I have always looked up to Randy. He has many qualities which I have always wanted to emulate. He has been a mentor for me. He is fun and has a fresh sense of humor. I have many choice memories of experiences together with Randy. We did lots of things as a pair, even when I was just a small boy in Salt Lake. I remember the weekend we stayed at Grandpa Curtis' cabin along the banks of the Weber River. We spent the days hiking and fishing the river. Whitefish and trout made a most delicious dinner those evenings. We went on fishing trips together often and sometime we took Mac, my dog, along too. Randy and I have always had a close relationship as brothers and a unique friendship.
When we moved to Castle Valley, our kinship continued. We worked together, played together, and experienced the good and bad together. Because we lived in a remote and sparsely populated area, there wasn't a lot of other friends with whom we could associate in the valley. My family became my best friends, and that especially included Randy.
One late fall afternoon, Randy invited Jeff and I to go along with him to do some bow hunting in the La Sal mountains. We were delighted. Since it would soon be dark, we quickly put our gear together, climbed into one of Randy's old trucks, and hurried on our way.
The mountains were covered with deep snow, but Randy's heavy truck climbed the hills without much trouble. As we drove, night fell. We continued up a windy road and as the incline steepened, we began to have a little difficulty climbing a spot here and there on the road. We'd try and get a little momentum and make a run at the hill, and usually we would eventually get up it. By this time we were quite a ways up the mountains.
We reached a slightly steeper spot in the snow-packed road which curved toward the left, and we lost traction when we tried to climb the hill. So Randy attempted to back down the hill to give it another try, but the truck had slipped right up against the bank on the right side of the road. We had difficulty steering the truck properly since the front of the truck could not swing to the right to direct the truck back toward the left onto the snow-packed road. At the time, we had no idea of the dilemma we were in. We inched the truck down the road in this predicament. We tried and tried to get the truck back on the level road surface, but eventually the back wheels of the truck slipped off the road and down into a depressed area.
At this point, we just wanted to get the truck back on the road so we weren't stuck anymore and could get to camp. We tried building a road of branches to give the tires something to grip on, but the incline was too great and the wheels just spun. So we jacked up the back of the truck and placed stones under the wheels. We took the time to build a rock path for the wheels to follow. But still the tires would not grip, and we couldn't drive back onto the road until they did. It was very late now, and I felt we were beginning to get desparate, stuck somewhere in the mountains while deer hunting.
We hadn't tried chains yet, so Randy got the chain for the tires. We jacked the back of the truck up again to put the chains on the wheels. When the chains were in place, I stood toward the rear of the truck in the black of the night, and Randy attempted to drive back onto the road. But the wheels just spun. Sparks shot from the chains as they ground against the rocks we had placed under the tires. But the truck didn't budge.
We had tried everything in our power to get the truck back on the road at this point, but we couldn't do it alone. Randy suggested that we say a prayer. I had secretly been hoping for this but didn't make the recommendation. I agreed it would be a good idea. He offered the prayer, pleading with the Lord to intervene and help us free the truck.
Following the prayer, Randy climbed back in the truck, started the engine, and again tried to drive back on the road. I stood near the rear of the truck and held my breath. This time the tires didn't slip, and the truck moved forward and back safely onto the road. Randy got out of the truck, and headed directly for me. We held each other and shed tears of gratitude.
Then we knelt together and thanked Heavenly Father for miraculously answering our prayer that dark night, alone, stuck somewhere in the snowy hills of the LaSal mountains.
