The Drive to Yellowstone, Final Part: Getting Off the Mountain

The bus ground to a stop among the loose stones of the runaway truck ramp. My hands shook as I took them away from the steering wheel and placed them in my lap. My legs trembled as they let off the brake, and the burning smell of those brakes caught up to us, enveloped us, reminded us of how bad it might have been.

I looked back at Maile. Her eyes seemed stuck open, unblinking.

“That could have been really, really bad,” she said, her voice wavering.

I swallowed. Nodded.

She took the kids to the back of the bus and turned on a movie. I went out and walked around the bus. Smoke came out from behind the front wheels. So relatively slow had our approach to the runaway truck ramp been, and so effective the 8-inch thick layer of loose pebbles in slowing us, that the bus hadn’t even gone all the way in. Our back tires were still on pavement.

I looked out over the incredible view again – the trees and the cliffs and the mountains. Everything was completely still. Peaceful.

* * * * *

The next few hours passed in a post-adrenaline haze. The nicest officer in the world stopped and made sure we were okay, then called for the largest wrecker they could find. He invited me to sit in his car while he wrote up the report. Every once in a while he looked at me without saying a word, then shook his head in amazement and looked away. After doing that two or three times, he finally spoke.

“You do realize how lucky you are, right? How bad that could have been?”

I nodded, feeling a bit choked up, and looked out the window, up the mountain, in the direction from which we had come.

* * * * *

A few hours later the truck arrived. Two men were in it. One of them, a long-haired mountain man with a six-inch goatee and a few missing teeth, stared up into the bus at Maile.

“Everyone okay?” he asked in a genuine voice.

She nodded.

“White-knuckled it there for a bit, I guess?”

She nodded again, biting her lip.

We waited in the minivan at the bottom of the mountain and took a picture of the truck as it brought Willie down to us.

* * * * *

After a long discussion with the tow-truck driver, and testing the brakes, we went on our merry way. By now it was past 5pm, but we thought we’d still try to make it to Yellowstone, a few hours away.

Just outside of Jackson Hole a herd of bison crossed the road in front of us. The kids all crowded to the front. The huge beasts, from some other time period, lumbered slowly up on to the asphalt, then into the huge expanse of grass on the other side. It was beautiful. Breathtaking. Surreal.

Out of this silence spoke Cade, our prophet, and he summed up the whole day in one sentence.

“We must be the luckiest family in the world.”

33 Replies to “The Drive to Yellowstone, Final Part: Getting Off the Mountain”

  1. When safe at home, we don’t have to worry about our brakes failing. When driving around the neighbourhood, on level, low-altitude streets, we generally don’t have to worry about our brakes failing. On some level I’m sure you guys were aware of that when you left on this trip. People don’t need to fly on airplanes – they don’t need to climb mountains – they don’t need to run races or leave their homes to go on adventures – but they do it anyway, and if you ask me that’s a good thing.

    The irony of these three posts of yours is that they have made me long to drive west and to drive through the Teton pass. I want to be headed to Yellowstone today (maybe not in a tour bus). What a gift; an utterly gut-wrenching, heart in your mouth, leaving you feeling slightly unsteady on your feet, gift – you and your family to be alive and well, and to know that but for the grace of God you might not be (the grace of God and a runaway truck ramp). Thanks for surviving and for bringing us along for the ride.

  2. I shared your story with my Dad, who runs a bus company. He shared it with his drivers as a cautionary tale. Glad to hear you all are fine and able to tell the tale.

  3. Even though I knew you guys made it out OK, I still read the last 3 posts with my heart in my throat. Great adventure, but glad it wasn’t me. Whew.

  4. Goodness. I’m glad THIS part of your story is over. Praying for you guys, loving you guys, and praying there’s no repeat occurrence!

  5. YOU, YOUR ABILITY TO PUT WORDS TOGETHER THAT CREATE SOMETHING SO ‘STOMACH IN KNOTS’ READING, FOR DAYS, TELLS ME YOU HAVE A SUCCESSFUL WRITING CAREER AHEAD OF YOU. I CANNOT BELIEVE I HAVE BECOME SO DEEPLY INVOLVED WITH YOUR FAMILY. EVERY ONE OF YOU COMPLIMENTS THE OTHER. I AM AN AVID FICTION, ‘COZY’ MYSTERY.READER. YOU HAVE SHOWN ME YOU [POSSESS THE ABILITY TO BE A HUGH SUCCESS IN THIS FIELD, MAYBE A BABY-STEP UP TO BEING ANOTHER JOHN GRISHAM, BUT THE LITTLE I KNOW ABOUT YOUR LITERARY GOALS MAKES ME THINK THIS WON’T BE, YOU COULD REACH SO MANY. THAT WILL NEVER KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE TO OFFER. I AM ALMOST 74, AND THE MYSTERIES I READ, AND THE PUZZLES IN THE DAILY NEWSPAPER ARE NOT JUST FOR FUN. I AM STRIVING TO KEEP WHATEVER MENTAL FACULTIES I HAVE LEFT, BUT IN ANOTHER LIFE I WAS AN ACCOUNTANT, AND THINK I READ EVERYTHING EXCEPT PORN. BUT EVERYTHING EXCEPT BAD HEALTH AND DOCTOR VISITS ( WHICH ARE ON THE INCREASE) HAVE PRETTY MUCH TAKEN OVER MY LIFE. SORRY, TOO MUCH ABOUT ME – BUT YOU HAVE WON AN OSCAR, A PILITZER, EVEN DANCING WITH THE STARS ———–BY THE WAY, THE PATRIOT NEWS WALKED OFF WITH A CAR LOAD OF PULITZERS THIS YEAR.

    1. I love your comments, Joyce, because they make me think of Owen Meany (a character in a book whose dialogue was in all caps). Thanks for your thoughts and your encouragement.

  6. Man, am I glad to read this installment. I read Maile’s version so I knew the ending – but still! This is remarkable, just remarkable. Are you saying you did not need to get new brakes on the bus? That you just started driving it again once you reached more level ground? That stuns me – but then I do not understand the workings of ANY vehicle, much less one the size of Willie. This has been such a rich series of posts, Shawn. I sincerely hope you and Maile will combine forces and make a book of this.

    1. Diana, only after speaking with a bunch of people who know a lot about the brakes on this kind of vehicle did we decide to move on. Maile and I are planning on writing this book together, something I’m really looking forward to.

    1. Definitely not while it was happening. I think Cade must have caught wind of our concern at some point because he did ask about the next steep hill we were on. But for the most part, they seemed oblivious.

  7. Still trying really hard not to cry at this story. The way you explain it not only makes me feel like I experienced it myself- but also evokes a lot of feelings on your behalf. I’m so sorry that you and Maile had to face that near tragedy but so thankful for the protection of our Father in Heaven.

    1. DITTO MICHALE!! SHAWN, YOUR WONDERFUL WAY WITH WORDS MADE US ALL, I FEEL, WE WERE SETTING IN THAT BUS WITH YOU AND YOUR FAMILY THAT DAY. YOU ARE A GREAT STORYTELLER, AND I SO LOOK FORWARD TO ANY COMMUNICATION FROM YOU.

  8. Oh my. We all have close calls–sometimes we are aware of them, sometimes not. It’s when we are aware, we have to stop and say thank you, God. I’m saying it now even because of *your* close call. {smile} I’m glad your story had a happy ending.

Comments are closed.