"My grandpa Harry always told me 'Hurry is good only for catching flies.' He'd tell me this when I would get impatient when we were fishing when I was a kid. I think he told me this at least fifty times when we were out fishing together."
MacGyver stood at the top of the peak watching the clouds roll in. In the pit of his stomach he knew those were storm clouds. There had been no call for rain in the weather forecast three days earlier when he had left for his hiking trip. He was glad he'd brought his raingear anyway.
The day had been beautiful. There was no pending assignments, no crazy calls from Jack, just peace, quiet and nature. It was just where he needed to be. Standing up, he threw his pack on his back and headed back toward his campsite. The sun would be setting soon and he needed to prepare for the rain.
Sitting on a rock by the fire he could smell the changes in the atmosphere. He whittled with his pocket knife until the first drops of rain fell. Smothering the fire, he headed into the tent for the night. The sun had only been down for a short while, but he wasn't going to sit in the rain all evening.
The rhythm of the rain sent Mac into a peaceful sleep. It had been some time since he could truly rest. There had been so many things in his life that caused deep grief and sorrow, he was finally able to relax and get some true rest.
MacGyver jolted awake as he heard the snap of a branch land a few feet away from his tent. This was not going to be a safe place for him if the storm continued much longer. Putting his boots on, he tied them tight.
"Awe, come on!" he exclaimed to himself as he heard what sounded like hail hitting the outside of the tent. The rain jacket he had on would keep him warm and dry for a while, but the weather wasn't letting up. He decided to head back down as soon as it started to get light outside. He grabbed his pack and threw it over his back.
He chose to leave the wet tent where it was as it would just add weight to his pack. With having a wet pack the added weight of a wet tent and bedroll would definitely slow his progress down.
As mid morning approached the hail had already turned into a wet heavy blanket of snow. As he made his way back down the mountain, his journey became more risky. The snow hid branches, rocks and other debris making him listen to Harry's advice.
By mid afternoon the weather had reached blizzard conditions. He remembered the small cabin that he passed on his way up the mountain two days prior. It would be some time before he came across it again. Digging his boots into each step, he kept going.
The snow continued to fall heavily. With each passing hour MacGyver trudged his way through the several new inches of snow. It was now up to his knees and getting more difficult to make his way through when he finally saw the cabin off in the distance.
It was well past dark when he finally arrived at the cabin. It was dark, looked to be vacant when he banged on the door with his wet fist.
"Hello?" he yelled loudly, "Anyone in there?"
After not receiving any response to his banging and knocking, he tested the knob. As expected, it was locked. Pulling out his swiss army knife, he slowly manipulated the lock to the open position.
"Hello?" he yelled as he opened the door. "I'm coming inside, is anyone here?"
The cabin was dark as night. He could barely make out the fireplace on the opposite wall of the door. Entering the cabin, he placed his wet pack on the floor by the door as he closed it. Brushing this sleeves to remove some snow, he headed toward the fireplace.
He could hear the crackling of glass under his boots as he crossed the floor. It looked as though the cabin hadn't been used in several years. He noticed a few pieces of wood sitting next to the hearth of the fireplace. Hoping they were dry he picked up one and placed it in the fireplace. He searched the vicinity which he stood for something to help start the fire, something flammable.
He found a newspaper on the floor by a broken chair and used that for kindling along with pieces of the chair. Once the fire was burning he removed his wet jacket. The heat from the fire warmed him only slightly. Returning to his pack, he pulled out his wet items and placed them around the fireplace area, hoping they would dry quickly. He sat by the fire slowly warming up, rubbing his hands every so often to help warm them as well.
This was his vacation. He was supposed to be hiking up the mountain, taking at least a week to enjoy being back around nature. He had told Pete that he would be gone at least ten days. This is not the way he had planned on spending his time with nature. If he wanted to be in a cabin he would go to Pete's new cabin near Widowmaker Canyon. He wanted to spend his time hiking and fishing.
He sat thinking quietly about the past years he had worked for Pete. He was a great friend and was grateful for that. Then there was Penny Parker, no matter what she was trying she was always energetic and threw herself into her latest idea one hundred percent. He had anticipated Jack calling him the day he left to come help him with some new kakamame plan of his, but was relieved when that didn't happen.
As exhaustion overcame him, he slowly drifted to sleep. The sounds of the wind whistled as it tried to make its way through the windows. The cabin was full of drafts as the night went on. Slowly, the sunlight of a new day crept through the dirt covered windows.
When MacGyver awoke, the cabin felt as bitter as the air outside the night before. Realizing that the fire went out, he looked around for more wood to burn. As the morning light crept through the cabin, he saw dirt covering almost every level surface. He noticed scuff marks on the floor to his left. Had he been over there last night and not remembered?
There was something unusual about this cabin. There was one small table cleared of dirt with a small paper bag sitting on it in the corner. He surveyed the rest of the cabin quietly. The door had been locked, so someone did come here at one time. The furniture included the broken chair he had spotted the night before as well as a stool near the clean table. There was a small bed up against the outer wall. The mattress had no bedding on it. It looked as though an animal had tried to dig its way into it to stay warm at one point. There was a small kitchen near door where he came in. The refrigerator's door was hanging by one hinge and had grime covering every part of what he could see.
Seeing the refridgerator in the kitchen, he realized there must be a generator. Putting his dry flannel on, he headed outside to look for one.
The wind blew bitter snow in his face as he trudged through the deepening snow. It wasn't long before he found what he was looking for. Dusting the snow off the generator, he noticed that it seemed to be in better condition than the rest of the cabin. Opening the lid to the fuel tank, he was surprised to see it was almost completely full.
"Now let's see if it starts," he said to himself. Grabbing the pull cord, he gave it a yank. Nothing. It didn't take him long to find the cause of the malfunctioning generator, the spark plug was missing. He kicked it with his boot with frustration.
The snow was falling thicker now. It was difficult to see farther than the front of the cabin. He was defiantly not prepared for a blizzard, let alone this cold. He looked around him searching for more wood for the fire. After finding a decent arms full of wood, he returned to the dry cabin.
Time is now what he seemed to have. It would be sensible for him to stay in the cabin until the snow stopped, then he could be on his way.
He thought about his many trips and assignments he'd been on as he started to clean up the cabin. How so often his life was in jeopardy, he was glad to be in the middle of a snowstorm for a change. This was nothing life threatening, only uncomfortable and unplanned.
As he cleaned up the cabin he tried to keep his mind occupied on the positive things he'd done over the years. He was tired of the non-stop life he'd been leading. This was definitely a break he needed. He cleaned of the dirty mattress as it looked like he'd be there another night. Making a pile of the broken furniture near the hearth, he wondered who owed the cabin. The small table was the last area he headed to. The small paper bag still sat on the table.
Looking inside the bag, he released the tension in his shoulders and shook his head. The bag contained one small item, a spark plug.
"You've got to be kidding me!" he exclaimed as he pulled the spark plug out. "Ok, let's go give it a try."
Once returning to the generator, he screwed the plug where it belonged and tried to start the generator once again. This time, it started right up. The noise it created became a steady beat in the wooded area he was in. "Yes!" he exclaimed.
Returning to the cabin, he finished cleaning up the clutter. He knew he would be there at least one more night. This was giving him some down time that he needed. Time to just relax; nothing to really stress over, no assignments to complete and no one to get him into trouble.
As he made his way around the small cabin, he noticed a door hidden in the back. It had been covered by several stray slats of wood. As he removed the wood he began to hear a slight noise from the other side of the door. At first he thought it was an animal in the room behind the door, until he could hear slight whimpers sounding human.