So I get a phone call around 9:30 tonight. I won't say what I was doing at the time, but I will say it was something I don't get to do very often now that I have little kids. And the phone call did not come at a welcome time.
The guy on the phone was the guy who heads up our local Hash House Harriers running club. He tells me that he just received a phone call from "Spreading Crack" who is lost in the jungle with his girlfriend, and doesn't know how to get out. So, he called me up because he didn't want to go out looking for him alone.
Great. So I pack up my rescue bag - a couple bottles of water, two headlamps, a baggie of extra batteries, white flagging tape (so I don't get lost too), gloves, and my machete, and wait for him to come pick me up.
He shows up with his teenage daughter in the car. Why she is with us, I don't know. Neither does she - he soon starts calling around to find someone to drop her off with while we go on our rescue mission. She's all "But I want to come, too!" but she's wearing shorts and flip-flops. Totally inappropriate!
We end up driving all around the island to go borrow a flashlight from the Duty Free Store security guard (my friend is a manager there), drop his daughter off, and finally start heading up the hill to rescue Spreading Crack. All the while, I am being put on two-minute cell phone conversations with the guy, listening to his descriptions of where he is ("Wel, the moon is on my left, and there's a red beacon on top of a mountain in front of me, so I think I'm facing south. Oh yeah, and I'm right on the edge of a grassy patch. Does that help?" No!
Now you see, Spreading Crack is probably 275 pounds and 7 feet tall, and his Korean girlfriend is probably 90 pounds and 4'6". I'm imagining myself spending 3 or 4 hours searching for him, and then somehow trying to carry his dehydrated ass out of the jungle, while his girlfriend bitches him out in Korean.
Well, it couldn't have been easier. On one of the phone calls, he asked me if there was "anything to gain" by walking toward the west. I didn't know, but I was desperate NOT to have to spend all night looking for him, so I said "sure!" So by the time we finally made it up to the mountain and got on the road where we were going to start our search, he told me that he could see headlights through the grass, and then we honked our horn, and I could hear it on the cell phone, and then he suddenly emerged from the elephant grass on the side of the road about 50 feet away from us.
That Jackass had been circling around a patch of jungle less than 100 feet from the road the whole time. Oh well. I didn't even have to get out of the car, so it worked out pretty well for me.
Looks like it's time for a re-naming! Any suggestions for a better name than "Spreading Crack", based on this debacle?
The guy on the phone was the guy who heads up our local Hash House Harriers running club. He tells me that he just received a phone call from "Spreading Crack" who is lost in the jungle with his girlfriend, and doesn't know how to get out. So, he called me up because he didn't want to go out looking for him alone.
Great. So I pack up my rescue bag - a couple bottles of water, two headlamps, a baggie of extra batteries, white flagging tape (so I don't get lost too), gloves, and my machete, and wait for him to come pick me up.
He shows up with his teenage daughter in the car. Why she is with us, I don't know. Neither does she - he soon starts calling around to find someone to drop her off with while we go on our rescue mission. She's all "But I want to come, too!" but she's wearing shorts and flip-flops. Totally inappropriate!
We end up driving all around the island to go borrow a flashlight from the Duty Free Store security guard (my friend is a manager there), drop his daughter off, and finally start heading up the hill to rescue Spreading Crack. All the while, I am being put on two-minute cell phone conversations with the guy, listening to his descriptions of where he is ("Wel, the moon is on my left, and there's a red beacon on top of a mountain in front of me, so I think I'm facing south. Oh yeah, and I'm right on the edge of a grassy patch. Does that help?" No!
Now you see, Spreading Crack is probably 275 pounds and 7 feet tall, and his Korean girlfriend is probably 90 pounds and 4'6". I'm imagining myself spending 3 or 4 hours searching for him, and then somehow trying to carry his dehydrated ass out of the jungle, while his girlfriend bitches him out in Korean.
Well, it couldn't have been easier. On one of the phone calls, he asked me if there was "anything to gain" by walking toward the west. I didn't know, but I was desperate NOT to have to spend all night looking for him, so I said "sure!" So by the time we finally made it up to the mountain and got on the road where we were going to start our search, he told me that he could see headlights through the grass, and then we honked our horn, and I could hear it on the cell phone, and then he suddenly emerged from the elephant grass on the side of the road about 50 feet away from us.
That Jackass had been circling around a patch of jungle less than 100 feet from the road the whole time. Oh well. I didn't even have to get out of the car, so it worked out pretty well for me.
Looks like it's time for a re-naming! Any suggestions for a better name than "Spreading Crack", based on this debacle?
