Donkey Screams in the Night

We zipped through the twists and turns of the dusty, Southern Arizona roads. We were 15 minutes from Colossal Cave Mountain Park, the last open place to camp for the night, and it was closing in 10 minutes.

We pulled up to the locked entrance gate at 5:05 where we found the rangers packing up for the night, ready to return to civilization.

Too proud to accept defeat... we resorted to begging. After several minutes of pleading, the rangers took pity and ushered us into the park.

"Wait... so how do we get out?" Richelle asked.

“We’ll be back at 7am tomorrow morning,” the ranger said as she locked the gate behind us and disappeared into a cloud of dust down Old Spanish Road.

After a moment of high fives and hippy-ka-yays, it quickly set in that we were now locked in the desert wilderness… alone… with no food and no water. We hadn’t tackled the whole ‘planning ahead’ thing quite yet.

The campground was disturbingly camper-less, and in a moment of hyperbolic contemplation, we wondered if it was possible to starve to death in 12 hours.

But then again….. We were locked in our own private wilderness! After some exploration, we found a small ranch with goats and donkeys, complete with a faucet and running water. Yahtzee. We were going to make it after all!

The next few hours were spent howling at the rising moon and marveling at our dumb luck, a feeling of euphoria that subsided with the setting sun.

“I think there are cougars out here,” Richelle said as she stooped to collect rocks along the side of the road. “Here, take some. For weapons.” She pushed the chunks of concrete into my hands.

It was pitch black and windy as we began scavenging the car for food. We were thrilled to find a couple packets of aged, instant oatmeal and half a bag of m&m’s. We boiled the stable water and added the m&m’s for flavor. We ate our gruel holed up in the back of my car, now convinced cougars or a rabid pack of javelinas had surrounded the camp.

After a few hours of postponing the inevitable, it was time. We eyed our tent from the safety of the car. It quivered in the wind and cast a long, lonely shadow across the abandoned desert terrain. In the distance, a donkey screamed in the night.

With our pockets filled with rocks, and a fork for extra protection, we ran to the tent and dove inside.

Inside the two person tent we lay wide-eyed, staring at the ceiling. We spoke only when the disturbance demanded.

“Did you hear that?!”

“....Yes.”

Another donkey scream. We cuddled closer in terror... because what in God’s name would cause a donkey to make such an awful noise??

TO BE CONTINUED….

- Written by the brave, Lauryn Claassen herself