Behind every situation
Behind every situation there is a hidden meaning. Sometimes this can be some type of subliminal message conveyed or carried out as a result of many factors like karma, fate, or destiny, but the true meaning holds the answer yet is all in the eyes of the beholder. For instance, everyone has been some place and experienced a weird feeling like, “what if I was there..?” or “What if I had boarded that plane..?” “What if I had accepted the invitation and I was there when that happened..? Would of, could of, should of are all things we say when it comes to remembering the past and thinking about buying stalk in Apple 30 years ago, but in other situations the only thing to say is, “Thank (god) I was not there.”
Whatever the situation, sometimes the fate that we are delivered, no matter how depressing or miserable at the moment, may be better then the alternative. Sometimes the grass is greener on the other side of the fence, but maybe that grass is only green because of chemicals and toxins applied in order to make it thrive vindictively. In the situation I experienced the other day, any grass was greener then my bed or the couch where I was forced to remain in as a result of a few broken ribs, however, the call I received a few days later explaining what I had missed made my day on the couch seem like a day at 1900’s brothel.
I was invited on a trip to go explore a remote location to shoot some ski photography. Like I mentioned, I had to decline the invitation as a result of some fracture ribs that I suffered a few days before – luckily. Make a long story short, the group ventured out despite my absence, but afterward they wished they had been in bed with me. To sugarcoat the situation would do it no justice, but needless to say they had an experience they would all never forget.
After leaving the trail head at 5:00am to take photos at sun rise, they were hoping to ski a face that was directly east facing and had great light in the morning was their goal, although as the photographer dropped on to the face to get into position, the whole face slid to the ground leaving the entire area un-ski-able. It took the photographer for a short ride, but the snow slid so quickly it left him standing in the middle of the slope almost on grass. He realized he was in trouble when the slope started moving so he had unfortunately dropped the midget sized backpack full of camera equipment. At the time it was the best call, as the 50lbs would sure be the end of him had be been buried. Luckily he was able to self- arrest– but the bag went to the bottom and was buried.
After spending three hours digging to find the bag, they hiked to another zone in a last effort to get some photos out of the day. They skinned up to another peak, but as the first athlete prepared to make a few turns on a slope, and maybe get some work done, he broke his binding stepping into his ski. At this point the snow gods had spoken and sent them a strong message, so they willingly hiked back to where they had left the snowmobiles to graciously walk away unscathed. However, as they walked up to where they had parked the sleds, they noticed something was not right. While they had been out, the sun had wormed the snow so much it had created a flow of water below the snow surface. Therefore, the weight of the sled was enough to find a hollow spot in the snow, and had fallen through to the creek it was unknowingly parked on top of. At this point they were baffled and astonished by their stroke of bad luck. They could only laugh at the situation and start digging a path to get it out. They dug and dug for a few hours, as the sled was many feet below the snow level and in the creek. However to make things worse, as they started to load up and excitedly get back to the cars to go home, one of the other sleds would not start. They pulled and pulled on the starter cord, but with one last thrust the cord snapped and the now unguided energy of the pullers hands followed through and hit the other guy standing behind him in the nose. The force was enough to make is nose start to bleed profusely, but furthermore the sled was kaput.
They were left in the back country with four people, one snowmobile, minimal daylight, remaining, no more food, and miles ahead of them in order to get back to the cars. Frantic, frustrated, and I am sure astonished by what they had experienced, they tied some ropes and straps together and stared towing each other to the trail head. However, the snowmobile was not designed for towing three people and not long into the journey the belt snapped. After spending the time necessary to change out the spare, they could not get the clutch to spin. Supposedly some pieces of the belt sheared off and clogged the wheels that make the clutch spring engage, so without the proper tools and experiences it meant this sled was kaput as well.
At this point I was home on the couch most likely enjoying my third movie of the day, as these guys were out in the back country-exchanging expletive after expletive trying to make sense of the situation. However, light was fading and their options were limited. Flabbergasted and without a doubt on the last string of patience for the day, they started to walk. Fifteen hours after they had left the cars that morning, they walked up to the parking lot. With two empty trailers, they drover home; defeated, angry, but more perplexed by the situation then anything.
I received a call a few days later explaining what I had missed. I really had no response except, “Shitty!” Overwhelmed by what I was hearing, I was somewhat elated to have declined the offer, but more shocked such ironic and implausible misfortune had become a reality.
“Next time you’ll get the cover shot guys.”