as fastasI daredintheneardarkbut—a
straightline?Noway.Still,aslongasI could
hearthecreek,I’dbeOK.
I enteredtheponderosapinestandand
realizeda heart-stoppingerror.WhatI
thoughtwasthesoundofrushingcreekwater
was actuallypinetopsswishinginthegust-
ing wind.SowherewasNuggetCreek!Way
off? Nearlyunderfoot?Reasonwonoutover
panic.It hadtobea safedistanceaway,orI’d
hearit,windornot.Regardless,I waslikely
halfwaydowntoGranddad’s.
Still,withthetreescamenewdanger.
Pineneedleslayeredthickonthegroundand
slickasskatingicewouldrequirehandand
foot holds.Thegoodnews?I’dfinallymoved
belowthefog.I bracedmyselfagainstan
orange-barkedpinetoradioGranddad.
Hesoundedrelieved.“Let’scheckposi-
tion,Alec.Turnoffyourheadlamp.Findmy
yardlight.”
I switchedit off,squintedintodarkness.
Puzzled,I spokeintotheradio.“Nolight.”
Theradiocrackled,Granddad’svoicecau-
tionary.“Onthathill,theonlyplaceyoucan’t
see cabinlightis at thecliff.Youmight’ve
veeredleft.”
Spooked,I sidesteppedright.I’dstrayed
off thesafecourse?Myadrenalinekickedup
a notch.Thebiggestdangertomewasa pos-
siblefalloffthatrockface!
“OK,I’mfartherright,”I radioed,pant-
ing. “Icanseeyouryardlight.”I moved
forwardandthelightdisappeared.“Hey,wait
a minute.”I steppedleft.Nolight.Moved
rightthreefeet,thereit was!
“Granddad,”I said,relieved,“yourlight’s
there.It justplayshide-and-seekinthesebig
trees.”Withwind-drivensnowflakesbegin-
ningtoswirl,I slithereddownhillagain,
usinghandandfootholdsduringanother
knee-grindingdescent.
I emergedfromthepinegroveintoa
boulderfield,trustyheadlampstabbingthe
darkness,tofindsnowflakessiftingdownlike
finesugarand—oh,no!
I stopped.Disbelieving,I keyedthemic.
“Granddad,somehowI’mat thebearrub!”HERE,A STAND MEANS A GROUPING
OF ALL THE SAME KIND OF TREE.