Good Samaritan Journey Gone Bad: Mere Mountain Anecdote

Good Samaritan Journey Gone Bad:  Mere Mountain Anecdote

I had an experience worthy of repeating (a sparkling vignette or, perhaps more accurately, a mere mountain anecdote) a year or two ago (whose counting anyway).  My part in this saga was small.  I played the straight man at the finale.  All the drama happens before without my knowledge or involvement.  The fun speculation happens at the end.  That part is all mine.

A day earlier, one character, a neighbor, was doing what many Hoodlanders do, especially on a sunny, cool day in the winter.  Neighbor and spouse went for a mid-day hike up at Old Maid Flats.  There was snow on the ground.  Somehow, a driver’s license is lost.  Later I find out, after coming home and realizing the license was lost, they went back seeking to find it.  They didn’t find it.  Driver’s license was still missing.

The main character is a flatlander, a Portlander.  There were no obvious signs of where he lived.  He drove a jeep and had enough facial hair to fit in.  He had come up to our beautiful neck of the forest for hiking.  Maybe he had come and stayed overnight.  He pulls in the driveway of my residence and my two dogs are going berserk, barking around the car (like they always do, even when I come home but it’s hard to tell someone new that it’s just “hello” in dog verbiage).  He just stays in his car.  Hearing the clatter I come out of the house to see what was the matter (is this plagiarism???).  As I get to his car and the dogs have quieted down, he gets out leaving his car running.   He said he found a driver’s license and asked if I knew the person.  I take a look at the license and told him I did, neighbor up the road.  He wanted to know if I could return it for him.  I said sure and thanked him.  He gets back in his car (still running) and he says:  “This is a very unfriendly place.”   And he takes off down the dirt road to the paved road, which in turn leads to the Safety Corridor per ODOT (Hwy 26).

I wasn’t quick enough to ask him what happened to bring him to the "unfriendly place" conclusion.  Maybe I, with my scruffy beard, jeans, and plaid shirt, looked a bit sinister.  I wasn’t carrying an axe like I do sometimes.  Maybe he was put off by my two anxiously barking dogs – the fearsome ones that keep the poor UPS driver pinned inside his noisy brown truck.  But then I thought it couldn’t have been me.  Or was I just the last one he saw on his Good Samaritan Journey Gone Bad? 

So now I’m speculating on what trials and tribulations this poor visitor must have gone through before he arrived by my woodshed.  Let’s say he has enough mapping skills to get to our dirt road and turn up the hill.  His first stop may have been the folks who never answer their door (House A), even when you can see their cars are there and the TV is on.  Dead end.  (BTW no cell phone coverage.) 

Across the way is another house (House B).  Probably didn’t get in there since they usually have their gate closed.  Plus the folks in House A haven’t yet reached a truce with those in House B.  So if the people in House B saw that you stopped at House A first …. well, would you expect them to be friendly?  Dead end.  Still no cell phone coverage. 

If one continues down this long driveway, you come to House C.  Around the curve you first come to 3 hound dogs on long leashes.  On one side of the narrow drive are the frenzied hounds and the other side is a vertical drop of several hundred feet.  Then chances are you see the old geezer sitting on his porch with his rifle.  He’s got a part of Mt. Hood at his back and a clear view in front of him.  Now and then, the county will contract with this “old geezer” to track down a troublesome cougar or bear.  That’s what his “huntin’ dogs” are for.  So I’m guessing our Good Samaritan had second thoughts, put his car in reverse and drove back to the main dirt road (without checking for cell phone coverage the third time).  Dead end.  Dead zone.

So he made the extra effort and drove up the hill to my place.  And he was able to unload the burden of the found driver’s license on me.  I never got his name so my neighbor could not thank him properly or, maybe, give him a reward.  Guess letting him go was reward enough.