Sourdough

The snow blanketed the land in every direction, the towering pine and aspen trees keeping watch over the mountain like sentinels in a storm.

Ol' Sourdough rubbed the sleep from his eyes, getting up from the warm pallet as his old bones creaked and popped. He had been alive for a long, long time and seen many a storm. This one here was a good'n. He knew that his shelter was completely buried, but for the first time in days, the whistling and groaning of the winter wind had mercifully stopped. The silence was deafening as Sourdough broke through the top layer of ice in his water bin and quickly wet his lips. He would have some work to do today if he were to have any hopes of seeing the sun again.

As soon as he was growed enough, Sourdough had lit out for the West, spending years traversing the hills and streams of fur country in the Shining Mountains, otherwise known as the Rockies. He had been a free trapper, trader, prospector and guide, helping many a tenderfoot navigate their way across the mountain passes and rugged trails that crisscrossed the land. He never stayed in one place very long, and had no family laying claim on him. Sourdough was totally alone, or as he thought of it, living the life of a free man. He traveled with an old mule he named Sara (after a long-lost love) that helped him lug the timber up and down the mule trails of Santa Fe mountain, the railroad paying him for each load they delivered. He and Sara traipsed up and down the mountain in fine fettle until the first leaves turned. Then that old girl laid down and died, having lived a good life of service to him. Sourdough was not the sentimental sort, but he was getting up there in years and decided to settle down on the spot where he had buried his old friend, just to wait out the winter.

Sourdough reached into his possibles bag and fetched his pipe and the very last of the tobacco he had traded for last summer out at Bent's Old Fort, before he and Sara headed up into the hills. He took a long, satisfying pull on the pipe and threw a handful of kindling onto the small fire.

The smoke hole was holding up pretty well, he thought. The heat was melting the snow around the hole, keeping the place warm while the snow and winds raged outside. With the pemmican and the few food items he still had stored away, Sourdough knew that he could last a lot longer in here but was beginning to feel the itch, knowing that many a mountain man had gone under after being stuck in one place for too long. It was known as "seeing the elephant," that giant, monstrous beast of a vision that made many a free man lose his wits and will to survive. That was one old gal Sourdough had no intention of meeting. He closed one eye and peered up the smoke hole, looking for the sun and praying that he would find it shining through. He could see a small sliver of bright light and knew that this was it, his golden opportunity.

CJ

Charles James, affectionately known to his family and friends as CJ, was on a bit of an adventure. He had been slightly adrift, having recently graduated from high school, spending all summer working with his hands at any job he could possibly get that would keep him outdoors and moving. He wasn't sure exactly what he wanted to do with his life, just that he was impatient for it to actually begin. He always had what his mother called "the wanderlust," a desire to see what lies over the next hill, down the farthest path or better yet, off of it. His parents nagged at him constantly to choose a college or career, but CJ held out, saving his money and getting stronger from the physical demands of each new job, closing his eyes every night with the satisfaction of a hard day's work well done.

His cell phone chirped out a warning to him that he was getting low on juice; the charger in his old red Ford pickup wasn't the greatest. It was a crisp, winter Colorado morning and CJ was determined to get out at first light. The weather was unusually warm this year, leaving him with the perfect opportunity to accomplish his goal. His constant companion, a young Golden Retriever named Cassie, sat beside him, joyfully sticking her head out of the window into the thin mountain air as they rounded the bend and the old mining town of Idaho Springs loomed into their view.

His father had taken him up here for as long as he could remember. They owned eighty acres on North Santa Fe mountain and almost every year without fail, CJ and his dad would brave the rugged, rocky dirt road that was only accessible by a four-wheel-drive to go and pick out the perfect Christmas tree. They would make a great adventure out of it, hiking through the thick woods, making sure they found the very best one that would make his mother and sisters laugh with delight. Once they found it, Dad would reverently take his hand and they would both touch the trunk of the tree, gauging its size and exactly which tools they would need.

