THE BEST LAID PLANS . . .

I refer to it as “The Great Fernie Debacle.” The story is a cross between “Charlie on the MTA” (Did he ever return?) and Gilligan’s Island (a 3-hour, i.e. short, cruise).

One of the Montana geocaches required that Mike return to complete a certain part, so he planned the trip as a short adventure. Leaving Monday (July 21), he would travel into Canada through north Idaho, spend Monday night in Fernie, BC, then re-enter the States and spend Tuesday night at Great Falls, returning to the town house Wednesday evening. That was the plan. I/we tried to think it through and cover all the bases. We learned that cellphone calls from Canada would be 85 cents a minute – and that’s over budget -- so of course, I didn’t expect to hear from him until he reached Great Falls.

“No news is good news,” we always say, whether it’s true or not. Tuesday evening, just as I was picturing Mike in Great Falls, he sent a succinct message from Fernie. The motorcycle had “conked out” Tuesday morning, he said, and had to be towed back to Fernie for repairs. Getting parts was a problem. He would call in the morning.

In communication Wednesday morning, I learned that he was stranded in Fernie until the Triumph was fixed, hopefully by Friday. Not many people really needed to know about this development, but I did call Mike’s hunting / fishing buddy Ken to tell him that Mike would not be available to fish on Friday as planned. Ken immediately offered to go to Mike’s aid, but I pointed out that if he left the motorcycle behind, he would just have to go back and get it. As we discussed the details, a tiny chortle escaped to my hearing.

“I’m sorry,” said Ken.

“Don’t apologize,” I said. “No one was hurt. No one died. It’s just inconvenient -- and even a little funny.”

So we laughed. I felt a little guilty knowing that Mike wasn’t laughing – that he was really stressed and upset, but I also knew that one day he would laugh, too.

Even though I was low on basic provisions, like bread and milk, I stayed at the farm where the dogs and I were content. I started layering my Halloween quilt, and I was glad to have the time to leave it on the dining room table and cogitate over it – spreading it out, taking it up, and starting the process all over again. No one was asking when I’d be finished or feeling sorry for me. I know it’s a much better “sandwich” than if I’d had to hurry. 

And so, we met in town last night. The dogs were s-o-o-o-o glad to see Mike ride in. Okay -- I was glad, too. He was hot, tired, and hungry.

So, as we settled on grilled pork chops for supper tonight, I remarked that that’s what we had last Sunday. “That was eons ago!” said Mike. It seems so to me, too. KW