Trek to Disaster Part 1 (349 hits)
Category: Quotes & StoriesRating: 1.83 on 8 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by yermom (View user info) at 2005-06-01 19:31:26 EDT
It is now day eleven of our grueling trek, only now as I sit here alone pondering the very real possibility that we may not make it out of this wilderness alive do I bother to keep a journal. Our trip began almost two weeks ago; we were dropped as part of a company retreat, one where big wigs pay big bucks to escape the stress of their high paid jobs, and their multi million dollar homes. What a travesty life must be for them. Even now I still carry the resentment against them, if only they had listened, we may have had a chance to get save a life, maybe we still do.
In the off chance that I either make it back or that my body is found, I want there to be some kind of record of what these monsters are capable of. You would think that they would be regular men, men like any other that would stand up to help each other in a time of need, but it appears that I'm stuck with the dregs of humanity, soulless bastards with not one care for the ones that they had called friends at the beginning of this trip.
It all started on the second day of our mountain retreat, we were air-dropped at the top of Mt. Wineapugo, our goal was to live mainly off of the land, and make our way down the mountain, and 45 miles east over the course of the next few weeks, I was to be their guide, and things were supposed to have gone much differently then they did. We were out with only minimal supplies, no radios, phones, or GPS units, all part of the package and all insisted upon by these charlatan mountain men. Out trip began with seven men. Now there are only five of us. It's not only a shame, but a travesty.
The first member of our party to meet with an unfortunate demise was a Mr. Clint Richardson. Mr. Richardson was the CEO of a Fortune 500 company in Seattle Washington, I can't say what the company was, or what exactly they did, but what I can say is that his death was needless. He seemed to be a nice guy, older in his late forties, with peppered grey hair, and a mustache that looked like it came out of a police station. I noticed something was amiss with Clint on the second day of our trip, he appeared jovial, but a little too loose for my liking, I should have known that he was drunk, but it never really crossed my mind until I found his flask, right at the edge of a large cliff wall, he had fallen over a hundred feet, he was killed instantly. Day four we all mourned the needless loss, and I insisted that everyone needed to stay sharp, and listen to me
I can only assume that the other unfortunate member of our party to which I previously mentioned has met a similar fate, although, there has been no sign of him at all since the sixth night. His name was Jim Winthorpe, I don't know exactly what it is that he did for a living, but I can only assume that his profession of record would not have allowed him to deal with people directly. He didn't seem like a bad person, but his distinct lack of character and general unfriendly demeanor led me to this decision.
The morning of the seventh day, when we realized that Mr. Winthorpe wasn't in his sleeping bag, I tried to organize a search but the resto of the members of the party refused to go out even in teams, I checked a grid of roughly a mile in each direction, while they sat at the camp and waited. We held camp there overnight in the hopes that he had gone off exploring and would somehow return, but by the middle of the eighth day it was apparent that he wouldn't be coming back.
Tonight I'll be holding a meeting with the remaining members of the party, we have a few options, and at this point the retreat basically means nothing, and my only concern is to get everybody the hell out off of this mountain, and get a real search party up into these woods to look for Mr. Winthorpe, although by that time, I think it's unlikely that he'll be alive. It's hard enough to stay alive out here with the proper gear, but he would have had almost nothing, short of his knife, and the clothes on his back. Whatever his fate, I hope that he can keep himself alive and away from the bears until a real search can be organized.
User Reviews
Submitted by Dead_0hi0_Sky (user info) at 2005-06-02 16:42:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
a ninja banging away on a cowbell while screaming "charlatan!" would've been nice.
Submitted by Sassmasterr (user info) at 2005-06-02 16:17:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
good story. we need to use "charlatan" more.
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2005-06-02 14:14:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by yermom (user info) at 2005-06-02 12:29:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Here's more ninjas for you Jungle
http://www.ubersite.com/m/57349
Submitted by Jungle_Jimanee (user info) at 2005-06-02 12:24:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Actually it needed more Ninjas.
Submitted by Jungle_Jimanee (user info) at 2005-06-02 12:23:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2005-06-02 05:45:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
43 hits
Submitted by peckerhead (user info) at 2005-06-01 23:10:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Good start. Shades of "Touching the Void".