By the time he was ten, CJ could wield the ax like a pro, Dad always watching with a sharp eye to make sure he was being safe. Once the tree was down, they would gently pack it up, stopping for a picnic lunch somewhere along the way, drinking in the magnificent sights and sounds of nature all around them. CJ had spent years of his young life camping, hiking, and wandering the great outdoors, but the time spent on Santa Fe mountain with his father was special. The conversations they would have, the skills his father would teach him and always, there was the mountain, the one place where CJ felt his heart swell with freedom and joy. His father would regale him with stories of the hearty trappers and mountain men that had actually lived on the mountain and more than once CJ would close his eyes and imagine what that must have been like, wishing more than anything that he could be one of them.

Cassie let out a sharp bark as CJ rounded the bend to where the paved road stopped and the dirt one began. It was a long, treacherous climb up the mountain and CJ laughed as he remembered his mother and sisters covering their eyes on the way up, afraid to look straight down into the abyss. There wasn't a single guardrail in sight. CJ loved it, craning his head as far out of the window as Dad would allow while Mom watched him nervously through her fingers.

"Well, this is it, girl. Are you ready?" he said to Cassie as he stopped the truck and put it into four-wheel-drive, excited as he always was, to get back up to his beloved mountain.

Sourdough

Sourdough spent the better part of the morning digging himself out. Using his old pickaxe, he hammered away relentlessly at the wall of snow and ice, inch by inch, until the first rays of the sun beamed down upon his grizzled old face. By midday, he had just about cleared the doorway and was able to take his first step into the outside world in over a week. The sun was blinding as Sourdough took a moment to acclimate himself, feeling the crisp, thin mountain air on his face. It was a white, shining paradise all around him in every direction, and Sourdough thought that if this wasn't Heaven, it was the closest thing to it. As always, he thanked The Man Above for making him the luckiest and freest creature on the face of this old earth: a mountain man.

He turned to survey his handiwork. The cabin had held up remarkably well, he thought with pride. He and Sara had lugged enough lumber up and down the trail for him to keep a few logs. He had worked away all summer into the fall, his mule keeping him company until she left him, and the skeleton of his cabin was completed. He had just laid down the roof and filled all the gaps with mud when the first snows began, ending in an epic, swirling storm that kept him holed up for nearly a week. Crude though it was, Sourdough had to admit that it was the finest home he could recall, having lived under the stars for the better part of forty years.

It would be a real shame to leave it in the spring, he thought— maybe I'll stay a spell. He could certainly still set his traps, although every year he had to climb higher and higher to find beavers. Before long there wouldn't be any of the little critters left.

Sourdough pointed his makeshift snowshoes downward and began the long trek. With his old Hawken muzzle-loading rifle slung over his back, he slowly made his way through the snow in search of provisions. He didn't expect he'd find a buck, but a nice tasty squirrel was a real possibility. Sourdough could see that the afternoon was beginning to turn dark again, snow clouds getting ready for another go—he had better be quick. He had gone on for a long while when he noticed that the snow was completely melted from the ground. He stopped and looked back. Behind him, there was a foot or more, the prints from his snowshoes staring back at him defiantly. Here, where he was standing, there was nothing. It was like the storm had never happened. He was about to turn back to investigate when a sudden sound startled him, unlike anything he had ever heard before, piercing the still afternoon air. A rumbling, menacing sound.

A train engine? No that's not possible; there are no trains anywhere near the mountain. Sourdough flattened himself against the trunk of a large aspen and waited. He had managed to keep his topknot for nigh on seventy years now, despite almost getting scalped by a Pawnee brave some years back. He hadn't gotten to be this advanced age by being careless.

A sudden mist sprung up out of the ground, putting him instantly on guard. Something strange was afoot, all of his senses were on fire. Out of the spidery haze an astonishing vision barreled into his line of sight, roaring past him as Sourdough clutched his rifle in abject terror.

