
The first time was back in the ‘70s in my CJ5 when
I had slipped off a steep road bank. That time only required my Ramsey
winch to recover us from the ditch. This time, being above tree line,
there were no trees for a very long way from which to winch from.
The other disqualifier was the hydraulic driven
Mile Marker winch on the front would require the engine running to
operate. Running your engine while on your side isn’t recommended, so the
winch was just as handy as a rudder for a duck.
Mike had no winch “mounted”. His winch has
resided in his garage for years. Being downhill from me with no way to
pass made that a non-issue anyway. Any winching to set Happy Trails back
on her tires would have to come from above.
After some Radical Hill pictures, (yes, I had the
wherewithal to grab a camera on the way out) we assessed the situation.
Not good!
It was decided that I
would stay with Happy Trails on Radical Hill while Mike went down to the campground
where Dave McCollough should be. Dave has a Ramsey winch on his TJ.
Dave positioning for a rescue.
Now I had what I estimated would be about three
hours to think about this whole experience. One of the first sensations
turned out to be my right knee hurting. The longer I waited, the more it ached.
As we were well above tree line, sunburn, even
through the cloudy skies, was an issue to consider. Standing there
in a tee shirt, I looked for some shade to set in but found it in very short
supply at about 2:30 PM on Radical Hill.
Eventually, I found that if I stood on the front
driver side tire, I could have some shade and a great view of the surrounding
valley rim on the skyline. “Wow” is the only word that comes to mind.
This large high mountain half bowl above tree line
was really something to see. I had the
time, so began a study.
After a little while, one of the reasons for coming
up to this area came walking over the rim above Radical Hill.
A wild Mountain Goat in its habitat is something you
have to experience to understand the deeply spiritual feelings involved.
Watching this goat feed its way down the steep and
rocky mountain side about four hundred yards from me was a real
thrill. The experience got a little better when straight up hill near the
Radical Hill road, another goat and her kid began a stare down with me.
From Goat to “Goat Whisperer”
She stood on the skyline of the crest of Radical Hill for
about 45 minutes just measuring the danger I posed to her and her kid.
She would look at the first goat to see if any warnings were being sent.
Apparently none were, so she began coming down the steepest part of the Radical
Hill road toward me. This I found to be really strange behavior.
Just moments after she began coming down the road,
I heard footsteps behind me. Many thoughts ran through my mind.
Thoughts like… what
could be sneaking up on me? Is it friendly? Is it not
friendly?
This goats broken horn easily identified her.
Some of my new "friends"
In order not to scare "it", I made a very
slow turn of my head to see five more Mountain Goats staring at me from just a
few feet away. That explained why the other one was coming down the road.
Well, here I am, standing on the front tire of
my pride and joy laying on its side on Radical Hill, surrounded by wild
Mountain Goats closer than I ever dreamed possible, and my camera is on
the rear bumper… can this be happening?
Standing as still as possible, I watched as one of
the kids walked up to the rear tire while trying to figure me out. This
was too unreal. Wild animals don’t normally walk this close to you on an
exposed mountainside like this. There was nowhere to hide for hundreds of
yards.
Soon, the need to
take pictures outweighed the need to stay still, so I began a very slow move to
the back of the Jeep. Surprise! No mass panic on the part of the
goats. Yes, they did move off a few steps.
This is not the recommended way to check your suspension.
Now the next realization hit me. Mounted on
the only camera not in the Jeep was the super wide-angle lens. A 10mm to
22mm lens is for very close up picture taking. Long distance shots are
not very detailed normally. Bummer you might think.
As it turned out, the lens was a good choice.
These goats became almost family in the next hour or so. I actually began
identifying individuals and practically naming them.
I talked to them some and they began coming closer
and closer while doing what wild goats do.
Eating, coughing, sneezing,
bleating, and butting the kids away when they tried to suckle. (the nannies were weening the kids) This was
nature in all its glory.
The thought occurred to me, “what a John Denver
song this could have been if he had been here to experience this”.
During all this excitement, a cold front had moved
in over Radical Hill. Suddenly my tee shirt wasn’t very warm. As I
became more and more cold, my left hand found its way into my front pants pocket.
Shortly, one of the nannies cautiously walked up to me,
stretched out her nose to within about one inch from the hand in my pocket and
took a smell. What an unexpected thrill…. and a dilemma.
Let me tell you,
having a wild Mountain Goat that close is right up there with going directly to
heaven. Looking into her eyes that close was both a mind warping thrill
and a very scary time all in one package.
