Table Mesa Road

As we came down the road I looked to the left at a quarry, and wondered about what they were mining and why the mining company could get away with leaving such an open scar on the land. As the pit of the quarry came into view I saw a red Suburban on it's roof just below a 15 foot ledge. It had obviously gone off the ledge and done a half gainer onto its roof. I said "That wasn't there when we were on our way up". As if on cue, an arm and a leg and then then a whole man emerge from the window of the Suburban. He was slightly staggering and didn't pay any attention to us as we pulled our truck down into the quarry bed about 50 feet from the truck. We both hopped out and approached the man, offering assistance.

Also see a topo map of the area

"You OK."

"Yeah" said the man even though he was bleeding from a gash in his forehead and from his nose.

"You want some water?"
"No"
"Was there anyone else in the truck."
"No"
"You should sit down man, take it easy"
"I'm OK."
"Do you want a ride to a phone?"
"I already called someone."
"You sure?" He didn't answer.

He walked toward a big rock under a tree. Scott said "He looks out of it."

"Yeah, with a bump on his head like that he could be in shock."
We checked the Suburban to see if there was anyone else in there. There was a strong smell of gas so we didn't stand around long. We got in the truck and headed down the hill. The man wasn't in sight. I thought he had either sat down on the rock or started down the road but we didn't see him as we drove. I said "He ain't on the road Scott, he took off."
"Maybe the truck was stolen"
"Maybe, but it doesn't seem right that he would be joyriding by himself"

We drove on and about 300 yards down the road there was a woman walking. She listlessly flagged us down.

"Where you guys headed?"
"Into Phoenix. Were you in that red truck?"
She mumbled to herself "That asshole, I told him I should drive." Then to us "Can I get a ride?"
"Yeah, we'll take you to a phone"
"I don't want to be on any reports. I don't want to talk to no cops."

I asked her what happened.

"He's drunk. He showed up at my place after he got off work at noon. Said he wanted to show me this area. Said it was like his back yard like he was raised here or something. I wanted to go to the Zoo and look at some animals. He wanted to get some beers and shoot his gun. He shot off a clip of his 9mm and then wanted to drive around, you know, wheelin'. We got on top a that thing and I told him to let me drive, he was too drunk. He got up on there and got stuck. I told him to back up but it evidently hurt his manhood or something to not be able to make it. I told him we were gonna go off; nose-dive it, and he went on and hit the gas and sure nuff, we nose-dived it. I saw it coming and held on and the next thing I knew I was on my back on the roof. The door was stuck so I crawled out of the side rear window that had busted out. I told him to get the keys and come on cuz I smelled gas. He got out but left the keys in the car. He was bleeding and wouldn't sit down. I thought he was out of it. He was acting crazy so I just left him there and started walking down the road.

We pulled into the funky gas station that is at the New River exit. We stopped in front of the DANGER GILA MONSTERS sign. Scott got out to make the call to 911 and I stayed in the truck with the woman.

She was kind of skinny but had a round belly that she was showing between her little brown zip up top and her joe boxer shorts that had pictures of hot dogs with mustard on them all over it. She kept taking off her cheap scratched up sunglasses and messing around with them as if she was worried that they were bent out of shape. She looked like she had about 33 years of hard living under her belt.

Scott got back in the truck. "We've got to go back, they want us there to make sure they find it."

"Man, I don't need to talk to any cops" the woman said, but makes no move to leave the truck.

We drove back to the exit and waited for the Sheriff. He was there in about 4 minutes. He blazed ahead of us in his 4x4 chevy, his flashing lights fading in a trail of dust that made the road hard to see.

When we reach the Suburban we are joined by a New River fire truck, an ambulance from Southwest Ambulance and a Rural Metro fire pickup. The rural metro guy is pure rodeo, he has on spurs and little chaps on his boots. Everyone except the Sheriff has really bad haircuts.

We tell all these guys our stories and the sheriff decides to call in Fox 1, the DPS helicopter. In about a minute the heli was overhead searching the rugged cholla covered hills for the missing driver. We were all concerned that he may be disoriented in the desert. There was only about 35 minutes of daylight left by that time.

I found out the woman's name is Wendy. She got an ice pack from the ambulance and told her story to the Sheriff without exactly saying that her friend was drunk as hell and stupid to boot. I asked to see her eye and when she showed it to me she said "The black eye is an old one". Then continued to mumble some excuse that she knew wouldn't be believed.

The helicopter spent about 15 minutes searching with no luck. I told Scott that I think the man doesn't want to be found. I tried to estimate the cost of all this emergency response and said to Scott "This guy is really burning some tax dollars with this one."

We drove Wendy into Phoenix. She seemed more relaxed after leaving the wreck scene. Maybe she was relieved the sheriff didn't do a warrant check on her. She told us that she has only known the gut for 4 months. He is married and has 3 kids and one on the way. She said "Life was getting down on him with a $1000 mortgage and 3 kids and all. He was real depressed and I'm telling you he may have nose-dived it on purpose. He was talking real crazy before then he just wanted to shoot his 9mm. He popped off a clip then I said let's go eat but he wanted to drive. I'm about to faint I'm so hungry and I didn't even get to see any animals."

I said "Yeah, me neither" before I remembered that she was talking about the zoo and not looking for mountain lions and hawks out there in the desert hills.

If the man was really as depressed as Wendy said, he better not have any more bullets in that 9mm. I thought for a second that he might kill himself out there; depressed and afraid to face his wife. But then it seemed much more likely that he was just hiding out from a DUI.

We dropped Wendy off at a trailer park in Glendale. She asked us our names and said thanks. As Scott and I drove back to his house in the twilight I said "What a good story, I'm really gonna get some mileage out of this one next week."

Michael Cornelius