October is upon us, and that means scary stories season. I want to save the supernatureal stuff for later in the month, but we’re each old enough to have survived some scary shit. So rather than throw some youtube clips, lets talk about our own scary stories.
So this is a story I haven’t told in a long time.
When I was a sprout, I lived near Cool California, because that is where my parents chose to live. Don’t judge ME for that.
Now Cool used to be known as Cavetown, because it sits on top of a very uncharacteristic-for-California LIMESTONE deposit. And where there’s limestone, there’s caves. Also where there’s limestone, there LIME MINERS, in this particular case when I was bumping around there it was SPRECKLES SUGAR.
At the time it was sort of a pit mine, but they weren’t allowed to mine the side on the front of the American River, because that was State Park Property.
And on that side, you could access the old diggings from the old railroad-bed, and had and uninterrupted climb up a thousand feet of limstone face to the summit.
NOW… to explain about myself, I was just out of high-schuool, and had entered my “mountain climber” phase. I would start at the river, end at the canyon riim, no big deal. Right?
The lower parts are easy, Bing bada boom, I make it to a mid-level tunnel, that takes me to a climb I had not anticipated.
This tunnel debuts onto and up and down section. UP, there;s a climb up a muddy-looking section of rocks to a crown at the top of the hill.
Below, there is a hunrded-foot drop onto jagged BOULDERS.
I' am looking UP, thinking, “Hallfway can get behind me RIGHT NOW!” And I scurried out onto a SLIMY ROCK FACE, and successfully scaled to the that aforementioned CROWN.
Now that thing was ten feet tall, and I could a best reach eight, so I could not for the life get that LAST twenty inches separating ME from conquering the stupid thing. And THEN..
Then I found a pit dug in the side of that crown, with three breautiful fist-sized blue speckled eggs. These was VULTURE EGGS, and if mama vulture found me anywhere NEAR them, I was gonna get f’d up beyond recognition.
So I said to myself, “SELF, we can ALWAYS back up.” And I resolved to backtrack my way out.
So, I’m backtracking my way DOWN this slime-covered rock face.
Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to climb DOWN a cliff, but, your body is not arranged to do that very efficiently.
My footing broke.
And I went slipping down that slick shit picking up speed towards being launched over a hundred foot drop onto jagged rocks.
I dug in with my fingermails and boot-tips, and right at the last minute, my boot caught on a one-incch rock lip. I tried to balance on it, and I pinwheeled to the right, and caught the rest of that lip with my hands.
Hand over hand, I got myself back over the mineshaft that led to that place.
I’d had ALL the BEJEEZUS scared out of me multiple times, I’d cheated death, and I was covered with the most disgusting crap you’ve ever heard of.
I went down to the river, and washed myself and my clothes clean.
And that is my “I almost died” story.
Folks? I know you’ve got some good stories.