45. I’m In Deep Sh*t!

“I’m in deep sh*t.”

That’s all my text said at 6:34am on the morning of April 29th, 2020. That’s all it needed to say. The picture following those words said the rest.

Well, it wouldn’t be fair to dive into the middle of such a story as this and leave out the events leading up to it. So, let me rewind a little and start again. I mentally press the “<<” button on my memory box. Apparently my memories are stored in VCR tapes and I access them via my family's old VCR player that I still imagine sitting under my parents long gone massive 80 lb box shaped Panasonic TV. Let me take us back roughly three months prior… 

“Would you be willing to go on a blind date with a friend of mine?” My friend Mel from Dallas texted me. “Sure, at the very least it would make for a good story right?” I fired back. Well, that blind date led to a second date, third, fourth, fifth…you get the picture. I had been swooned. Swept off my feet if you will. I was a goner. Maybe I’ll retell that adventure another time. But for the sake of pertinacity let me take us forwards forty-five days “>>”. So I wanted Han to have a van adventure with me. I mean, shoot…I had just spent the last 6 months of my life living out of Pearl traveling the West. If this girl and I were going to make it the distance, she had to be down for adventure. So, a vanventure in northwest Arkansas with my new girlfriend was set in the books. Now that the plot has been laid, may the action resume…

Pressing “Dismiss” on the Severe Thunderstorm warning on my phone, I continued barreling westward on interstate 40. Little Rock was 50 miles behind me and the rain was coming down much like a heavyweight boxing match, a few minutes of torrential pounding and then as if the bell sounded, 120 seconds of peaceful bliss. Then back to war it would go, off and on, off and on. After 40 minutes of this heavyweight bout, it finally gave in and let Pearl and me roll smoothly down the dark interstate. “Whoop whoop” a siren came to life and the flash of police lights lit up the night. “Aghhhhh…” moaning with frustration, I knew what had happened. I just had to reach down to try to find the bag of homemade granola Hannah had sent me. My tires slowly drifted over the rumble strips and looking up, I brought Pearl back in between the lanes but it was too late. What the policeman saw was a drunk driver drifting in and out of his lane. After a brief conversation with the officer and assuring him I hadn't been drinking, I was let off with a warning. Quite the eventful drive, I thought. Oh how little I knew that it was just beginning. I approached Hwy 49 going north, which would take me the rest of the way up to XNA airport where I’d be picking Hannah up at 8am the following morning. It was approaching midnight and I figured the little town of Alma would be a good place to find a stop for the night. After a quick search Clear Creek Park Campground on Frog Bayou popped up. Pulling in, grabbing a spot, and readying Pearl for sleep was comforting. It reminded me of the countless nights I had done the same thing across the western US for 164 days. Looking at the clock, it read 12:40am, “I’ll grab a little shut eye and pick up my lady in the morning, adventure awaits.” I thought. And yes it did. 

At 6:23am with my eyes half closed I texted Han, “Did you make the flight??”. “Yes! Was just going to text you to drive safe and not rush! We are about to take off.” She replied. I fired back, “I had some anxiety that I was going to get a text from you saying that you missed your flight!!! Well get ready! You’re about to join this van adventure!” “So excited!” She exclaimed. I put my phone down and let my eyes go back to their preferred morning state of complete darkness. Laying there thinking about the adventure we were about to have brought a sleepy smile to my face. I figured I’d rest my eyes for another ten minutes or so before starting to make moves. Darkness and silence graced my peaceful morning in Pearl until…gullup…my brow furrowed…gullup…my brain like a locomotive beginning it’s tortoise like forwards push began trying to process…gullup. My fridge is really the only thing that makes intermittent noises and it has never made a noise like that before, I thought. Gullup…still allowing my eyes to lay restfully closed my brain began searching for more possibilities…gullup…is that water? No. I was 40 yards from the creek when I had parked and even if it flooded surely it wouldn’t come up that much in less than 6 hours…gullup…my eyes began to creep open and they tried to focus on the cedar planks that line the roof of Pearl through the darkness. But even with good light, without my glasses or contacts, no amount of focusing or rubbing would bring them into clarity. I pulled the sheets off and dropped my feet down onto...sploosh. 

