Duane came home for dinner Saturday night, & then headed out to Holcomb Valley to camp in order to be there for some early AM race. He expected to be home Sunday PM by 2 or so, but was not. They didn't find the guy they were looking for. From his first description of the search, it almost sounded like some older guy had gone out into the desert to commit suicide. However, Duane told me at dinner that they think that he just went out & got drunk & lost. He was actually in an area of a bunch of houses assumed to be deserted, but they weren't allowed to actually search buildings for him. Also the family had been out to look for him & their prints had destroyed whatever trail he had made.
So, the result from that search might not be as dire as i first suspected. He might be holed up somewhere, sleeping it off. The results may not be good, still, but it isn't quite as bad as it could be.
I didn't make it to town on Saturday, but did on Sunday PM. The other book (besides the Sally Fallon book, which is much bigger than i expected) is Jason Boyett's Oh Me of Little Faith. I read the intro & part of the first chapter while at lunch.
On my way into town, i saw 10 or 15 Jeep Wranglers ("the he-man" form of Jeep according to Duane). We've often commented about what a high percentage of them up here. So i decided to do a limited count. I decided to use the 1.1 mile stretch between Division & Stanfield Cutoff along the "marsh" section of the lake. I counted the cars in the opposite lane coming toward me. Ok, here are the stats:
- I counted 50 cars.
- NOT ONE of them was a Jeep Wrangler!
- Two were Jeeps of other types, like a Cherokee or Patriot.
- As soon as i reached Stanfield Cutoff & stopped counting, i immediately saw 2 Jeep Wranglers coming toward me.
- There were also 2 Jeep Wranglers in the line ahead of me.
- This kind of count is useless.
Isn't life funny?