"Don't you love being up here, Joe. It's like sitting on top of the world."
"The view is magnificent, Hobby, but I can't say I'm at ease." We were in Hobby's Beechcraft Bonanza on our way to Las Vegas. Hobby is a good pilot, but I'm not comfortable in small planes. "You sure we're going in the right direction?"
"Are you kidding, Joe. This baby has the best navigation system money can buy. Look at the display, you can see our route and follow it like a map all the way to Vegas."
"Yeah, but what if the engine craps out over the desert?"
"Even if it does, this plane glides beautifully without power. It's flat terrain, Joe. We won't crash."
"But we could be lost for days."
"Joe, you're a worry wart. What happened to your adventurous and courageous spirit?"
"I left it on the ground; I'll recover it when we land. By the way, look at those white clouds we're headed for, they're immense."
"Thunderclouds. You often see them this time of year. We'll skirt around them and then get back on course."
As we came nearer I was overwhelmed by the immensity of the bright bulbous shapes. Suddenly a brilliant light blinded me followed by a horrendous explosion. Hobby and I both screamed. When I looked at him I could tell he was frightened. "Jeez, Joe. I think we were struck by lightning!" I heard the engine sputter, then stall and go silent. Hobby frantically tried to restart it, but to no avail.
"We're in trouble Joe. I've lost the engine. I'll call in a Mayday."
As I watched him punching buttons and banging the microphone, I knew the radio was out, too. I could smell fried electronics. I also noticed from the altimeter that we were losing altitude, fast.
"It's no good, Joe. The radio's dead. I've got to concentrate on landing."
I was looking for signs of life, but all I saw was desert. "See that white patch up ahead, Joe. It's probably a dried up lakebed. It should be pretty smooth. I'll land there."
"Anything I can do to help?"
"You do the praying, Joe."
That didn't sound too confident to me, but I kept my mouth shut as Hobby brought us down. The landing was very bumpy. When we came to a safe stop I let out a cry of relief.
"Yahoo, Hobby! Great job! You're my man," I hollered as we did high fives. "Now, how the hell do we get back to civilization?" "Try your cell. Joe. Mine shows no signal."
"Mine's the same; no wonder, who'd be making calls from this desolate place. How's your sense of direction?" I asked.
"I think we're probably 15 to 20 miles from I-15. It should be over those hills to the southeast."
"That's a fair hike, partner. It was easy when we were in the Army, but I'm not as hard as I used to be and it's getting very hot. I hope you've got water."
"Not a problem; I've got plenty. Let's load up and hit the trail."
We started off at 5 o'clock and after three hours of hiking we had barely made it to the hills. It was getting dark. I was getting worried. Hobby broke my concentration, "Joe. Am I seeing things? Look up there by that big rock."
In the dim light it was hard to tell, but it looked like someone or something moving.
"Hey!" I hollered.
"Somebody up there?"
"Hey, yerself. Hold on, I'm'a comin'."
He was a bearded old codger astride a burro. "Seen ya come down in yer ae-ree-oo-plane and watched ya walk acrost the desert."
"Why didn't you come to the rescue like the Cavalry?" Hobby asked.
The old fellow gave us a toothless smile and said, "That's a good-un, Sonny, but Nelly here is a-gettin' old, so we just waited fer ya.
"How far are we from the highway?" I asked.
"T'other side 'bout five miles, but ya better wait til mornin'. Be dead dark soon. No moon t'night. Ya best sleep in m'shack." After introductions (his name was Lem) we walked behind the burro up a long twisting trail. My legs were rubbery, reminding me I must get more serious about my physical conditioning. Hobby didn't show any signs of tiring, but I was ready to grab the burro's tail and have it drag me along. Luckily, by the time I had to call for a rest break, we arrived at a wooden shack. It was about the size of a one-car garage.
"Home Sweet Home," Lem announced. The interior was as basic as you can imagine: a small bunk, some boxes along one wall with an assortment of books, tools, and utensils, and a table and single chair. "I see ya got water. I'll give ya some jerky ta chew on. It'll hold ya til ya get a meal t'morrow. You kin sleep on tha floor or outside if ya don't mind them creepy crawlers."
"We appreciate your hospitality. I think we'll sleep inside." I looked at Hobby; he was nodding a big yes.
"Are you a prospector?" Hobby asked. That was a polite question; I was thinking he was probably a hermit.
"Yep, Nelly and me 'r' tha last a tha gold miners."
"Really." Hobby said, "I didn't know there was gold in these parts."
"Well, tain't much, but s'nough to keep us a-goin' and we enjoy huntin' it. Now I've got a question- D'ya know how ta play poker?"
Under the light of a kerosene lamp, with Hobby and me perched on boxes, we played poker into the wee hours of the morning.
Old Lem was a good player; he put up small sacks of nuggets, which he said weighed an ounce, worth about $300, against our green backs. I lost about $500 to Lem and Hobby won two sacks of nuggets. In the morning, after a two-hour hike to the highway, we were picked up by a friendly traveler. With our cell phones now working, Hobby organized the recovery of his aircraft.
After we checked into the Bellagio, with just the clothes on our backs, we went to the shopping mall to pick up some new duds.
"Joe, let's stop in this jewelry store. I want to see what they think of my nuggets." The proprietor emptied a sack onto a black velvet pad and said, "You're kidding, right?" Hobby looked wide-eyed as the man said, "It's fool's gold."
Hobby laughed and said, "And I don't even know if it's me or the old man that's the fool."
"Let's face it, Hobby. He suckered both of us, but it was worth it for the experience. I can just picture him telling Nellie how he hornswoggled a couple of city dudes."
