06/09/2015
http://www.thejanetblog.com/2015/06/mcgeyver-sue-and-the-riparian-preserve/
McGeyver Sue at the Riparian Preserve
During the last full moon, my sister, the photographer, and I went to the Riparian Preserve to seek awesome pictures like I had captured on another full moon in this same locale. We arrived and the moon wasn’t to be found, but 20 bunnies were grazing on the grass and they were content to let us photograph them until a boisterous child scared the cottontails. They scattered, but we were on to the heron in the lake for our next shooting prize.
The moon had still not risen so we moved to a location deep into the preserve, where I had captured the fabulous shot. We traipsed there with our loads. I packed light, my camera and a bottle of water. My sister on the other hand has the” be prepared” motto stenciled on her arm.
She had her tripod, which was necessary because her camera lens was terribly heavy. No one could hold it still for a photo except the Hulk or maybe Dwayne Johnson, the Rock. Of course she also needed her 5 gallon hiking/horse riding back pack, her camera bag and camera. We finally see the huge, orange moon rising from the horizon and seek the best place to snap our shutters looking for the perfect shot.
After about 60 pics on my camera and an equal number on her camera, we headed back to our car. She was not as familiar with the terrain, and it was now dark. We saw a Ranger drive in, but I thought he was locking up the bathrooms. She wanted to ask him, which way was the fastest course to exit the park, but I knew which trail was the quickest because I had ventured here often. “Follow me” I said. With my phone flashlight blazing, looking for snakes lurking in the bushes, we headed to the exit.
We were almost there when I looked ahead and saw the fence with an extra piece of wiring and a gate that was closed. Normally it is open but at night I learned, they close and padlock it after dark. Holy Toledo! We are stuck!!!!
Neither of us panics. I say, Let’s climb over the fence.” Even though our agility scale is gauged to our 55+ years, my sister says, “Sounds good, but this is a no climb fence. “ After sticking my foot in the fencing, I agree with her. We then look for the lowest part of the fence because finding a chair or a ladder is not in the cards. My sister owns and rides horses so she is accustomed to heaving herself on to the back of a horse. I am not. A fence is not a horse, but she does give me a knee, and I hoist myself on to the top of the fence with one leg. I am holding on the fence post with one hand and the top of the fence with the other. My other leg is having a great deal of difficulty getting between the little space between my hand and the fence post. While on top the 2” balance beam, called a fence top, my sister is telling me to hurry up because her knee is starting to cramp and might give out any second. I pushed and got my leg through. Wondering if I should roll when I hit the dirt I looked down to the ground. It looked as deep as the Grand Canyon, and I have weak ankles.
I jumped, and really it wasn’t too far to the dirt, that is from the perspective that I am now safely on the ground. Next she hands me her camera, her camera bag and my camera. She tries to figure out how she can lift herself on to and over the fence. She wants to go get a bench she has seen, but it was mighty far away and probably anchored into the ground. We look for sticks or anything that can give her some height to mount the fence. Her next effort was to slam herself on to the top of the fence. Due to her lack of sufficient vertical leap she now has a large purple, still growing, bruise on her stomach to show for her actions.
Still searching for anything to give her something to boost her up and over, she eyed a marker post and tested it for strength and considered pulling it out of the ground, but as she was contemplating the post another post of sorts came to mind. Why not use her tripod that she had carted around for the last hour. Finally, she tried to use it as her stepping stool. She braced it against the fence and tried to steady it. Good old tripod stayed strong, and she vaulted the fence and landed safely.
Recreating, improving when there is a need and not having much with which to work, we succeeded. We certainly had a great need, and she McGevyered her way out of being trapped in the Riparian. I now call her McGevyer Sue.
We were tramping in the dark on the lookout for snakes, scaling great walls of fencing plus artistically taking full moon and bunny pictures, what an adventure for 2 mature sisters, all in the confines of the Riparian Preserve.