What manner of creature is this? He desperately tried to make sense out of his predicament as the strange monster came to a stop just yards below him. It was enormous, made of some kind of iron, garishly red and demonic with smoke bellowing from its underbelly. Sourdough aimed his Hawken straight at it then nearly fainted dead away as it opened itself up and a man with a big golden dog stepped out. Both were wearing some unearthly shade of orange and Sourdough pondered that he must have fallen into Hell. All of this simply could not be real.

CJ

CJ checked to make sure Cassie's optic-orange vest was secure. There were always hunters on Santa Fe mountain and he didn't want his dog mistaken for a deer, or himself for that matter. He made sure he had everything he needed--tools, ax, knife, bear spray. He had never heard of bears being on the mountain before, but he was very careful about his surroundings. He always took precautions, knowing the mountain can turn on you in a heartbeat. He packed up the last of his provisions, making sure there was enough food and water for the day and turned to look at the mountain.

He was feeling a little distant from his family these days. His father had been too busy with work and couldn't make it up to the mountain this year. CJ was the youngest of three and his sisters were both in college. There really was no time or reason to keep up their annual Christmas tradition; no one was expecting it. CJ felt that bringing back the perfect Christmas tree would be a special gift to them, his way of showing his appreciation. He also wanted to prove that he was finally responsible enough to carry on the tradition all on his own, for he had no doubt that someday he would bring his own children up to the mountain. If he could find a way, perhaps he would even make the mountain his permanent home.

He felt a slight change in the air as a light mist began to gather around his feet. The morning had been clear, but clouds were starting to gather off in the distance. He whistled to Cassie and found her completely still, locked onto something about halfway up the first hill. A light growl escaped her throat, a sound he knew all too well, especially when there was a squirrel anywhere nearby. He looked up to see why she was staring so intently. Nothing. Complete stillness.

He got a sudden sensation that he was being watched as his hand instinctively reached for the large hunting knife on his hip.

"Hello? Is there anyone there?" Cassie barked once, breaking him out of his reverie. She ran up to him, tail wagging in anticipation. The feeling passed and CJ guessed that whatever it was had gone. He started up the mountain with Cassie running ahead in excitement. He remembered a certain clearing with a large copse of pine trees about a half-mile up. He would find his tree there. Man and dog made their way up the mountain as the feathery mist continued to grow and billow out behind them, the first snowflakes falling gently to the earth.

Sourdough

Sourdough deftly followed the man and dog as they made their way up the north side of the mountain. He was an expert tracker, but he had to admit that the dog almost flushed him out, he needed to watch his every move. He could see that the man was young, little more than a boy. He was still beardless, with short yellow hair, carrying a large satchel on his back. He wore strange clothing, including a painfully-bright orange garment of a shade Sourdough had never seen before, perfectly matching the one on his long-haired dog. They made quite a pair as they lumbered their way up to the clearing ahead. The boy seemed to know his way around the mountain, but he wouldn't keep his hair on his head very long if the Ute were tracking him. They would hear him coming a mile away.

Sourdough looked up and saw the most peculiar thing—the sky appeared to be bending, moving and shimmering in a way he couldn't fathom. He felt a sudden pressure in his head, a ringing in his ears and saw the boy and dog begin to flicker, like flames.

What in tarnation is going on? They made the clearing and the boy stopped in front of a decent-sized pine tree, circled around and looked at it from every direction. He said something to the dog (Cassie? Is that what he called her? ) and pulled an ax from his sack. The boy laid his hand on the trunk of the tree in some sort of ritual then backed away and took his first swing. Sourdough had to admit that the boy was pretty handy with an ax as he watched him bring down the tree, then expertly truss it up and harness it onto his back.

Now why did he choose that particular tree out of all the ones along the way? The boy checked to make sure the harness was secure then took the whole thing off and proceeded to throw a stick for the dog laughing in pure delight as she nearly knocked him over. Sourdough held back a chuckle, feeling the camaraderie of man and beast. Just like how he and old Sara used to be. Lord, how he missed that old mule! He continued to watch as they played, then settled in for a midday meal on the stump of a tree, the boy throwing scraps of meat to his over-eager dog. Sourdough grabbed some pemmican from his bag and took a bite, keeping a close watch on the pair as the odd, rippling sky suddenly opened up and the snow began to come down in waves.

