Heather's Bones

by Hazel Grace, 6th
You know that feeling when your stomach drops when you’re going down a roller coaster? That’s how I felt when I didn’t see my mom after I sat up....

December 28, 2014
“Alright, everyone get in the truck!” My grandpa told us to get loaded in the vehicle, as he was strapping in the two 4 wheelers. We began our short drive to the mountain.
“Did you remember the hot cocoa?” I asked.
“Yes,” my mom told me.
“And all the snacks?”
“Yes,” she said again.
     When we got to the trailhead, we started to unload all our gear. While my grandpa prepared the 4 wheelers, my mom, Heather, my sister, Lydia, and I took out the helmets, food and everything else we needed for fun afternoon ride in the beautiful forest. Helmets on, we settled ourselves on the 4 wheelers. I rode on the back of the seat of my mom’s 4 wheeler, and Lydia went with my grandpa. I was nervous, and excited, but mostly nervous.
     We started riding up the mountain. I could smell a rich, woodsy scent and see the colorful trees. Before long, we were out of the dense woods, moving up a steep curvy hill on a gravelly road, with a huge drop on the side. I tried not to look down. Once up the mountain, we were in the trees again. My knees were shaking and my teeth were chattering.
“Can we stop for snack now?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Lydia agreed.
“We can stop after we get down this trail,” my grandpa assured us.
“Okay,” I said.
     The trail was long and bumpy. There were a lot of rocks and roots and it was  steep down hill. Each bump was a little worse than the last. When we finally reached the bottom and came to a flat part, we stopped and got off the vehicles. My knees were still shaking. We opened the snack container and poured hot chocolate into little travel mugs.
    “Ahhh.” A long sigh of relief escaped my mouth as I slowly sipped the hot chocolate. The sweetness soothed my nerves and helped me enjoy the outdoors. We laughed and took in the lush forested surroundings. After we finished our snack, we got back on the trail. I felt a little more relaxed, but still wrapped my arms around my mom as tightly as I could.

Later that day…
“We have a decision to make,” my grandpa declared.
“We can either go to see the bridges that go over the creek, which means we’ll have to go a little farther, or we can turn back now.”
I was cold, but I was intrigued. “What do you want to do, Lydia?” I usually deferred to my older sister when I was ambivalent.
“I’m good either way,” said Lydia.
“Me too,” I agreed.
“Why not? Let’s keep going,” my mom joyfully exclaimed.
“Alright then, let’s get going, we are running out of daylight,” my grandpa warned.
     After a while we came to a big, steep, and muddy hill. I could feel my heart start beating faster. I could see that my grandpa and Lydia were struggling to get up the hill. Then it was our turn. I could feel the 4 wheeler slipping, the tires losing traction. We were halfway up the hill and....
“Get off, Elliot!” my mom screamed. I could barely hear her but I could hear the urgency in her voice. “We are going over!”
As I rolled off the 4 wheeler, I could see the world spinning around me. Everything happened in a blur. The swirl of trees, gray sky, and then, THUMP! I hit the muddy ground.

     You know that feeling when your stomach drops when you’re going down a roller coaster? That’s how I felt when I didn’t see my mom after I sat up....
I looked around and all I saw was the 4 wheeler and the forest. I felt the tears roll down my cheeks as I heard big footsteps coming down the hill. I looked up at my grandpa as he trudged down the mountain. Then I saw her. My mom was trapped under the 4 wheeler. He walked up the hill again. I heard him speaking to Lydia.
“What happened?” Lydia asked.
“Well, your sister fell off and your mom broke her leg.” My grandpa replied calmly.
Lydia and my grandpa hiked down, I was still sitting there in the mud, tears streaming down my face. I stood up and walked down after them.
     I felt even more wetness on my face. It had started to rain. Drizzling at first and then the clouds began to steadily release bigger wet drops of rain. It was getting colder, and the rain began falling faster. My grandpa couldn’t lift the 700 pound machine off my mom by himself, so he had to ride the 4 wheeler off of my mom. My mom was screaming like she was dying, crushed by not only the weight of the machine, but the movement of it being ridden off of her. Lydia and I went off to the side of the trail while my grandpa tried helping her onto the 4 wheeler. My mom was howling in pain, telling my grandpa to take us to safety and leave her behind. He of course would never leave my mom. There was only one thing to do.
     All four of us piled on to the larger of the two 4 wheelers; me in the front on top of the gas tank, my grandpa behind me, my mom behind him, and my sister Lydia barely sitting on the edge of the seat behind my mom. We slowly rode over bumps, and rocky terrain for about half an hour, my mom moaning and crying over every single jostle. Broken bones rubbing against each other was more tortuous than the break. Finally, we were able to get a cell signal, as before, there was no service to even call for help. My grandpa called 9-1-1 and my grandma, and gave the location we would be arriving at to meet the ambulance. Nearly 30 minutes later, we arrived at the trailhead, and the ambulance was waiting for us.
     The paramedics helped my mom into the ambulance and my grandpa went with her. My grandma was there to pick us up and took us back to her house. Later, we went to the hospital to see my mom. The doctor said that she had broken her leg, in two places above her ankle. The tibia and fibula were broken clean through, but fortunately, not through the skin. My mom had to stay in the hospital for a week before she could come back to California, so my dad flew to Oregon to come pick us up.
     When my mom came home, we had to change a lot of things so she could get better. She was on crutches for two months and couldn’t drive or go to work. My dad made a lot of dinners and took us to school every day. It was hard to see my mom unable to get up and play with us, but eventually she got better, and now she is healed, and it’s almost like the accident never happened. That is, except for the titanium metal rod and pins that will always be inside of her leg.
     Recently, my mom went back to the spot on trail where the accident took place and and reflected on what happened more than 4 years ago. My grandpa has created more than 50 trails that connect in the mountains, and there are names for every trail. Most have handmade signs designating the trailhead. He named the trail where we fell on that beautiful and terrible day.
The sign reads Heather’s Bones.