5-26-26 / 1,876 words
Nonfiction – These events took place this past weekend
Generally speaking, turtles in Kansas do not usually have much say in the timing of a wedding on any particular day and in that regard most, if not all, such reptiles in the state can be counted on to go about the business of doing the their turtley activities with little regard to the day’s nuptials. This fact is comforting to most mammals that might think about such things, myself – and I dare say my wife Julie – included. And so, we were taken completely by surprise when three rogue reptilians came out of nowhere and upended our plans while on our way to one of life’s most celebrated events. While it could be said we had three other traveling companions – two goldfish and a nervous housecat – we were nonetheless outnumbered when the call to action came.
It was late May. Julie’s cousin was getting married in Gypsum, Kansas on the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend and we arranged our cross-country driving plans to attend the celebration. Feeling a bit lazy as regards the distance, we decided to take our time getting there by spending three days to complete the 24 hour drive. By leaving Wednesday morning we’d easily make it to Kansas by Friday night and have almost an entire day to relax before the vows. Unbeknownst to us, at about the same time, three meek, and seemingly harmless turtles began their plotting.
Alas we didn’t leave Wednesday morning. We left about 4:00pm, so we only got about 5 hours under our belts that day. No worries – two more days at about 10 hours each would keep us on schedule. But – there’s often one or more significant “buts” in these sorts of adventures – on Thursday I noticed the route we were traveling was going through some of our favorite geologic terrain – the colorful buttes and canyonlands of southern Utah. Not only that, but (there’s another one) amidst these high desert exposures were some excellent rock-collecting sites we had visited several years earlier. So I suggested to Julie we make a slight detour – of 8 hours, it turns out! – to camp at Black Rock Spring among the cactus, sage, and goldfish. Yes, goldfish. And yes, in the desert. This spring happens to be the home of about three dozen multicolored goldfish who keep the catchment tank clean year-round.
We spent a glorious desert evening enjoying the sunset and slept soundly that night. The next morning we collected some excellent obsidian from the hills around us, cleaned up at the spring, then hit the road again to get to Kansas. It was now Friday afternoon and we still had 14 hours to go. It was obvious we wouldn’t be there that night as planned, but if we drove until late that evening, we’d still get there in plenty of time. We made pretty good time and stopped for the night in eastern Colorado near the Kansas border.
The next day we hit the road early and figured we’d get to Gypsum by 3:00. We were cutting it close and the clock was ticking. Then, at a truck stop along the Interstate, we were confronted with a bit of a problem. When I was fueling the Edward Furthermore, a Middle Eastern woman approached me and said “I see you were sparkling…” Huh? While such a phrase is plausible at an Independence Day Parade or New Years Eve party, it was neither of those and I was thus momentarily confounded by the declaration.
Yes, I saw it! You were sparkling! she declared more emphatically while pointing at the vehicle we were towing. This tow-behind was a minivan passed on to us by Julie’s parents when they exited the planet. The license plate reads POTE 87 – a nod to the fact that in 1987 John had been a Potentate with the Shriners.
Sparkling? It finally dawned on me that what the woman was trying to say was that she saw sparks coming out from under the towing dolly. I looked and discovered one of the chains holding the vehicle in place had come loose. Then I saw the tie-down straps holding the tires were almost completely unraveled – a dangerous situation to be sure. This took some 30 minutes to rectify. Once we were back on the road, our adjusted arrival time looked to be 3:30.
I stepped on the gas in an effort to make up some of the lost time. It gained us about 10 minutes, so by the time we were exiting the Interstate near Gypsum we were breathing a little easier. But then the Three Musketeers entered the picture. Kansas, it turns out, has sleeper cells…
Whenever we travel and wherever we go, we’re always on the lookout for animals that may need help. We’ve made countless rescues and assisted rescues. As I zoomed up the off-ramp of the highway, I saw a familiar shape on the shoulder and pulled over once we got to the top of the ramp. With sack in hand, I ran back down the ramp and found a plate-sized turtle on the edge of the pavement, intending to get across. Luckily, he wasn’t hurt so I picked him up and put him in the sack, intending to find him a new, safer home away from the road.
I was about to head back to the Edward when I saw another turtle emerge from the grass several dozen yards away, heading directly onto the road. I ran down and barely made it in time – it was nearly in the path of the vehicles flying up the ramp when I scooped it into the sack as well.