The sound and feeling of water on my feet injected enough adrenalin into me that would have brought a dead man back to life. I had twenty immediate half conjured thoughts stampeding through my brain at once “how could…” “why is…” “this can’t…” “am I still…” “no…” and then the locomotive wheels lurched forwards making one rapid fire full rotation “ACTION! Take action!” Frantically I reached and finding my glasses, jammed them on nearly breaking them on my face. “SPLOOSH!” I stepped towards the door and pulled it open. Water came surging into the van as if a dam had broke.  I immediately heaved the door back closed as my brain still trying to catch up with the situation. “I HAVE TO GET OUT!” My mental locomotive was going 200 miles an hour down the track now and focused on one thought. YOU’RE IN A FLASH FLOOD! GET OUT! I opened the door again and more water poured in equalizing with the level of the now brown debris ridden river that Pearl and I were a part of. Now thoughts were Formula 1 racing through my brain’s processing board, “get my essentials” “find dry socks because I’m going to have to run to go get help” “that’s dumb, my shoes are underwater” “can I drive out?” I rip the privacy curtain back and through the front windshield I see that water is over the motor already and nearly covering the hood. “Can’t drive out.” “Get the essentials” “is my phone still dry?” “Get my pistol” “I don’t have it, I left it at home” “Where’s my wallet?” “Get the keys” “Get the iPad” “It’s underwater already, leave it.” My brain has never considered so many courses of action so frantically. And then another thought crosses my mind, personal safety, “Am I in immediate danger?” Stepping out of Pearl the muddy river water comes up above my waist before my foot finds the ground. The current is pushing against me but it’s not so strong that I can’t wade through it. Turning around I reach back into Pearl, down into the muddy water towards my shoe drawer. Finding my tennis shoes I plunge my my feet into them sockless. “Socks don’t matter right now” my brain’s functioning is crisp and responsive now, ready to deal with this minute by minute worsening problem. As floating items begin to try to escape out Pearl’s door and head down river, I close the side door as best I could and began wading towards land. Finding a park bench with the bottom half submerged, I put my glasses down and with shaking hands I pressed my contacts into my eyes one at a time. Turning around, I looked at Pearl. I looked at the thousands of dollars this river was trying to wash away. Worse than than that, I looked at the hundreds of hours I had meticulously invested in every customized aspect of her that made her what she was. She was awaiting her final trip. Her trip to sea. “RUN!” I bounced back to crisis management mode and took off sprinting. To where? I don’t know. Help. Someone. Anyone. I rounded the corner and up the hill finding a lady sipping her morning coffee in her camper. Panting, I blurted out through the screen door, “Do you know where the campsite director is camped at?!” She started speaking but her southern twang caused her words to roll out like molasses and after she made it 7 words in without giving me an answer I took off running again. “I’ll find him.” I say more to myself out of frustration. Rounding the next bend I see a camper with a sign reading “Campsite Director” out front. Racing up the wooden steps I knock on the door frantically knowing that every minute, the water is rising around Pearl and at some point her weight will no longer keep her anchored. Tack tack tack tack! I repped off a few more aggressive knocks at the door. Looking down at my watch I realize it’s likely that at 6:47am this person may not even be awake yet. “I don’t have time for this!” I mutter as I take off running again. My pace is fast. Fast enough where I know that my ability to keep this pace is unfeasible. But shockingly, I feel no pain, no lactic acid building up as I race against time. I figure it is due to the adrenaline coursing through my bones and keep my cadence strong. “I need to find someone with a big truck and tow rope” I thought. “I am in backwoods Alma, AR, that should be possible, I just need to choose the right house.” I’m now passing the occasional home but not the kind of home you want to open the front gate to, pray that the dog stays asleep, and begin banging on the front door of. And not to mention to do this before 7am at that. In the steady rhythm of my sopping wet shoes slapping the pavement, “pray Mason…” sifted in and sat in my prefrontal cortex. “Pray”. So I did. In a time of need, a time of helplessness, a time of feeling the crushing weight of not being in control of a bad situation, I prayed. “Lord, I need you. I can’t do this. You can. I need help. I beg you, bring me help. You are in control. I am not. You can do this. I can’t. Please do this for me.” My feet were no longer cold, the remaining water sloshing in them felt warm from the sockless friction. Another straight away, another bend, another straight away. There! As I entered another straight stretch I saw movement. There was a truck pulling down his long gravel drive towards the road. Waving like an overly excited mom welcoming her daughter home from college at the airport, I entered full out sprint speed. If he turned the other way before seeing me, he’d be gone and I would have no chance of catching him. As he began his turn, his wheels came to a stop. “Thank you God!” He waited for me to make it to his truck. As I ran up to his truck it was difficult to get words out while trying to catch my breath. “I’m sorry I can’t help you directly,” his country accent said through his window back to me, “I have a drilling rig that I have to pull out of risin’ water myself. But I do have the home phone number of Karen, the owner of the towin’ company in town.” As I dialed the number I noticed it was 7:18am on his dashboard clock. “Hop in and I’ll take you back down to your car, that’s a fair distance you had to cover just to get here.” He didn’t care when I told him I was still wet waist down. A good man. A blessing. An answer to my prayer. 

