adventureLOG
a mess. "Well John, I see no way out of
here but the way you came. What say we go on a little adventure?" John looked up at me. He seemed
even weaker, his exhaustion palpa- ble. "I don’t know that I can.” "Okay, no problem. Do you think
you could ride on my back? If so, I think I can carry you out." "Yes, I think I can do that." So there I was, an old man on my
back, scouting a path through the thicket to whatever lay ahead. Just another day in the world of Adven- ture Riding. We found a spot in the old fence
that would allow passage, and John beckoned to a path familiar to him. We entered the tree line, dodging brush and stepping clumsily over fallen logs. Clearly there was a path, though I was not convinced it was made by humans. What kind of ani- mals inhabit the forests of South Carolina? Probably soulless killing machines, I thought, considering the luck I was having. Along the way we talked, chattering about nothing in particular, just passing the time as we made our way through the thicket. Eventually, the forest gave way to
an old dirt road, hopefully heading in the direction of the highway. "How ya feeling John, you think you can walk now that there's a road?" "Yes, I think I can, thanks." He slid
off my back and took to his own two feet. I looked him over, he seemed refreshed. "Okay then, let’s take a walk to the
road, shall we?" We walked together, slow and deliberate, making our way toward the familiar. The main road was out of sight, though I could hear the sound of slow-moving vehicles as they made their way through the construction zone. Soon I caught sight of a mini-van, parked on the dirt road. Seeing us, a man stepped
62 BMW OWNERS NEWS May 2016
out of the driver’s side door. "You guys okay?!” he yelled toward us. Turns out the man in the van had also
been stuck in traffic, not far from my brother and me. He had witnessed John and my struggles and deduced that indeed there was trouble. He had pulled out of traffic and started looking for a way to help us. He came across the dirt road and took a chance that we would emerge from this area, should we manage to brave our way off the hilltop. "Yeah we could use a hand!" I called
back, yelling to be heard over the distance. "We’ll come to you, okay?!" He agreed, and John and I made our way
toward the stranger in the van. "Well John, that gentleman over there wants to help us. Looks like we're about out of this mess, wouldn't ya say?" "Looks that way," John answered with a
smile. "I want to thank you for helping me." "Oh it's no problem, John. Folks have to
look out for each other, ya know?" John reached into his pocket, clasping at
its contents. "Here, I want you to have this. As a thank you." He removed his hand, now swollen with unknown belongings. He hovered his hand over mine, and opened it. Several coins fell into my open palm. I looked at them. They were solid gold. "
...John. Whoa. Are these what I think
they are?" "Gold. One ounce each," John said, with
a hint of pride. "I have a gold mine ya see, and I have lots of gold." He reached into his pocket, where more coins jingled. He pro- duced another handful, which promptly fell into my other palm. My head was spinning. Twenty Thou-
sand? Thirty? Probably I had never held so much money in my life, most certainly never so much pure gold. I looked dumb- founded at John. "It's yours," he said. “Come to my gold mine, and I'll give you more.” I thought about John and his gold mine,
the horse buggy, and the adventure we just had. Then a new image came to mind. An old man, frail and somewhat senile, cash- ing out his life savings for gold coins. His
financial future might literally be in my hands. I took a deep breath. "Aw John, I can't take your money. The code of a Good Samaritan demands that I help you for free." I handed the coins back to him. He looked me over, his frailty coming
through once more. "Okay Shawn, but it’s yours if you change your mind." "Hey, do me a favor, will ya John? I'm
gonna see if this guy in the minivan can give you a ride. If it works out, I'll have him take you to a clinic to get checked out. When you meet him, don't tell him about your coins, okay? In fact, don't tell anyone. Let’s just keep that between you and me, okay?” "Okay, Shawn, I trust you.” I met the man in the van, and explained
the situation. He seemed trustworthy enough, and I felt comfortable sending John with him. I helped John into the van. “Off you go, my friend, stay out of trouble, okay?” And with an unceremonious wave, the two headed off. It wasn't until the taillights faded that I
realized I WAS TOTALLY LOST. I had no idea where I was, where my brother was, or how to solve either problem. But soon the sound of heavy equipment cut through the quiet, and I followed it to find the con- struction zone that had been the catalyst of my adventure. Soon I was on familiar ground, walking in the heat until I came to find the rig I had abandoned, parked pre- cariously on the roadside. It took a good deal of time to share the
tale with my brother and to convince him that abandoning him in the middle of nowhere was the only available option. He had been angry and concerned, but even- tually agreed that I had probably made the right call. When I finished my tale, he replied,
"Next time you go saving someone, take your cellphone, okay?" A fine idea indeed!
discovery
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