I headed back to the Edward, two reptiles in hand. While trudging up the road, I glanced back and saw yet another way farther down. But I was too late – she was already in the road and scampering across with determination. What the hell, I thought. Do turtles march around in little guerrilla groups? In the space of a few minutes, I’d found three. One for all and all for one, apparently.
I stood frozen for an instant as the cars whizzed past. To my surprise she kept going. Unlike the first two, this one had no hesitation whatsoever. She crossed the highway – traffic-be-damned – with the unwavering resolve of someone late for a duel. By pure luck, she made it across the pavement unsquashed. However, that now placed her in a confined triangle of grass bounded on all sides by heavily trafficked highway. She may have been lucky this time, but the odds were against her once she realized she had to keep going. So I ran across the road, bounded down the pavement and added her to the sack. The Three Musketeers were safe. But now what?
When I got back to the Edward, I handed to Julie a grocery sack with three turtles in it. Unflummoxed, she immediately began looking for suitable places to rehome them: a river, lake, or nearby pond. As we pulled back onto the road, I looked at the clock – 3:10. We still had 50 minutes before the wedding, and the address looked to be about 20 minutes away.
We headed clanging-along down the rural dirt road. In a few miles we came upon an old, abandoned quarry filled with water – what an ideal place! – and pulled into the large dirt parking area adjacent to it. I got out and took the Sack-O-Turtles over to the edge. But it was way too steep to get near the water. I raced back and forth along the edge looking for a safe way down and never found one. Dejected, I went back to the Edward and handed the reptiles back over to Julie.
Because of the way the U-haul towing dolly is constructed, you cannot back it up like a regular trailer. In fact, you cannot back it up at all! Despite the warnings, I’ve tried it and learned that you inevitably – and very quickly! – jack-knife the vehicles. The only option is forward, making a large circle as you turn around. So when I got back in the driver’s seat, I put Edward into 4WD and set about making a big circle in the dirt.
Only it wasn’t dirt. It was mud – what they call “gumbo. It clings tenaciously and builds up on your boots very quickly. The farther around the circle I went, the deeper the gumbo got. Stopping would certainly invite disaster, so I figured it was best to keep moving. I got 2/3rds of the way around when, despite the 4WD, the mud got so deep it stopped us cold. We were stuck and stuck good!
The clock read 3:20. Obviously our timeline was now totally screwed and that would be that for our attendance at the wedding. We’d been thwarted by three conspiratorial painted turtles. The guerrilla cell sat smugly, evidently pleased with the success of the operation.
I got out and surveyed the situation. The best option was to disconnect the Pote from its dolly and hope to get the Edward out on its own once the weight of the Pote was removed. Then, if necessary, have the Edward pull the Pote out using my climbing rope – which could do it, I’ve done it before! – but it destroys the rope for use in climbing and they are not cheap.
My boots were so caked in mud that I had a hard time lifting them to walk. There had to be 10” of clay stuck to the bottoms. After filling the driver’s side floor with about 5 inches of mud from my boots, I finally got the Pote disconnected and off the tow dolly. By the grace of the Great Spirit, with that dead weight now removed I was able to drive – read “swim” – the Edward through the gumbo and back onto dirt. In similar fashion I drove the Pote in the same tracks back to terra-firma. At least we didn’t need to call a tow truck! Nor did we need to use the climbing rope. Then came the joy of reconnecting it all.
This whole time, the Three Musketeers remained quiet in their sack, presumably discussing the next phase of their operation. When we finally got ready to hit the road again it was 3:45 and we still hadn’t off-loaded the reptiles. I discussed it with Julie and she had a suggestion. I grabbed the sack, and headed over to the edge. The water was about 30 feet below with no way to get to it. Except…. One by one I pulled out the rogue reptiles, said a little prayer, and launched them over the cliff into the lake below. By the time the third one hit the water, the first one had surfaced for air and was singing Hallelujah.
The rescue was a complete success, albeit at the expense of the wedding. Or so we thought. I retook the driver’s seat – sweaty, grimy, and covered with mud. We took off down the road to Gypsum, smiles on our faces. As it turned out, we got there just in time.
Kansas, we had learned, was not to be trusted.