When he dropped me off there were a couple bystanders watching Pearl sink lower and lower. One of which included Kelly, the first lady I encountered sipping coffee in her camper. I thanked the man again and he headed off to deal with his own crisis. Kelly came up to me and correctly guessed the dumbfounded blank look on my face as I just stood staring at Pearl meant I was owner. “Hey…” her soft voice began, “…I guess that van belongs to you?” “Unfortunately it does.” I said without moving my gaze. “Can I do anything for you? Can I call someone or get you something to eat or drink?” She asked. “No thanks, I got ahold of the tow company and they are on their way. Hopefully they show up before my van floats away.” We continue small talk for a few minutes until she asks if I had seen anyone in the camper a few spots over from mine. Frankly, I had forgotten about the interaction I had when I was wading towards the shore nearly an hour ago. “Ohh yeah, that guy is still there.” I replied. “He’s what!?” She looked at me quickly. “Yeah, when I was wading towards land he opened his front door, shouted a few choice words, said something towards me about ‘they should’ve warned us’ and then slamming his door closed he went back inside.” “Ohh my gosh!” Kelly exclaimed, “his van is nearly fully underwater and it has to be inside his camper! The water is two feet up his door!” “Yeah, and fully underwater he has a generator and a motorcycle” I added. “Should we call someone!?” She half asked and half announced as if wanting me to call 911. But my mind was too focused on the penetrating gaze I had on Pearl just awaiting the second for her to start drifting from the current. She called 911 and began explaining that there was a man not coming out of his camper as it was now 60 yards out in a flash flood river with water still rising. I couldn’t stand there and watch helplessly, I had too much adrenaline still coursing through my blood. “I’ll be back.” I said as I started to jog back up the hill to run out some of my nerves. Despite this run being much slower than the first, I grew winded and could feel the pain in my lungs and legs over my adrenaline now. At some point the park ranger and the sherif both passed me headed in the direction of the scene so I turned around and headed back. When I arrived back at ground zero, Kelly greeted me, “I brought down a hard boiled egg and some water for you, no one should start a day without something to eat and drink. And since all of your stuff is in your van, I figured I’d bring you something.” A good woman. A blessing. An answer to my prayer. 

As I sat on the ground peeling my hard boiled egg and drinking my water, Kelly and I watched as the sheriff perform a water rescue on the crazy man not wanting to leave his camper. What seemed like an eternity later, my tow truck arrived and started to pull Pearl from the river. 

An hour and a half later Hannah showed up in a rental car to take us back to Little Rock. 

Our vanventure was unforgettable, that’s for sure. 

But in the end, no one go hurt, and everybody got to go home. I guess the lesson here is, when it’s raining, park/camp far FAR FARRRRRR away from water. And when you see someone is in the middle of a crisis, don’t just tell them it will be ok, but give them a boiled egg, a bottle of water, and watch the ship go down standing next to them.