Black Ice

"No one will ever find me" was the thought that kept going through my head as I sat pinned between the steering wheel and drivers seat of my well driven Outback. The smell of sulfur from the previously deployed air bags was gone by now and the snow was beginning to thicken on the shattered tempered glass of the windshield as if a white blanket was being place over my body at the scene of the accident. The tire marks that led off the winding road and down a steep slope of Blewett pass would soon be gone.

Fuck! Why did I take that turn so fast when I knew all to well of the inherent risks of driving at dusk with 32 degree clearly displayed on my dash!

My leg was numb and most likely broken. How in the hell do I get out of here? How do I alert any one driving by with the increasingly heavy snow fall? No cell service! I should have stayed at the family cabin in Mazama and headed out in the morning! I don't want to be another tragic story on King 5!

Think! Think Bobby Think!

What did I have in my car that was reachable from my compromised position and help me alert passers by? A blanket to keep me warm! Food and water to get me through the night if not longer.

Most of the needed survival supply's laid in the back hatch are that I had already tried to reach....to no avail.

Fuck! I don't want life to be over!

I want to see my family and children get married, I want to be a grandfather!

I want to tell them I love them again.

Hope, cling on to hope I kept telling myself. Plenty of years left in this world!

It was at this very moment that I saw a colorful tube that had slid out from under the passenger seat.

I'll be damned! It was a Roman candle firework that I had taken away from my son Jack earlier that summer due to the extremely high forest fire warnings throughout the region.

I slowly worked the floor mat towards me and the candle was within reach. A cheap Bic lighter was located in my front pocket which I had used to light up some recently approved legal green in WA state during a day hike.

I had one shot at this. Don't screw up.

Luckily the passenger widow had been knocked out and was facing uphill towards the road. There were most likely three to fire fire balls that could help give signal. The timing had to be perfect! Lead the receiver with the pass! Don't throw it behind him! All sorts of sports analogy swept through my head.

What if it's a dud? No, it's going to work.

At that very moment I could hear the compression breaks of a large truck come over the ridge! As it came closer, I could barely make out that it was ironically logging truck which for years, I have loathed.

It was time to have an early Fourth of July in the snow. Lighter in hand, launch pad set for lead pass, wick lit, eyes wide open, nothing but hope!

It was the most beautiful site I had ever scene as the fiery colored balls streaked directly in front of the Loggers windshield and I would soon be rescued and forever thankful and appreciative of life!