Stroke of luck bounces right the way after trip up to Anderson Lake
Monday morning, I left Snowmass Village just before 6 to take a drive up Lincoln Creek, and while I’ve grown fond of that area of Independence Pass, the trip was for all the wrong reasons.
By about 7:30 a.m., I was wondering what I was doing up there, wandering around in the dirt near Grizzly Reservoir for my lifeline … aka my cellphone.
I preface this with the fact that (and I’m knocking on every tree in town) I never have lost my wallet, my keys or my phone. I’ve run out of gas just once, in college and that was right as I pulled into the parking lot of my job.
So, it is not lost that I have been pretty dang lucky, until about 7:30 p.m. Sunday night. That was about the time I realized that my phone — complete with about 15 years of phone numbers, numerous recorded interviews and countless photos — was not where I thought it was. Or anywhere else I thought it could be.
Long story short: We took two vehicles up to Grizzly Reservoir on Sunday then left one to do the final, rough 3 miles up to Anderson Lake in the 2000 Wrangler. So far, all good. But it was on the bumpy ride back to Grizzly that the phone made a break for it. I still don’t know how it jumped Jeep, but it did.
Mad, embarrassed and perturbed, I gave up at about 9 p.m. Sunday and planned to get up and go searching at dawn, figuring I left it by the reservoir.
After about a half-hour searching the parking area and shore of Grizzly where I had fished, no luck. I came down to town, called AT&T to suspend the coverage and started to get the what for on “What, you don’t know how to backup on the Cloud?” from the customer service agent, my wife and a few others.
Just about 3 p.m. while I was defeated and still sulking in my office, a co-worker came in to say there was a couple from Denver I might want to meet.
They had found the phone just past the river crossing by the Anderson Lake trailhead and picked it up. Once the young couple got into cell range, they saw a text message sent Monday morning from my son that said: “If you find this phone, please return it to The Aspen Times office. It belongs to the editor.”
After a group hug in the Times’ lobby, I asked for their contact info so I could get them a gift card to their favorite place on the Front Range, but they refused.
“Naw. Just pay it forward,” he said. And like that they were out of our office and heading back to Denver.
Now, I can go back to Lincoln Creek and not relive that day for eternity, at least not in a bad way.
Two things I’m taking away from this: I’m learning about this Cloud stuff and, more importantly, that people want to do the right thing.
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