Hitch 13: The Rand Boys


The Fellowship

Three shovels for the Jawbone ladies under the sky

Seven for the Randy boys of the mountain halls

Nine helmets for the Mortal Men doomed to dig,

One management area for the Desert Tortoise on his dusty throne

In the Land of Rands where the lithified soils lie.

One cause to rule them all, One purpose to find them, One desert tortoise to bring them all and in the dust bind them

In the Land of Jawbone where the Open areas lie.

This hitch was especially heartfelt as it was our last hitch in the Jawbone-Butterbredt area. Though, we did not begin our adventure there. No, our adventure began far away across the El Paso Mountain range. The Fellowship of Rands was originally a 5 member team, who then joined forces with the Fellowship of Jawbone to combat against the dark lord. Together this Fellowship of 10 brought together their powers and strength to rise to the occasion. It all began on a small dusty corner, under the sun god, of a polygon where 6, nay, 7 obstructions stood between them and their next step. Relentlessly, the fellowship defeated the 7 enemies sent by the dark lord himself. Tyler, with his elven eyes saw far over the El Paso range, through dust, smog, and desolation, more dark figures moving in the night. It was brought to the attention of the Fellowship. We knew that we must pursue the dark forces for they will only grow ever more powerful the longer we wait to act. Over the next day, we picked up our camp and traversed around the El Paso Mountain Range; for we knew the El Paso pass to be cursed and full of shadows. The Jawbone ladies chose the southern route to bask in the glory of the Red Rock. The Randy boys choose a northern route to resupply in the small town of Inyokern. However, in the otherwise quiet journey north, an orc group ambushed us and left our steed injured. It wasn’t until later in the day, were we able to rejoin the fellowship and tell them tales of bravery and hardship shown by Riley, Son of Texas. Leaving the orcs alongside the 395 road to rot, we started our ascent on the dark forces of Jawbone. Over the next few days the fellowship battled hard and continued to come out on top, with every victory a little more light shone through in these times of dark. It was until one night, the darkness had crept on us, that an ambush of wind swept through the camp. This was no ordinary wind, no, this was some sorcery previously unknown to us. Wind picked up sand and threw it at us in the shape of swords. Slowly tearing away at our sanity and leaving our camp in ruins. With most of our supplies dwindling, and half of the fellowship injured, countless days and nights have passed with no sleep. Kyle the Beige, stood up to the wind, and with a great thunderous voice that shook the heavens and awoke the coyotes of the night he threw down his staff yelling “YOU SHALL NOT PASS!” That night and every night after, the fellowship slept well under the stars of old. 

Dan the magnificent heard whispers of a site further north holding ancient ruins with powers to fight against the darkness. So the Randys said their farewells to the Jawbone ladies, to head north. It was there in, the northern Portuguese canyon pass that ancient civilizations held secrets to combating the dark. Here, the fellowship of Rands found the remains of lost brethren fallen long ago to a darkness unfathomably powerful. Wary to spook the lost and curse our souls forever, we retreated back south to bring our new knowledge to the Ladies of Jawbone. Only, when we returned, there were no more signs of the ladies. Using tracking skills picked up by traveling rangers, Riley was able to interpret the last hours of our ladies by the tracks left in the dirt. They had fled, but not without casualties. They lost 3 of the 5. With revenge stinging in our eyes, we looked to the darkness growing in the south. We began our last venture south, knowing that we may not fare well. Tyler approached the group with knowledge of something creeping in the shadows. He had no information other than this shadow made sounds of flatulence followed by a high-pitched “excuse me”. It was said that we had no time for trivial matters, even if this shadow crept in the night stealing food at opportune moments. We must push on.  And south we pushed down into the darkness, un-wielding the Dark Lord and his incursions. The last enemy of the battle lay slain on the dusty barren landscape with the Fellowship of Rands standing above, shovels in hand. The heavens opened up and as the dust settled the sun shone through revealing a better place, a brighter place, a beautiful place. A place unhindered by unruly OHVs. And it was there, that the Fellowship said goodbye to Jawbone and in great faith left the sacred area to live out its years un-weathered by the dark forces.