Light Snow Falling, Dave Robinson [different ereaders .txt] 📗
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- Author: Dave Robinson
Book online «Light Snow Falling, Dave Robinson [different ereaders .txt] 📗». Author Dave Robinson
take it over by the window and just lay it on the window sill, just leave it for a few minutes. The longitude and latitude will automatically display if they can get a clear signal from the satellites.”
Cappy went on, “One of those maps is a topographical map, can you find that one?”
Alex sorted through the collection of maps. Scanning each one carefully, she finally found the right one. “Here it is,” she announced.
“Ok, now take a pen and a piece of paper and copy the longitude and latitude from the GPS.”
“Is that these long numbers?”
“Right, one should end with an ‘N’ and the other with a ‘W’.”
After a few moments, Alex brought the numbers to Cappy.
“Ok, now the map will have corresponding numbers around the edge, see if you can find them on the map, then match them with the GPS coordinates” Cappy directed.
Alex studied the map for several minutes, “I think I’ve got one,” she announced.
“All right,” Cappy said excitedly, “Now you’ve got to find the other one, it’ll be on the side of the page.”
“Got it,” Alex reported.
“Now just cross-reference the two and it’ll tell you right where we are.”
Alex drew an imaginary line down from the top of the page, then in from the side. “Looks like,” she paused making sure that her calculations were correct, “Lemon Lake,” she said tentatively, “Just a little blue dot on the map, sorta shaped like a lemon.”
“Does it show that we’re close to anything?” Cappy was really getting in to this.
“Hmm, can’t really tell,” Alex was closely inspecting the map. “Doesn’t show anything here.” Alex grabbed another map and spread it out. Working her finger around the map, she located Lemon Lake. “There is something here,” she reported. “’RS’ it says. What do you suppose that stands for?”
“Ranger Station, would be my guess,” Cappy said. “How far away is it? At the bottom of the page should be a legend of distances, measure the distance from Lemon Lake to the RS dot, then compare it to the legend.”
“Maybe about 12 miles,” Alex said. “According to the map, there’s a blue line from Lemon Lake to the Ranger Station. That’s probably a stream, right Cappy?”
“Probably, is it right on the stream?”
“Looks like it,” Alex answered.
“Of course it’s possible that no one’s there,” Cappy surmised. “Could be that they don’t staff it year-round.”
“So it could be that I could walk all the way there, and no one would be home,” Alex said flatly.
“That’s a possibility,” Cappy admitted.
“I need to get some more firewood inside,” Alex changed the subject.
She pulled on her shoes, her jacket and sweatshirt. Cappy had let her use a pair of gloves that were in his tool kit.
“That wood is probably frozen together,” Cappy warned, “You might want to take something to pry the frozen chunks apart.”
Alex grabbed the folding shovel and stepped into the cold.
A small lean-to had been built on the back of the cabin, there was quite a bit of firewood stacked in there. The snow had blown in and packed pretty tight. Alex used the shovel to chip the ice and snow away from the firewood so she could get to it. She pried a few pieces loose and carried them inside. Then went back for more. She made four trips inside with her arms loaded with firewood. “That should do it for now,” she said to herself.
She had also noticed a stack of wood between two trees a bit farther back from the cabin. It gave her a good feeling to know that they would probably have plenty of wood. Alex decided that since it wasn’t snowing right at the moment, she would do a little exploring. Walking up the creek that ran beside the cabin, she could hear her hiking boots crunching on the frozen snow. There must be at least two feet of snow under her feet, she guessed.
Alex kept going up the creek, the path through the trees led beside the creek. The creek wasn’t frozen over, although there were pieces of ice clinging to the creek bank. Alex wondered if the lake would freeze over. She wondered if there were any fish in the lake. There had been a fishing rod and reel in the emergency kit, maybe she’d try for some fresh fish later.
She kept walking and looking, she knew what she was looking for and finally she found it. Alex knew if she found just the right tree branch or young tree, she could make a crutch for Cappy and he could get around without hopping. There it was! A young sapling with a wide fork about half way up. Turning back, she made her way back to the cabin.
“Where have you been?” Cappy asked.
“Just exploring,” Alex explained, “I’ve got something for you.” She picked up the hand saw from the emergency kit and started back out the door.
“What is it?” Cappy said curiously.
“You’ll see,” Alex said as she went out the door. “I’ll be right back.”
She made her way back up the creek and found the tree. A few quick strokes with the saw and the sapling was down. She trimmed the branches and ‘ta da’ instant crutch. She could trim the length to fit Cappy’s height once she got back to the cabin.
“Surprise!” she called out as she stepped into the cabin.
“What ya got?” Cappy was blinking his eyes trying to focus.
