The repetitive morning routine couldn’t put a damper on my mood. Sleeping in the corner of the room on the floor was no bother. I’d wake up, check my phone, check on my three cousins sprawled out all over the room, and then I would get ready. Once ready, I would pull a chair up to the windowsill, face it east, and prop my feet up. I would watch the sunrise every morning while I was in Moab. I was going through a hard time before this trip during Spring Break, had come up. Every morning I had the sun rise to reflect upon the blessings that I was receiving. The contrast from a dark morning to the gradual light over the mountains was almost exactly how I was feeling. I was in a dark place, I had often asked myself, “Why me? Why now? What did I do to deserve this?”, and since this trip, there had come a light that seemed to break over me.
The colors of the sunrise would just be those extra blessing I was receiving: our safety, laughter, family, friendship, life, and love. Then the sun rising itself would equal to the general aspect of my life. The sun rises with a complex mixture of science and although it looks real simple, the complexity of it is beyond anyone’s capability of thinking. As I was sitting there thinking of the recent days it was easy to smile to myself, there was no force, it was natural. I began thinking that with the overwhelming amount of family, friends, fun and love I had had that possibly it was like the sun. Love, family, friends and fun were my complex system of sciences that would make me capable of getting up every day with a smile on my face.
Once the sun had risen, my Uncle Tim would walk out from his room, wake his kids and instead of waiting for all of them to get up, he and I would walk to the conference room where the hotel provided a breakfast. There we would also meet up with another family that was joining us that week, the Shelley’s. Both families would gather, eat and then we would decide where we would go riding that day. Today was different. It was our last day in Moab. My Uncle had some family friends that had moved, years prior to this, down to this area. We were to load up our hotel room, check out, do our last bit of shopping, meet that family and then head out to the trail. In our hurry that morning we forgot to say our morning family prayer. After loads of material from our hotel room, running back and forth and up and down three flights of stairs we were ready to go shopping. After a short half hour of locating our desired items, we packed up again and drove down the street to meet up with the family that had moved down here, the Barrett’s.
Onion Creek, the trail that was talked about all week. It was to be the easiest, and simplest of the trails we would embark upon all week. Just the day before, we conquered the riding area, Hells Revenge, the trail names alone should be able to tell the difference in difficulty. Onion Creek was also a dirt road, a road that cars drove on in a valley area to get to multiple camp sites. The anticipation almost controlled our actions as we unloaded the Quads and Dirt Bikes. After some time we began our ride. In all, we had about 20 vehicles. The leader was my Uncle Tim, his youngest daughter, me, his wife, and ending our long line was the father of the Barrett family in his Jeep with his wife and two children. From beginning to end, we were to cross Onion Creek 27 times, through a valley area, turn around and retrace our route in order to get back to where we began. Around mile 5 we all gathered together to see how everyone was and get an update; something my Uncle makes sure to do each time he rides with a group. After everyone had confirmed they were ready to go, we started out again. After riding a few hundred feet, Uncle Tim stood up and looked back to make sure all was well and then the unthinkable happened.
I remember glancing back as he did, then looking up ahead of me. The images will be forever embedded into my memory. The front tires rolling off the edge of the cliff, dust, and my Uncle’s feet. My cousin in front of me stopped and got off her ATV as she realized what had happened. My instinctive reactions came out in full force and I hopped off my dirt bike, told my cousin to stop screaming in terror, and I began to run. I ran down a hill stripping off every unnecessary item I had on: my backpack, helmet, goggles, and gloves. Within a minute or two I had sprinted down a hill, slid down a 70 degree slanted slope, run an additional 10 feet, jumped down five feet to the bottom of the cliff, and then run another 30 feet to where my Uncle was. The first thing I remember seeing was Uncle Tim lying face down in the water. The thoughts that ran through my mind were along the lines of, “He can’t be dead” or “He’s fine!”, but when that’s the first thing you see, and you put all things into consideration, how could he be “just fine”? By this time my cousin, Kameron, Tim’s only son, had caught up to me. We raced to my Uncle who was lying face down in the water. Kameron got to him first and flipped him over. Together we pulled him out of the water, and onto the embankment. Thankfully the stream was only six inches deep. He was unconscious while we were pulling him out and was not breathing. The thoughts that went through my head when I realized this, was hard to accept. Kameron informed me that the best idea was to take his helmet off. We fought for a quick moment on whether or not that was actually the best idea, not knowing the full extent of his injuries, then I finally gave in. While pulling his helmet off, he became conscious. I can remember him looking back and forth at Kameron and me as we talked about what we should do. When he finally made a noise, relief washed over me. Although I was already calm and collected, the relief seemed more of an acknowledgement that everything would be okay. Tina, Uncle Tim’s wife, rushed down the hill to our side. Kameron and I backed off to let her talk to him so she would be reassured he was alright for the time being.
