Total Breakdown in Dangerous Country

Up ahead, unfortunately, opportunities to go off road continued to present themselves even though I stuck to the interstates. The wheels just did not work well off road, so I had to use the tracks. In the next couple of days, I drove off the road for short periods, mostly in the median to get around blockages that would take me a great deal of time to remove.

At Indianapolis, even taking first the Beltway 465 around to the east, and then backtracking, taking the Beltway 465 to the west, I finally made it to I-65 north to Chicago. Having been there before, I didn't want to go to Chicago. Also, I didn't want to go too far north into Michigan where I would run into the radiation from the Donald C. Cook nuclear station just south of St. Joseph. The only place of any significance was Michigan City, so I set course for that--nearly straight north.

But I was only a short ways out of Indianapolis while attempting one of those short, shortcuts around a pileup on the freeway when the entire track on the right came off. I got out and took a look at it, and found that there was no way I would be able to get that heavy steel and rubber track back on with five damaged cogs. And, to compound matters, no way to convert to wheel travel with the heavy track preventing that motion.

I had to improvise. Something that I had grown accustomed to over the years. It took me three days, but using the tools I had and the power from the diesel in Tin Can, I was able to cut the trailer hitch off the travel trailer, build a small trailer out of wood that I had and some creative chainsaw work from nearby trees, using an axle and wheels from the travel trailer.

I then made a makeshift roof over the trailer using solar panels and placed a couple of batteries in the corner to boost my power capacity while on the road in sunshine. Even mounted the windmill from the travel trailer. The rig I came up with was quite heavy, but Grasshopper was powerful and could pull it with ease with the torque from the electric motor. I made sure that the trailer floated in case we had to make a water crossing. The only drawback I found after trying it was that Grasshopper's range dropped to about 30 miles per day. Still better than a horse and wagon.

I stuffed that trailer with everything I thought I might need. And, on the third day in the early morning, I set off northward again leaving behind almost everything that I prepared to take with me to the lake. It had to be what had to be. I was disappointed but not broken. I would have walked if I had to.

Actually, it was easier to maneuver with the smaller, lighter rig. When the pulling got rough off road, I would unhitch the trailer and then drive Grasshopper to the end of its winch cable. Anchoring Grasshopper, I would then pull the trailer to it, sometimes 200 feet, with the front winch. I could also pull Grasshopper forward even when it couldn't go on its own. Saved a lot of brush cutting. I would just drive the rig as far as I can go into the brush, and then use the winch to pull it through rather than cut all the brush down and then try to drive through. I made better time than I thought I would that way.

The first day, I made it to a place called Battleground just after bypassing Lafayette. I assumed it was named from the Civil War that nobody was alive to care about anymore. Anyway, it was an ideal campsite, by a stream where I was able to catch a couple of bass for supper. I had loaded the trailer in such a way that I could unload a section each night for my bed with a place for Rocky next to me so we wouldn't have to sleep on wet ground if it rained.

My crossbow, my rifle with a scope, and my shotgun were stored near my head with ammunition. I saved two large tarps. One to cover Grasshopper in the rain and the other to cover the trailer. During the day, both tarps were stored on top of the supplies in the trailer. Not expecting rain that first night, I set up a perimeter wire that ran all the way around the trailer and electrified it. Rocky was smart enough not to get shocked. But night critters sneaking up were usually not and got a surprise. I could sleep comfortably except when there was a storm. Had to always make sure that I was on high ground and had the tarp secure enough to handle high winds. I had plenty of rope to tie everything down for that.

The next morning, it was about midmorning before all the batteries were fully charged and I could leave. I picked up Indiana 43 and headed straight north through what had been, farming country that was rather flat and unchallenging. In midafternoon, making good time, I saw something coming that disturbed me and reached for my rifle as well as my other weapons that I always carried in Grasshopper during the day. It was a pride of lions coming my way quite rapidly down the long tunnel that was created by heavy brush and trees on both sides of the two lanes as far as I could see. There was no getting out of the way of this bunch. There would be a confrontation.

I also kept my few remaining Roman candles and what was left of my bear spray in Grasshopper in case I needed it. I thought fast and decided to try to scare them immediately while they were still a half-mile away. I aimed my rifle so the bullet would skip along the pavement and wouldn't hit an animal. And fired a couple of shots. I hadn't heard that sound that reverberated down the road for some time or felt the kick of the rifle. It seemed unfamiliar even though I had sighted in that rifle often so that it would be accurate when I needed it.

The lions looked a bit confused and changed their pace a bit, but then, continued to lope my way as though nothing had disturbed them. Nothing probably did, except perhaps wolves or an occasional bear. But these cats were at the top of the food chain and the unfamiliar sound of a rifle firing and bullets skipping didn't seem to be anything of any harm to them. They kept coming. I cautioned Rocky not to bark by tapping his nose and holding him close.

Reluctantly, I got out a Roman candle and was prepared to use it. The lions came directly up to us in Grasshopper and I shot the lead male with a huge mane directly in the nose. I then turned my shots toward the others trying to aim for their heads so they would feel the fiery sting. The big male stopped and sat on his haunches, batting away at his nose with his paws, looking confused. He then bolted and ran right past me with my 357 Magnum following his every move, ready to fire. The other lions followed and ran past as well. I turned around and saw their tails bobbing as they very soon disappeared down the road behind me.

As Rocky shook and whimpered next to me, I realized that was a good reason I was leaving the semi tropical region to go further north into a temperate zone. I still couldn't figure out how those lions had adapted to winter and thrived from the looks of them. But there was plenty of food and they were adapting like wildlife always did. I remembered that there were Siberian tigers fully adapted to way below zero temperatures. I hoped none of them were loose where I was going.

The next night, I made double sure that the electric perimeter was sound, knowing that I wouldn't have much chance if lions had come in the night. There were plenty of thorny trees and bushes in the brush that lined the road, but nothing like what Africa provided to keep people and their livestock safe at night there. I slept fitfully but nothing out of the ordinary occurred. Rocky slept soundly. I missed Charlie once again. His furry little body curling up next to me.

I needed no compass or map because US 141 set a course straight north to my destination, Michigan City. With no more incidents and good sunshine except for one rainy day, we made it in five days. And then, the real search began.

Unfortunately, Michigan City didn't offer what I was looking for--a boat. Fortunately, Burns Harbor was only a short distance down lake on I-12 and I wasted no time arriving there to see what I could find. There were boats, but most of them were in very bad shape, many sunk in the harbor and didn't fill my need. I dreaded the idea of going into Chicago. Began to think I would have to until I came upon a concrete pier with a concrete block building on it that looked promising.

Inside, I found boats. Some of them stored high and dry and could only be put in the water by a forklift. And there was one sailboat, a 30 foot fiberglass one, while very dusty and dirty, was just raised above the water on a slip that led out into Lake Michigan. Thankfully, I found what I was looking for.