THE COMB RIDGE TRIANGLE

There's something about this area.  Like the Bermuda Triangle, bad things happen here.  Well, maybe not that bad, but I suppose it depends of if it's happening to you.

Two years ago when we were here, we came across a couple who's pickup truck had broken down.  With no cell phone coverage and 30 miles to the nearest town, it's not the best place to have car trouble.  We did our good deed and gave them a ride to town.  On this trip, in the same general vicinity, we came across a family with the hood up on their car.  Out of gas, we gave them our two gallons that we happen to be carrying and followed them to town just to make sure they made it.  If that's not weird enough, the very next day we met Bret and his wife Tammy.

While exploring a canyon and its ruins, we came across Bret and Tammy doing the same.  As we were looking at the same ruin, we exchanged info on each other's discoveries.  The ruin we were exploring had a very deep and dark cave behind the crumbling wall.

DEEP AND DARK CAVE

Bret climbed down into the darkness with me following some distance behind.  When it got to the point where I couldn't see where I was going, I stopped.  Bret didn't.  I heard  him fall, so I asked if he was alright.  After a pause, he said he was OK but had dropped his camera.  I waited for a while and he said he was still searching for his lens cap.  I figured he would be ok, so we headed up canyon to the next ruin.  Not being able to get into the next ruin, we turned around and started back towards the trialhead.  As we passed the cave ruin, I looked up and there was Bret and Tammy just coming out of the ruin.  Bret yelled something about hurting his knee. It looked like he was having trouble walking, so I took Cathie's walking stick  and climbed up to give it to him.  He had his knee wrapped in a couple of bloody handkerchiefs, but Tammy had the presence of mind to snap this photo before stemming the blood flow.

THE KNEE

We opted to stick with Bret and Tammy, to make sure they made it back to their car.  After about a 45 minute stroll, with Bret limping along, we made it to the trail head.  Due to this area being in the Comb Ridge Triangle, I was really concerned about their car starting, but our luck held and they were shortly on the way to the local hospital.

BRET ON THE WAY OUT

THE FINISHED PRODUCT

I've been wondering why all these things keep happening.  Do bad things come in threes?  Could it be a coincidence? Is there really a Comb Ridge Triangle?  Perhaps it's the Anasazi gods.  All I know is I'm glad we're on our way home.