Lower Radical Hill and wild mountain goats
You see, just above those dark inquisitive and
nervous eyes are two long horns with sharp points that could leave a man with
either two serious bruises or very deep wounds depending on the animal’s
reaction.
The desire to pet her was overcome by the fear of
those horns. I didn’t even attempt a picture of this in fear of sparking
the wrong reaction.
Just a few minutes after this life altering
experience, another nanny walked by close enough for me to pluck a tuft of the
wool being shed from her back.
The thoughts of this experience were ranging from
“Awesome” to “how will anyone believe me when I tell them?”
Shortly, I see a man standing on the rim above
Radical Hill near where the first goat had been. He was nobody I knew,
but I could tell he didn’t believe what he was seeing.
After all, how many times do you see a Jeep lying
on its side in the middle of a mountain road surrounded by 17 wild Mountain
Goats?
Just minutes later, I
no longer had to wonder how my story would be accepted.
Mike’s Jeep broke over the top of Radical Hill
above with Dave a short way behind and an unknown guy on an ATV behind him.
As Mike got closer, some of the goats began slowly moving off, but some just
watched while chewing a bite of grass.
This was definitely a surreal experience for the
books. God was truly working over-time that day.
Next was the meeting to decide the best approach to
putting Happy Trails on its feet.
I have been the one doing the recovering of others
many, many times. From these experiences, I have learned to let others speak
their views of the situation before making a decision as to how to proceed.
You often gain a new perspective of a problem that
makes you re-evaluate your first impressions. Often too, the guy who is
in the tough spot is not the best one to make the final decision.
Dave lined up to take a pull on our first
thoughts. This proved to be a “no go”; Happy Trails had begun to roll up
when Dave’s Jeep started skidding toward it, so we had some more brainstorming.
Dave came up with a great plan that I had not
considered. We ran the winch cable to HT and then up to Mikes JK to
provide a new angle of pull and to take some of the strain off of Dave’s Jeep.
Dave’s idea worked perfectly. Soon HT was up
on her wheels and then dragged up the hill to a spot well off the Radical Hill
trail.
Some of the damages.
After confirming that the engine was “hydraulically
locked” with oil in the cylinders, Dave offered his help and some fluids he
carries to get us back to running condition.
As it was close to dark, Dave left for his camp
down beside the Dillon Reservoir and Mike and I set up camp for the night right
on the Radical Hill road.
The next morning, the sun was upon us before the
folks in Denver. At over 12,000 feet above sea level on the east side of
the mountain, you get to see the sun before many people over a hundred miles to
your east.
Goats need a place to sleep too.
I pulled off all the necessary hardware required to
remove the spark plugs to blow the oil out of the cylinders. Thinking we
had the job done, all the parts were replaced and another attempt to start it
was tried.
During all this activity, some of my new friends
came back for another close encounter. We had about ten of the Radical
Hill goats surrounding us while we worked on Happy Trails.
One fed on some grass about two steps from the
driver’s side door the whole time we were getting in and out and cranking the
engine. “Amazing” doesn’t quite say what I felt about this.
Still locked up… all the parts were removed and
replaced one more time before we heard the engine cough and puke a fog of thick blue
smoke. The smelly smoke was more than the goats could deal with and they moved
away. It was time to leave Radical Hill.
After breaking camp, we headed back up Radical Hill
toward Montezuma and met Dave and his wife Pam coming up Deer Creek. Pam
nicknamed me “Goat Whisperer”. After all the wonderful experiences, how
could I argue?
It didn’t occur to me at the time, but no one had
“razzed” me about the rollover. What a great bunch of people to not rub
it in.
With my now bum knee aching like that was its
purpose, I decided to set out the next couple of days of Jeeping. What a
bummer!
I had so looked forward to seeing some new trails
and this awesome Colorado high country, but having to brake and throttle with
my left foot wasn’t making this anything less than dangerous. One major
calamity seemed like enough for this trip.
After some discussion to the contrary, Mike finally
relented and stayed with Dave and Pam to run the hills for the next two
days. How I envied them!
After a very wind noisy, but uneventful trip home,
I unloaded Happy Trails so she could be sent in to have the dents and scratches
repaired. I am really looking forward to having a new driver’s side rear
view mirror.
Radical Hill will forever be branded in my
memory.
The Radical Hill goats will always outweigh that
memory.
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Happy Trails to you, and remember—when you come to
a fork in the road, take
it!
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