Montana part deux

The Wrong Mountain

So, this may come as a shock to many people, but probably less of a surprise to those within the first degree of familiarity with Ward - I’m kind of a dumbass. My dumbassedness stems from a defective consequence predictor. I just don’t consider outcomes as well as I should. Actually, that’s not true, I see them clearly, I just don’t give them much weight. I have great confidence in my ability to save myself from myself.

I woke up yesterday morning and wrote. The post yesterday was part of that, but I’m writing a lot of things I’m not posting. Anyway, I finished writing, shared the story, and decided to go walk up this mountain next to me. I was determined to leave my phone, but in a moment of responsible clarity, I decided to let some people know where I was going. I texted a friend the post about mom then I told her I was leaving my phone and going hiking. Then I texted my Uncle and told him I was going to go hike for a bit. “I know you think you’re a badass or something, but you’re a wussy (he said a different ‘-ussy’ word) compared to a bunch of shit in those woods. Don’t get eaten by a mountain lion.” Damn he knows me.

I started across a field, navigated some steeper terrain, and came across a fence. This was not some hurricane fence, or a tightly boarded up fence, or a tall fence, or an electric fence. It was three metal wires stapled to some old, half-rotten, wooden posts about every 10 feet. To me, it screamed, “Climb over me.” I listened. Whoops.

I start off across another field and look down to see a huge mound of poop. My initial thought was Yogi had a hell of a pick-a-nick basket. Probably ate the people with the picnic basket, too. But then as I kept walking (kind of a dumbass), I saw several more mounds and realized it was just cow dung. No cows were about, but the hundreds of mounds were not caused by an army of grizzlies. I felt better. Onward and upward.

Soon, I came to a dirt road that wrapped around the mountain. I take off on a jog and start heading up. The views are breath-takingly stunning and for a moment I regretted not having my phone. I keep climbing. At one point, I see a house through a thick copse of trees. I store that info in some far away piece of RAM in my mind and push on. The road curves again, and I see the house more clearly. An unmissable sign says, “Slow Down. Dogs run out into driveway.” Ok. Well, mountain lion, dog, bear, whatever, I have zero desire to be tasted, so I turn back. I head down and veer off the road and onto a spot with fewer trees. I start back up the mountain and make it about 20-30 yards when I think I hear a horn. I ignore it and walk a few more steps then definitely hear a car horn. I turn and see an old Jeep Wrangler bouncing through the brush towards me. I think, “Shit.”

The jeep pulls up feet from me and a 50ish year-old white guy looks out from the window. I note that his hands are not on the steering wheel. He looks at me hard. He’s pissed. I say out loud, “Uh-oh.”

“What are you doing here?” He must not have read the post from yesterday. I don’t know what I’m doing here.

“I was looking for the meth lab. Do I have the right mountain?” So, did I mention I’m kind of a dumbass?

Oddly, this comment passes right by him, and he says, “Who are you?” Again, I can’t see his hands. This guy has the feel of a pissed off, old white guy who spends his days doomsday prepping and getting aroused by old copies of Guns and Ammo magazine. The kind of guy who has fantasized about an interaction like this so he can shoot someone.

I decide to get serious about not getting shot. “My name is Ward Cochran. I’m vacationing here from South Carolina and staying at the RV at the bottom of the mountain. I’m an attorney and a dad and I’m just going for a hike. I’m sorry if this is your property.” I immediately think, “That was freaking dumb. People want to kill lawyers more than trespassers.” Maybe I should explain to him that I just studied for the bar exam and now I know that deadly force isn’t allowed to protect property.

“I don’t give a fuck who you are.” Ok, he probably won’t care about the deadly force thing.

“Yeah, neither does my ex-wife. Again, my apologies. I’ll head back down.”

He seems irritated at my joke. Good. I’m getting a little pissed, but I also clearly see the missing person case that’s never solved. I hear my Uncle and my brothers, “Yeah. There was a 50/50 chance he wasn’t going to make it back. He’s a bit of a dumbass.”

“Did you see the no trespassing signs?” Again, with the questions. I just took a big ass test where I didn’t know all of the answers. I don’t need another.

“No, I didn’t.”

“So, you came over a fence then?”

“The fence told me to.” Ward. Ward. Ward. Shut the hell up.

His face turned red. He raises his voice a tad, “This is private property and I suggest . . .”

I decide to end this. “Sir, I am very, very sorry. I made a mistake. I will immediately start back down the mountain. If you want to call the cops, go ahead, but I’m leaving now. I apologize. Sincerely.” I turn and start walking. I hear the jeep start to move behind me and for a moment I think he may run me over, but nothing happens. I don’t look back once and head down the mountain. About halfway down I stop and let out the breath I had been holding. I decide to go all the way down the road and look for the no trespassing signs he mentioned. They were there along with a sign telling anyone delivering a package to text him and he will come down to get the package. His name was Ed Tompkins (I made that name up).

I keep walking and pass by a batch of mobile homes right outside of Ed’s gate. A few people are sitting outside at a table.

“Hello. Is that Ed Tompkins home up there? He ordered a male stripper.”

They look at me funny. I keep walking.

I sent a message in the group chat I have with my brothers telling them about the encounter. Duffie replies, “You have to stay on the accepted trails. Those people don’t screw around with their land.” Now someone tells me.

I reply, “He was pissy.”

Duff shoots back, “It’s because he’s been eating shitty Hellman’s his whole life.” Cochran humor. When it hits, it hits.

I decide to go kayaking and leave all that resentment up on the mountain. The girl who rents me the kayak is married to a guy from Sumter, South Carolina, but that is a story for another day. Swear to God, you just can’t make this shit up.

Happy first day of school to my York County people. Teach your kids to consider consequences! I’m off to see what today has in store for me. I think I’m going to try to get a selfie in front of some buffalo.