On a chilly October night, four of us climbed into my tiny, black Jeep Compass to leave Hidden Falls Adventure Park in Marble Falls, Texas. When we departed, thick darkness had already covered everything in the Texas Hill Country – except the bright stars that dotted the wide, open sky. My Jeep’s headlights attempted to cut through the night as we followed a group of trucks traveling down a dirt road. We went up a small hill, and I spotted a sign. I remembered the route to the next campsite, but after that I wasn’t sure. I would need to consult the map to find the park’s exit.
My wife Tan, my cousins Daniel and Amanda, and I were tired and ready to leave the park. We were planning to meet up with more family members at a Whataburger for a late-night snack. After we left, many of our family and friends still lingered by the fire as the embers slowly died at our campsite. At the last moment, Amanda had decided to ride with someone else. As a result, she missed a lot of excitement.
My brother Tony liked to tease me about my Jeep Compass. He never actually called it a Compass.
“There’s your toy Jeep over there!” he would shout with a laugh. “It’s a Jeep-lite! No. Actually, it’s a diet Jeep!”
His Jeep Wrangler towered over my Compass whenever our Jeeps were parked next to each other. I admit it. My Jeep did look a lot like a toy version of his, and I envied his Wrangler.
“Why get a Jeep if you’re not going to go off-roading with it? Is it really a Jeep?” he would ask.
I had compromised in the name of fuel efficiency. Obviously, my Compass would never be trail-rated. Tony was quick to remind me of this fact as well.
As I cautiously drove on the winding trail, we watched the road nervously.
I’m sure it’s this way.” I feigned confidence.
“Did you see a sign? I thought there would be a turn by now.” Then, my wife commanded. “Ask someone!”
I thought I knew where I was going, but I soon realized that I had gotten lost.
“Okay. Okay. I’ll go back.”
Then, I turned around and went back to the nearest campsite to ask someone for directions.
I saw a line of Jeeps with people sitting in them waiting.
“Hey, are you going out?” I asked a lady.
“Yes. If you want to follow us, just get in the back of the line.”
I pulled up behind them and waited. I didn’t realize it yet, but she did not mean they were going out of the park. She meant they were going out on a night run on steep and dangerous trails.
The line of cars left, and they were going fast. I soon realized that I was in way too deep. They were driving on a trail that had huge chasms. I had to weave in and out or risk being swallowed up by the ground.
“Are you sure, we’re going the right way?” my wife asked.
“They said they were going out.”
“Wait. What did they say?” she yelled. “What did they say exactly?”
“They just said they were going out.”
“So, you don’t know where they’re going.”
“Well, who just goes out in the middle of the night unless they’re leaving the park?” By now I was yelling. Obviously, I had asked a dumb question because this group was doing exactly that.
I started praying. If I swerved into one of those holes, my car was a goner. There would be no easy way to get my Compass out. I didn’t have a wench like a Wrangler did. No one could pull me out.
I thought to myself, my car won’t survive this, and maybe we won’t either.
Somehow, I managed to dodge every gaping hole. I kept going because I thought if I stayed with the group, then, at least I would have gotten somewhere. I also feared that if I stopped, we would become stranded and all alone in the darkness. There was no cell phone reception out there also. But we weren’t heading towards the exit. We were just going deeper into the forest of darkness. Thinking back to those moments, that was the most impressive driving I have ever done. But, honestly, I can’t take any credit. Because in those moments, I believe, that Tony took the wheel, and he was driving like a maniac.
Then, we made a sharp turn, and I saw a huge dip. And after the dip was an even bigger hill. I thought the only chance to make it would be to get a lot of speed and try to climb the hill with momentum. This did not work.
I yelled some expletives as we descended. We were all screaming, and I bet Tony was loving this! I thought we might flip over. But we made it all the way down and then half way up the next hill before we got stuck. My tires started spinning out. I could hear the them kicking up dirt, and I could smell burnt rubber. We started sliding backwards every time I stopped trying to go forward. I cut the engine and put on the parking brake. We slid a little more before we finally came to a stop.
A few moments later, a truck pulled up. Two guys stopped and got out. One of them said, “You look like you need some help. My name’s Justin.”
I was so relieved. I told him I was driving a Compass. Justin could not believe I had made it that far without four-wheel drive.
I let Justin back up the Compass and then he changed a setting on my car, and it helped it climb up the hill that was less steep. Then, he carefully maneuvered the car back to an easier trail. His buddy followed us. Finally, we arrived at the gate of the park about an hour later. We thanked both of them, but not before another Jeep came by with some of their other buddies.
Justin bragged, “You’ll never believe it. I just drove Baby Back in a Compass.” Baby Back was the name of a four-diamond trail. The highest difficulty rating of trails in the park was five diamonds. It was a miracle we didn’t get hurt or damage the vehicle at all.
Earlier that night we had been celebrating Tony’s life, by scattering his ashes at the campsite that was named Area 51. Someone at the park must have had a sense of humor. We had built a Viking-style pyre in the same place where his ashes lie. Tony and many of his friends enjoyed dressing up as Vikings and brewing mead. We drank lots of mead that night and told epic tales about him as we prayed his soul would find peace in Heaven or Valhalla, as the Vikings call it. Several symbolic tokens of his life were placed in the fire before it burned. I ripped out a page from a Calvin and Hobbes comic because he loved that strip. His friends placed a Viking shield that he had been very proud of. Others wrote letters to him and put them in the pile. Someone even threw in a bag of French fries because he loved junk food so much. After some speeches and a final Viking war chant, the fire was lit. The pyre grew higher and higher until all of the items were consumed.
After saying goodbye to my deceased little brother, we had that crazy ride. I really believe it was Tony’s last prank on yours truly. Maybe he was getting back at me for telling some embarrassing stories about him at his funeral. He definitely got the last laugh though. We came close to being reunited that night. When I think about Tony and listen closely, I can hear him laughing all the way from Valhalla about that last ride we shared. When we finally reached Whataburger, we had a quite a story to tell.
Copyright 2020, Steven Cross