The morning came too quickly.  It was beautiful, sunny and promised to be seasonably hot later in the day.  It was preventing me from mustering the necessary motivation for packing up the essentials before the three and a half hour drive back to San Francisco. 

I didn't want to leave.  I dragged my heels as I loaded the cooler with food that would spoil if left behind.  My eyes found the hot tub on the deck and my inner voice pleaded for me to take a quick Jaquzzi before I dressed to leave.  It would relax the muscles in my back and the funky driving knee that ached so, after these weekly back and forth commuter trips between the city and the mountains.  Decided to just get going and resisted the inclination to stall my departure.

The contrast between the bustle of city and business and the lure of the mountain therapy, the sweet scent of pine and the laughter and hugs of my precious grand babies, was both nagging and intoxicating.  Hard to leave this morning and return to more commercial decisions, spreadsheets, traffic and to watch the distancing of the mountain peaks fade away in the rear view mirror.

"It'll be OK."  (she, my inner voice soothed)  "You'll be back on Friday."

The drive up and over the ridge always takes my breath away, leaving one of the most spectacular views on the planet.  The deep blue water of the lake, the miniscule landing strip at the local airport and the still visible burn of the massive acreage leveled from the worst fire in Tahoe's history, were all fading from my sight.  What follows each time, is an indescribable feeling of loss, sadness and let down, that can only be filled by the drive back to the Sierra's upon my habitual return.

Why, then, such a lowly feeling when I know so well how wonderful it always is to return to the Bay, to sea level, the cool moist air and the lush, sensual foliage that surrounds my home and hillside just outside one of the world's most coveted cities.  I did, indeed, possess the best of both worlds and considered myself quite lucky and very blessed.  With that, I settled in for the long drive back.

Winding down the mountain, alongside the American River, I could see that the water was unusually calm this early August morning.  So often I longed to pull over onto one of the rest stop areas along the river's edge and feel the cool sensation of pure snow melt around my ankles.  How many times I thought of doing this, I cannot say.  Likely, hundreds and hundreds.  Why, then, on this day, did my inner voice convince me to do this very impulsive thing; to indulge in childlike fantasy and simply play a little?  Could I spare the time?

"You can be down to the river and back in twenty, thirty minutes.  It's early.  You can make up the time on the highway below the mountain.  It's a perfect summer day.  You know you want to do it.  Why not?"

After checking behind and in front of me, I made the left hand turn to a place in the road along the river that would accommodate one, maybe two cars.  Many had been here before me with the same desire:  To descend to the river and take a dip or perhaps just to contemplate life outside of this place of serenity and beckoning.  The giant trees flanked each side of the calmly rushing river and a narrow, steep path led through the brush and rocks to the waiting river below.  Looked easy enough, yet my heart raced ahead of me as I began the anticipated descent.

Tripping on one loose stone on the way down, my not so happy knee sent a message to my brain.  "Watch it!  Careful, careful!  Not so fast!"  As there appeared to be no one else but me with this urge to explore, I chose my steps with extra caution till safely down to the river's edge.  Looking back up to see where I had been, I was a bit surprised at how long and steep the path looked from below street level.  "Did I lock the car?"  Surely, I had.  Leaving the keys on top of the driver's side wheel, I descended unencumbered, leaving all valuables, hidden purse and effects, tucked away in the belly of the window tinted SUV.  "I'll take my shoes off and take a quick dip in the refreshing water, up to my knees, most."  The thought of this was invigorating as I carefully tip-toed into the icy cold water, taking care not to disturb the larger rocks that could throw me off balance while creeping deeper into the water.  "Just a little more.  That felt so good."

The tingling numbness signaled me to turn and walk back to the shore, while prickly dry pine needles clung to my feet and ankles.  I easily found a fairly flat rock to sit on, under the shade of a large willow tree, some six to eight yards away from the trail.  The willows grow profusely near the river and provided shelter from the sun while I swiped off the pine needles and debris from my icy feet.  I was exhilarated by the little caper I managed to pull off, looking back toward the path that was just out of sight.

Feeling the sun through the breaks in the branches overhead warmed me.  Closing my eyes, I gave thanks to my maker for this magnificent day, the many blesssings in my life; for his beautiful blue eyes that danced in delight; for her deep brown almond eyes that sparkled with mischief.  How I missed them already.  "Time to head back up to the car and head home."

Sensing a cloud overhead must have blocked the sun, I opened my eyes and noticed first the twist in the river ahead of me.  It took a bend to the north and deeper forest concealed its direction.  Not visible from the road far above, a sudden chill filled my body first.  Something was there, looming close enough from behind I could smell the foul waft of decayed blood and mildew, mixed with unmistakable char of wood once burned.  I froze to my secure rock, keeping my eyes down.  "Do not look.  Do not identify.  I will not look.  I will not identify."

Lightness turned to darkness at once.  I dared not see.  "Could I help in any way?  Is there anything you need?  Can I talk you out of this?  There would be no negotiations.  The silent sharp push of the blade to my right side opened me in one short gush.  The warm liquid ran down my side and disappeared into my jeans.  The weight and purpose of its body pushed me forward and farther away from my rock, the trail back to the road and to my familiar journey.

I prayed once more.  Please Dear God, give me your safety and protection.  Please take care of my babies; let me see their eyes again, their smiles, their hugs, their precious little fingers and toes.  Please..."

                                                        *

Good God, forty-five minutes flew by.  I hardly remembered getting to the bottom of the mountain and onto the four laner.  Needed to put on the cruise control.  Oh crap, the big black SUV in the rear view mirror is only six, seven car lengths behind me and closing in too fast.  No lights or siren yet but I must be busted.  How fast was I going?  Took my foot off the gas in an instant to slow down without slamming on the breaks.  Damn, I was going to get a speeding ticket for sure.

The Highway Patrol vehicle swung out to my left, gave me a cautionary glance, turned on his siren and flew after another car far ahead of me.  Heart pounding, hands gripped tensely around the steering wheel, I set the cruise for sixty-eight and took a deep breath of sheer relief.

That was a very close call.