The bonding that my cousin and I had just shared was quickly swept away by the overwhelming smell of gasoline. In the hurry to get down to Uncle Tim we had completely forgotten about his ATV, which miraculously laid nearly 12 feet from where my Uncle was lying. The ATV lying on its side, seat completely detached, and its front left wheel nearly torn off, showed that it took the full force of the fall. We decided that since it was leaking gasoline that the best idea was to flip it right side up. As soon as that was done, we weren’t sure what to do next. Kameron decided he would go and reassure the group of what was happening and to move the ATV’s and dirt bikes to a better location instead of in the road. While that was being taken care of, my Uncle’s oldest daughter, Taylor, drove to a spot where she could get cell reception and called for an ambulance.
Being a physical therapist, my Uncle was able to explain what he thought was broken and the best way position him for the most comfortable position in the current situation. Physically I was there, but emotionally I wasn’t. It seemed like some other being was controlling me, which by all means was perfectly fine, because I was able to be emotionally strong for my family. He believed his pelvis was broken and we needed to prop up one leg for him to be comfortable. We definitely felt lucky that the seat from his ATV had fallen off because it was the perfect shape and size that we needed. A lot of the positions required items to prop his arms up or his neck. I became the messenger during the wait for the ambulance to come, but I made sure I didn’t step far away from my Uncle’s side, because it was too much for me to handle. Not knowing what was happening.
It seemed like hours before any medical help arrived and when they did I was scooted away. The EMT’s needed space for them to do their jobs correctly and making sure everyone, except Uncle Tim’s wife, was away guaranteed that there would be no interruptions. I rejoined our group and looked people directly in the eye instead of beating around the bush. There was a very gloomy feeling blanketing our group and as I encountered that feeling, I began cracking jokes, in order to lighten the feeling. It helped, but we all were thinking the same thing in the back of our mind. In no time they had Uncle Tim on a stretcher and some guys from our group to help carry him up to the ambulance. Shortly after, the Life Flight Helicopter arrived to pick him up and fly him to the nearest hospital in Grand Junction, Colorado.
The drive to Grand Junction was a sad ordeal. We sang church hymns to bring the Spirit into the car so we would receive comfort. It helped to a great extent. We made phone calls to a couple people to let them know what was going on. Then they called around and let other family and friends know; and the word spread. After hours in the car we finally made it to Grand Junction and eventually found our way to St. Mary’s Hospital there. I was coated in mud from my shins down and still soaked in water, as was my Aunt. We found out that Uncle Tim had been moved from the ER to ICU. All of us cousins sat in the hallway in front of the ICU doors so we could get news immediately about him. He was doing well. After we all seen him and knew that he was okay we made our way to the home the hospital has for patients’ families, which was just a block from the hospital. We took turns taking showers and winding down from an emotionally stressful day.
Aunt Tina went back to the hospital for the night. My younger cousins stayed in the room and watched TV. My older cousin walked around and talked to friends on the phone. I gave my parents and best friend, Philip, a call. The shock began to wear off while talking to my parents, and I was an unstable emotional mess. When I finally got on the phone with Philip, he was able to calm me down and really comfort me. He didn’t try to make me laugh, but he seemed to know what to say that would help me get through the ordeal until I was able to get home.
“What seems to us as bitter trials are often blessings in disguise.” -Oscar Wilde.