CJ

CJ knew it was the one as soon as they hit the clearing. It stood apart from the others, proud and perfectly formed. He placed his hand gently on its trunk in the well-loved tradition, a hundred memories hitting him all at once.

He could picture the tree in their front window, decorated with all of his mother's favorite ornaments. She always had to get an ornament at every single family trip or event-- they took up the entire tree. Bing Crosby would be singing in the background as he and his sisters looped string after string of lights around the tree, laughing at their Mom's self-proclaimed, tacky decorating style. Everyone at home for the holidays, all of them together.

CJ had prepared a travois that he planned to harness to his back in order to bring the tree down the mountain, just as his father had taught him. The weather seemed to be holding out, he figured they had time for lunch and a quick round of fetch before heading back to the truck. A movement in the sky caught his eye and he looked up into an incredible sight. The sky was filled with colors, like a wavy, psychedelic Aurora Borealis. CJ stood up, feeling lightheaded as he watched the sky tumble and churn. A random jumble of high-pitched sounds hit him all at once, making his head spin. He jumped up in alarm, calling Cassie to him and quickly gathered up his gear to head back. He wasn't sure what was happening but every instinct was telling him he needed to go immediately. He had just enough time to put on the harness before the first wave of snow literally fell from the sky, like God opening up a trap door.

In a matter of minutes, CJ was caught in an almost total whiteout. He called out to Cassie, saw a flash of orange coming towards him and managed to clip on her leash, the two of them being blown and battered by the powerful wind. He was grateful that he remembered to put on her vest, if he hadn't she would be completely lost to him out here. His initial shock turned into survival mode as he grabbed his compass. He watched in disbelief as it shattered in his hand, leaving him lost in the swirling storm, unsure of the way back. He made a decision and trudged ahead with the tree dragging behind and Cassie close at his side. Each step was a chore, the wind was stronger than anything he had ever experienced. The icy sleet constantly assaulted him, like glass shards hitting every exposed inch of his body. After a while, he felt the terrain change slightly and prayed that his instinct was true, that they would find their way back to the truck, to shelter. CJ was in excellent shape, but the pull and grind of the fierce wind began to wear him down. With a heavy heart, he took off the harness and left the tree behind, knowing his chances were better without it. He hung onto Cassie's leash as they battled the hellish storm together. Inch by inch they went on into the supernatural whiteness, leaving the tree behind to be buried in its wake.

Sourdough

He had never been through anything of the like. The boy and dog were caught up in the worst blizzard Sourdough had ever seen while he watched from under a clear blue mountain sky. He wondered what manner of hoodoo it was that caused this phenomenon, how it was even possible. Not a single snowflake was falling on him while only feet away, the boy was fighting for his life. He continued to track them, watching in awe as the boy and dog painfully navigated their way through the blinding snow, lost in their own separate world.

Sourdough wondered what would happen if he were to run straight at them, if he could break through or somehow switch places with them. Whatever is happening, Sourdough knew that it was not of this world. He mulled over the sickening possibility that he was dead.

He saw the boy drop the tree. He'd figured that would happen, there really was no other choice given the situation. He didn't know why, but Sourdough felt a bit of sadness that he should have gone to so much trouble, only to leave the tree behind. Sourdough knew that the boy was trying to get back to his machine, but had gotten turned around in the storm. He felt a sudden protectiveness, seeing the boy as a kindred spirit. Sourdough figured that if this was it, if he had actually gone under, then he might as well be useful.

