Today, Spencer and Madison and I went to Hoodoo so that they could ride their dirtbikes. I sat in the sun.
Hoodoo is a butte in the central Cascades, about 2 hours from home. In the winter it is a ski area.
They rode for a while, but Madison was ready to go a little earlier than anticipated due to being pitched off her bike a couple times. We had some sandwiches and packed up.
I like many things about central oregon- the heat, the sky which seems bluer than in the Valley, the broad horizon. One thing I absolutely hate is the dust. And I really hate dusty feet.
So after we were on our way home, I asked if we could stop somewhere along the way so that I could dunk my feet into the South Santiam River or a lake. Spencer grumbled, but he found me a good spot where I could not only get my feet wet and clean, but keep them from getting dirty on the way back to the truck.
It was at this stop that he noticed that he had left our gas can at Hoodoo. It was a 5 gallon can, full of premium gas. He did the math- about 18 bucks worth of gas in a 10 dollar can. I told him I was game if he wanted to go back to the staging area, it would have been about a one hour drive. He kicked himself and we decided to just go home.
So we made it home an hour later, and he discovered that we had left his riding boots next to the gas can. Now, mathematically, it made sense to go back. But the boots and gas had been sitting out in the open for almost three hours- what were the chances they would still be there? Spencer, pissed off at himself, asked Madison and I to stay home while he went back for the boots and gas.
I immediately thought about my I am not a Paper Cup. What if it wasn't lost-lost? What if it's previous owner came back for it and found it missing?
Finders Keepers suddenly doesn't seem like such an awesome plan.
Spencer called about 20 minutes ago to let us know that he was on his way back home again, and that he had the gas and the boots. A family from Salem who were camped near the spot where we unloaded set them aside for him- near but distinctly separate from their gear. They told him they knew he'd be back.
See, not everyone is a tool...
ReplyDelete