“I made you a crutch,” Alex said proudly.
“A crutch!”
“Yep, stand up and let’s see if it fits,” she suggested.
Cappy made his way to his feet and steadying himself with one hand on the wall, Alex handed him the crutch. He balanced himself and inspected it with both hands. “Hmm, not bad,” he complimented her. Sliding it under his right armpit, he tested it for length.
“Can you cut it off just about three or four inches?” he asked.
“Sure,” Alex said. “I made it long on purpose so we could adjust it to the right size.”
A few more strokes with the saw and Cappy tried it again.
“Perfect,” he said with a grin, “Now if I can find something to pad it with it’ll be just perfect.”
Alex took the crutch back. “I’d like to shave off the bark so it won’t be pitchy and then we’ll get it padded,” she offered.
Alex got a pocket knife from their supplies and began stripping the bark off the crutch. After a time, she said, “Do you suppose there’s any fish in that lake?”
“Oh, I’m sure of it,” Cappy said. “Almost every lake in the area has fish in it. Why?”
“I was just wondering if we could get some fresh fish for dinner,” Alex suggested.
“Probably so, do you like to fish?”
“I’ve gone fishing a few times, its okay,” Alex replied. “When I finish your crutch, if it’s not snowing too hard, maybe I’ll give it a try.”
Chapter Ten
By the time Alex removed the bark from the crutch the daylight was beginning to fade. There would be no fishing today. The day had gone by quickly and still there was no let-up from the weather.
“Tomorrow,” Cappy began, “We need to build a big fire pile outside and cover it with evergreen boughs.”
“For a signal fire?” Alex guessed.
Cappy continued, “That’s right. We won’t light it unless we think someone can spot it from the air. The evergreen boughs will make a big smoke that they can spot from miles away. When you get that done, maybe we’ll find out what kind of fisherman you are,” he added with a smile.
That evening’s dinner menu consisted of smoked fish from the logging camp accompanied by peanut butter on crackers. The beverage of choice was hot tea for Alex and a cup of instant coffee for Cappy.
When they finished eating, Alex picked up the plastic baggie with the cotton balls. “You mentioned these cotton balls were for fire starting,” she said to Cappy. “How does it work?”
“Get some Vaseline on your finger, and then smear it on two or three cotton balls all wadded together. Now take the thing that looks like a screwdriver.”
“This thing?” Alex held up a tool that had a screwdriver handle with a rod sticking out of one end.
“That’s called a firesteel,” he explained. “And there are actually four parts to it. There’s a little scraper that’s tied to it. Then there’s the handle and the rod. The handle is made of either red cedar or redwood. Either one is a very soft wood and burns easily. The rod is made of two different metals. The main part of the rod is magnesium and the other rod that’s embedded into the magnesium is flint.”
“Sounds complicated,” Alex said thoughtfully.
“Not really, if you were out by yourself and you needed a fire you take the scraper and scrape some wood shavings off the handle. Then scrape some of the magnesium off the bigger rod and stack them on the wood. Then when you scrape the flint with the scraper, it throws off a spark of over 5000 degrees and starts the pile on fire. Pretty simple actually.”
“Can I try it?” Alex asked.
“I’ll show you a simpler trick for right now, maybe later we’ll do the other.”
“Ok,” Alex agreed.
“You got those cotton balls ready?”
Alex nodded, then said aloud, “Yep.”
“Ok,” he said, “Hold the end of the rod right down by the cotton balls and scrape the scraper along the flint rod.”
When she did a spark jumped off the rod. Nothing happened, but she was a little startled that the spark was so bright.
“Try it again,” he encouraged.
Again she scraped along the flint, harder this time producing another bright spark. This time it fell on one of the cotton balls which flamed up immediately.
The Vaseline caught and burned brightly. “I can see how this would make a great fire starter,” Alex commented
“Even works when it’s wet,” Cappy said. “Of course the tinder has to be dry, but it’ll still make a spark if it’s soaking wet.”
Alex lit a candle and stoked up the fire. She and Cappy visited back and forth. He asked about her family and he told her about his. Alex re-wrapped his ankle and noted that the swelling wasn’t as bad. Even the bruising around his eyes seemed to be fading.
Lieutenant Scott put the phone down. “Clearing trend headed our way day after tomorrow,” he announced to the Troopers gathered in his office. With each passing day the mood had grown more dismal regarding the search efforts. The townspeople had resigned themselves that a successful rescue was probably not going to be possible. With the weather behaving badly, there could be no search and no search meant no rescue. Now with the mention of clearing weather, it could only mean one thing, they might find the plane, but the likelihood of anyone surviving this much time was pretty slim.