Sourdough ran ahead of the boy, still completely untouched by the storm and got out in front of him. He could see that the boy was really tiring, he would need to act quickly if there was to be any chance of survival. His cabin was just a few yards ahead, if the boy could reach it, he would have shelter. That is, if his cabin still existed in whatever world the boy and his dog inhabited. The dog locked eyes with him through the strange barrier, barking loudly at Sourdough, pulling on the leash and dragging the boy forward. This is it, he thought in sudden joy, this will be his salvation! Sourdough focused all of his energy and let out a whistle that would wake the dead, hootin' and a hollerin' as loud as he could and praying that the dog would follow his lead.

CJ

CJ had never been so tired in all of his life. He tried to focus on every step, willing his feet forward as the relentless wind and cold battered at him. Cassie stayed right by him, every inch the fighter. He would hate to be the cause of her demise. She really had been his very best friend. He wondered if his parents would ever discover where he was, for surely they would find his truck up here someday.

"No! You mustn't give up! Keep moving!" In his mind he could hear his mother talking to him, see his father's face cheering him on, just like he had at one of his old football games: "Never give up, CJ! Compete! Be your best!"

Again, the bizarre ringing sounds danced around in his head as he continued his futile march against the turbulent storm. He went on for what seemed like a lifetime when he decided that a little rest was just what he needed. If he could stop to close his eyes for just a moment, he would build up the strength to make it back. Just for a minute, no longer.

All of a sudden Cassie went completely crazy, barking and yanking at her leash, almost knocking him over. CJ was instantly jolted awake, scrabbling to stay on his feet and keep up with the dog. She was on a mission. He had never seen her so determined. She pulled him forward at an unrelenting pace, forcing him to follow. He was too exhausted to put up much of a fight, allowing her to take the lead in the hope that she was going in the right direction. On and on they went, dog dragging man until CJ ran headfirst into a hard surface. Snow blind, he put his hands out in front of him and felt the grooved surface of a notched log. He groped around in desperation, putting his frozen hands over every inch until he literally fell through the cabin door.

His first sensation was of Cassie licking his face, both of them miraculously out of the elements. He blinked and slowly looked around at his surroundings. He was in a small cabin. It was warm, the embers of a fire pit were still glowing. He kicked the door shut and fell facedown onto a makeshift pallet in one corner. His final thought was of the owner of the cabin and how he would react to finding him here, before sleep finally overtook him. Cassie curled up at his feet, alert and on guard as the merciless storm continued to rage all around them.

Sourdough

Sourdough whooped and hollered as the boy and dog finally made it into the cabin. He couldn't remember the last time he was so relieved about anything. This boy sure had gotten under his skin. He was still dumbstruck that his surroundings were clear and warm while the boy was caught in such a melee. He wasn't sure about the rules of his new situation, but felt an overwhelming urge to go inside and check on his boarder.

The dog was standing at attention, growling as menacingly as possible, which really wasn't much at all. Sourdough entered the room and saw that the boy was dead asleep, the fire just beginning to peter out. He stepped in and held his hand out tentatively to the dog, talking to her in the soothing tones that he always used with Sara whenever she was in a mood.

"Hello, Cassie old girl, I mean you no harm." Sourdough saw the dog relax just a little, but still wary and alert. He reached into his possibles bag and held out a piece of his pemmican jerky, Cassie stepped closer in curiosity.

"I just want to get a look at him, old girl, just for a moment," he said as Cassie reached his hand and gently took the offering. Sourdough patted her on the head, feeling a warmth spread through him that he hadn't felt since his Sara was alive.

He looked the boy over, making sure he was well and covered up. He checked each of his extremities for frostbite and piled him high with his warmest buffalo and deer skin blankets. The boy was lucky. His fingers and toes did not have the telltale signs of black. Sourdough made sure the boy was warm and kept the fire going throughout the night. He washed off his face and refilled the water bin for when the boy awoke the next day. He left out the remainder of his provisions and spent the rest of the night in Cassie's company, petting her soft fur before slipping out into the dawn.

Sourdough quietly made his way back down the hill, the unnatural, shimmering sky lighting his way through the darkness. As he reached the bottom, he could see something in the distance, leaning up against a large aspen tree. The ground around him was still clear as he headed over to the tree to investigate, finding the object partially buried under three feet of fresh snow.

He dropped to his knees and began to dig, his task becoming all the more urgent as he uncovered the frozen body of a man. He could feel his heart pounding out of his chest, or at least what he always thought was a beating heart, as he discovered the identity of the dead man at the base of the tree.

Sourdough let out a slow whistle between his teeth as he gazed upon his own grizzled countenance. Ol' Sourdough had finally gone under, he was well and truly dead, encased in an icy grave upon his own beloved mountain.

CJ

CJ woke up slowly, parts of the dream still playing in his head. (An old prospector? No. Free man. Mountain man. ) He slowly opened his eyes and saw Cassie laying at his feet. He was piled high with blankets, actually sweating in their warmth. He looked over and saw that there was a bin of water and some sort of food laid out on the table.

"Hello? Is there anyone here?" In response, Cassie came running over, licking him and jumping up in exuberance.

"How did we get here, girl?" he asked, trying hard to remember. He pulled on his socks and boots."What happened?"

He had vague recollections of fighting through the snow, the terrifying thought of being lost, the sudden horrific storm. The lost tree. He jumped up and threw the cabin door open, expecting the snow to fall in all around him. What he saw actually caused him to gasp in amazement.

The land as far as he could see was bone dry with not a bit of snow in sight, the sun shining down on a perfect winter morning. He stepped out in shock, wondering about his sanity. He looked at the little cabin and walked all around it in complete astonishment. Something caught his eye at the very back of the cabin, a small wooden cross. He walked over to it and saw that it was very old, had been battered and worn throughout many long years.

It simply said "Sara."

CJ and Cassie found their way down the mountain pretty easily. Now that the snow was gone, it didn't take them very long at all. CJ was still trying to decide if he was delusional, combing every inch of the land, looking for any sign of snow as they hiked back to the road. Cassie was her usual, spirited self, leading them down the mountain with gusto. As they turned onto the final bend and his truck came looming into view, CJ felt a sudden jolt of shock. For there, propped up against his old Ford, was the tree. All trussed up and ready to go. Silent tears ran down his face as he reached the truck, placing his hand upon the trunk of the tree in pure wonder. He said a silent prayer as he loaded it up, Cassie taking her usual spot in the front seat. They drove away with the warm winter sun beaming down and not a single cloud in sight.

Sourdough

Sourdough had to admit that his old cabin had never looked so good. CJ had turned into quite a man over the years, coming up to Santa Fe mountain and making his old shelter into a home. The man had kept the original cabin right where it was and built up a great big new one next to it, notching the logs one by one just as Sourdough had done way back when. He had left the old cabin intact, sprucing it up in fine fashion, better than Sourdough could have ever imagined. His family would come here every Christmas, the man taking everyone up to the clearing where he had found his original tree and telling them the story of Sourdough's cabin. Sourdough would stay on the outskirts, feeling like he was part of the family in some small way, proud to bursting of the man the boy had become.

He didn't know why he still lingered on the mountain after all these years, but he didn't mind. His mountain was always a kind of heaven for him, a fitting place for an old mountain man to spend eternity.

Cassie ran over to CJ, tail wagging. The years had been kind to her, only the snow white of her face marking the passage of time. They turned and walked together over to where two small children were running and playing. The man took the little boy's hand and placed it gently onto the trunk of a pine tree. The girl moved in to join them as the man beamed with pride, carefully handing his daughter the old ax and letting her have the first swing.

Sourdough smiled at the sight of them, happy beyond all measure that they were a part of this land. The inheritors of his mountain. Off in the distance, he could hear the sound of a mule braying. He looked over and saw his Sara waiting for him under the glorious backdrop of a Rocky Mountain winter sky. Finally, after all this time, she had come for him.

He said a silent prayer, thanking The Man Above once again for making him a free, mountain man and went to join his old friend. He and Sara set out, ready to take on their new adventure, eager to see what was over the next hill. Together again at long last.