Bess Benson had graciously taken all the phone calls and accepted the covered dishes that the ladies brought over. Everyone meant well, but nobody knew exactly what to say. There were no magic words. Even the pastor from the Community Church stopped by with words of
Cappy went on, “One of those maps is a topographical map, can you find that one?”
Alex sorted through the collection of maps. Scanning each one carefully, she finally found the right one. “Here it is,” she announced.
“Ok, now take a pen and a piece of paper and copy the longitude and latitude from the GPS.”
“Is that these long numbers?”
“Right, one should end with an ‘N’ and the other with a ‘W’.”
After a few moments, Alex brought the numbers to Cappy.
“Ok, now the map will have corresponding numbers around the edge, see if you can find them on the map, then match them with the GPS coordinates” Cappy directed.
Alex studied the map for several minutes, “I think I’ve got one,” she announced.
“All right,” Cappy said excitedly, “Now you’ve got to find the other one, it’ll be on the side of the page.”
“Got it,” Alex reported.
“Now just cross-reference the two and it’ll tell you right where we are.”
Alex drew an imaginary line down from the top of the page, then in from the side. “Looks like,” she paused making sure that her calculations were correct, “Lemon Lake,” she said tentatively, “Just a little blue dot on the map, sorta shaped like a lemon.”
“Does it show that we’re close to anything?” Cappy was really getting in to this.
“Hmm, can’t really tell,” Alex was closely inspecting the map. “Doesn’t show anything here.” Alex grabbed another map and spread it out. Working her finger around the map, she located Lemon Lake. “There is something here,” she reported. “’RS’ it says. What do you suppose that stands for?”
“Ranger Station, would be my guess,” Cappy said. “How far away is it? At the bottom of the page should be a legend of distances, measure the distance from Lemon Lake to the RS dot, then compare it to the legend.”
“Maybe about 12 miles,” Alex said. “According to the map, there’s a blue line from Lemon Lake to the Ranger Station. That’s probably a stream, right Cappy?”
“Probably, is it right on the stream?”
“Looks like it,” Alex answered.
“Of course it’s possible that no one’s there,” Cappy surmised. “Could be that they don’t staff it year-round.”
“So it could be that I could walk all the way there, and no one would be home,” Alex said flatly.
“That’s a possibility,” Cappy admitted.
“I need to get some more firewood inside,” Alex changed the subject.
She pulled on her shoes, her jacket and sweatshirt. Cappy had let her use a pair of gloves that were in his tool kit.
“That wood is probably frozen together,” Cappy warned, “You might want to take something to pry the frozen chunks apart.”
Alex grabbed the folding shovel and stepped into the cold.
A small lean-to had been built on the back of the cabin, there was quite a bit of firewood stacked in there. The snow had blown in and packed pretty tight. Alex used the shovel to chip the ice and snow away from the firewood so she could get to it. She pried a few pieces loose and carried them inside. Then went back for more. She made four trips inside with her arms loaded with firewood. “That should do it for now,” she said to herself.
She had also noticed a stack of wood between two trees a bit farther back from the cabin. It gave her a good feeling to know that they would probably have plenty of wood. Alex decided that since it wasn’t snowing right at the moment, she would do a little exploring. Walking up the creek that ran beside the cabin, she could hear her hiking boots crunching on the frozen snow. There must be at least two feet of snow under her feet, she guessed.
Alex kept going up the creek, the path through the trees led beside the creek. The creek wasn’t frozen over, although there were pieces of ice clinging to the creek bank. Alex wondered if the lake would freeze over. She wondered if there were any fish in the lake. There had been a fishing rod and reel in the emergency kit, maybe she’d try for some fresh fish later.
She kept walking and looking, she knew what she was looking for and finally she found it. Alex knew if she found just the right tree branch or young tree, she could make a crutch for Cappy and he could get around without hopping. There it was! A young sapling with a wide fork about half way up. Turning back, she made her way back to the cabin.
“Where have you been?” Cappy asked.
“Just exploring,” Alex explained, “I’ve got something for you.” She picked up the hand saw from the emergency kit and started back out the door.
“What is it?” Cappy said curiously.
“You’ll see,” Alex said as she went out the door. “I’ll be right back.”
She made her way back up the creek and found the tree. A few quick strokes with the saw and the sapling was down. She trimmed the branches and ‘ta da’ instant crutch. She could trim the length to fit Cappy’s height once she got back to the cabin.
“Surprise!” she called out as she stepped into the cabin.
“What ya got?” Cappy was blinking his eyes trying to focus.
“I made you a crutch,” Alex said proudly.
“A crutch!”
“Yep, stand up and let’s see if it fits,” she suggested.
Cappy made his way to his feet and steadying himself with one hand on the wall, Alex handed him the crutch. He balanced himself and inspected it with both hands. “Hmm, not bad,” he complimented her. Sliding it under his right armpit, he tested it for length.
“Can you cut it off just about three or four inches?” he asked.
“Sure,” Alex said. “I made it long on purpose so we could adjust it to the right size.”
A few more strokes with the saw and Cappy tried it again.
“Perfect,” he said with a grin, “Now if I can find something to pad it with it’ll be just perfect.”
Alex took the crutch back. “I’d like to shave off the bark so it won’t be pitchy and then we’ll get it padded,” she offered.
Alex got a pocket knife from their supplies and began stripping the bark off the crutch. After a time, she said, “Do you suppose there’s any fish in that lake?”
“Oh, I’m sure of it,” Cappy said. “Almost every lake in the area has fish in it. Why?”
“I was just wondering if we could get some fresh fish for dinner,” Alex suggested.
“Probably so, do you like to fish?”
“I’ve gone fishing a few times, its okay,” Alex replied. “When I finish your crutch, if it’s not snowing too hard, maybe I’ll give it a try.”
Chapter Ten
By the time Alex removed the bark from the crutch the daylight was beginning to fade. There would be no fishing today. The day had gone by quickly and still there was no let-up from the weather.
“Tomorrow,” Cappy began, “We need to build a big fire pile outside and cover it with evergreen boughs.”
“For a signal fire?” Alex guessed.
Cappy continued, “That’s right. We won’t light it unless we think someone can spot it from the air. The evergreen boughs will make a big smoke that they can spot from miles away. When you get that done, maybe we’ll find out what kind of fisherman you are,” he added with a smile.
That evening’s dinner menu consisted of smoked fish from the logging camp accompanied by peanut butter on crackers. The beverage of choice was hot tea for Alex and a cup of instant coffee for Cappy.
When they finished eating, Alex picked up the plastic baggie with the cotton balls. “You mentioned these cotton balls were for fire starting,” she said to Cappy. “How does it work?”
“Get some Vaseline on your finger, and then smear it on two or three cotton balls all wadded together. Now take the thing that looks like a screwdriver.”
“This thing?” Alex held up a tool that had a screwdriver handle with a rod sticking out of one end.
“That’s called a firesteel,” he explained. “And there are actually four parts to it. There’s a little scraper that’s tied to it. Then there’s the handle and the rod. The handle is made of either red cedar or redwood. Either one is a very soft wood and burns easily. The rod is made of two different metals. The main part of the rod is magnesium and the other rod that’s embedded into the magnesium is flint.”
“Sounds complicated,” Alex said thoughtfully.
“Not really, if you were out by yourself and you needed a fire you take the scraper and scrape some wood shavings off the handle. Then scrape some of the magnesium off the bigger rod and stack them on the wood. Then when you scrape the flint with the scraper, it throws off a spark of over 5000 degrees and starts the pile on fire. Pretty simple actually.”
“Can I try it?” Alex asked.
“I’ll show you a simpler trick for right now, maybe later we’ll do the other.”
“Ok,” Alex agreed.
“You got those cotton balls ready?”
Alex nodded, then said aloud, “Yep.”
“Ok,” he said, “Hold the end of the rod right down by the cotton balls and scrape the scraper along the flint rod.”
When she did a spark jumped off the rod. Nothing happened, but she was a little startled that the spark was so bright.
“Try it again,” he encouraged.
Again she scraped along the flint, harder this time producing another bright spark. This time it fell on one of the cotton balls which flamed up immediately.
The Vaseline caught and burned brightly. “I can see how this would make a great fire starter,” Alex commented
“Even works when it’s wet,” Cappy said. “Of course the tinder has to be dry, but it’ll still make a spark if it’s soaking wet.”
Alex lit a candle and stoked up the fire. She and Cappy visited back and forth. He asked about her family and he told her about his. Alex re-wrapped his ankle and noted that the swelling wasn’t as bad. Even the bruising around his eyes seemed to be fading.
Lieutenant Scott put the phone down. “Clearing trend headed our way day after tomorrow,” he announced to the Troopers gathered in his office. With each passing day the mood had grown more dismal regarding the search efforts. The townspeople had resigned themselves that a successful rescue was probably not going to be possible. With the weather behaving badly, there could be no search and no search meant no rescue. Now with the mention of clearing weather, it could only mean one thing, they might find the plane, but the likelihood of anyone surviving this much time was pretty slim.
Bess Benson had graciously taken all the phone calls and accepted the covered dishes that the ladies brought over. Everyone meant well, but nobody knew exactly what to say. There were no magic words. Even the pastor from the Community Church stopped by with words of
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