This is a partially true, partially fictional event that I created while on a road trip. The reader can decide what parts are fictional. Names and places have been omitted or changed to protect the guilty.

---------------------------------------------------------

I had been working long hard hours at the office for several months and I was beginning to loose my energy and concentration. I decided I needed a little time away from work for rest and relaxation. Road trips to "nowhere" are one of my favorite types of trips. No planning, no airplanes or airports, few hassles. So I packed up a few changes of clothes, some toiletries, a coat and a camera, filled up the tank of my 4WD Jeep Cherokee and on Saturday morning I left on a new adventure into the unknown.

This trip I headed North and West into the Rocky Mountains. After my divorce all trips I took were usually by myself. Most everyone I knew was either married, working, or both, or unemployed and looking for work. This trip was no exception to solo travel.

I had been on the road for two days and I was now into new and unfamiliar beautiful country. The late summer weather was warm by day, cool by night, and photogenic clouds helped to make every photograph frameable. With the help of paper and GPS maps, navigating my way was easy and fun. On my third day I decided to travel a few more miles than I normally like to travel on any single day. This meant that I would be driving for a little while after sunset. Driving in the dark was something I always tried to avoid. Besides missing the scenery I don't like headlights coming at me and it is easier to get lost.

My GPS travel guide indicated that a cafe and motel were located off the main highway in a designated scenic area. I estimated I would arrive about 8 PM.so I would not have dinner until I arrived at the cafe. Towns, motels and restaurants were few and far between anyway. I stuck to my plan to avoid making advance reservations, which in remote undeveloped areas can be a mistake, but I had some travel food and I could always sleep in my Jeep. Being mid-September there were few tourists so the motel, if open, should not be crowded. If something else seemed better along the way I might change my plan.

After sunset the moonless sky made for a very dark night. The lack of traffic on the well paved 2 lane highway was a relief. At long last I finally arrived close to my destination. At the S15 sign I turned off the main road and discovered that the side road was not paved. I stopped the car to check the GPS locator on my phone. There was no phone service in this remote area and my GPS was not working. My paper map indicated that I should be on the correct road. About eight miles from the main road I saw a sign that announced the cafe and motel was 500 yards ahead. I was regretting my decision to drive into the night. Arriving late at night in an unknown destination was making me a bit uncomfortable. As I drove towards the cafe I was relieved to see that the lights were still on. I hoped it was still open. I could see no cars in the parking area which was dimly lit occasionally by an out of place neon sign that flashed on and off........PIZZA ..... PIZZA .

This late on a Thursday night I was not surprised at the lack of customers. The gravel of the unpaved parking area crunched as I drove towards the front door of the cafe. As I walked from my car to the restaurant I got a cold stabbling feeling that I was being watched. Being in such an unfamiliar remote place, all alone, at night, I shrugged off the feeling as being just a little anxiety.

An metal bell on a spring above the door announced my arrival as I entered the cafe. There were no customers. A old small tube type TV mounted on the wall was on and carried some regional sporting event. I felt at best bored and at worst uneasy being there alone this late at night. But that was part of the adventure, visiting unknown places without a plan, carefree. I had met many nice people in places similar to this.

At that moment a short stout older woman dressed in a classic old world long dress that was protected by a well used apron came through a door that led to the kitchen. Her warm friendly smile helped me to feel comfortable and at home. She greeted me and ask me if I would like something to drink. I had already been looking at the menu and I decided to order a beer and the house specialty; pizza, of course, with regional seasonal toppings. I asked her about the toppings. She said it varies from day to day. Somtimes vegetarian, sometimes sausage, sometimes pepperoni. It just depended what was available. Today, she said, we are are out of meat toppings so we are serving vegetarian pizza, but tomorrow I will be serving a specialty of the house meat topping. She assured me I would not be disappointed with the pizza or today's toppings. Available today was grilled onions and mushrooms, red and yellow peppers, and some pineapple if I wanted it, and cheese of my choice. It all sounded mouth watering so I ordered the works with mozarella cheese..

The pizza was great as was the beer. I ordered a beer before the pizza, and a beer with the pizza. The TV helped keep the place from being unbearably quiet.

After I had finished my meal she brought the check and another beer which she said was on the house. What she really wanted was just a little conversation. She asked me where I was from, where I was going, what I did for a living, was I travelling alone, and I told her. I asked her about what there was to see and do in the area and about staying at the motel next door. She said that the motel was open and empty tonight, although it would almost be full on Friday and Saturday night. She said that she and her son owned the motel and cafe. Her husband had been the driving force to develop the motel and cafe. After he died the two of them stayed on and kept both in operation. She told me that both businesses, although seasonal, provided them with food, money shelter and while they were not getting rich, they were getting by. She usually did all of the cooking but on weekends one or two of the nearby local residents would work part time to help them.

I drank the beer she brought to me, paid the bill, and left her a nice tip. As I was leaving she said she had called her son and he would have a key to my room ready and waiting for me at the motel lobby. I drove the short distance from the cafe to the motel lobby. Inside was the lady's son. At first I did not see him. He was sitting in a wheel chair behind the lobby counter. He was about 40 or 45 years old I guess. He looked a little bit like his mother. I checked in, charged the room to my Visa card, exchanged a little small talk with him, thanked him and drove the car to the far end of the motel building where he said my room was located.

Except for the very dim lights at the entry to each motel room there was no other light. Sometimes it feels good to get away from it all, and then again, sometimes when no one else is around it gets a little spooky and uncomfortable, which is how I felt right now. Visions of Alfred Hitchcock's Bates Motel entered my thoughts, and I quickly forced that thought out of my mind.

When I got out of the car I could hear a fairly loud rushing of water from a stream or small river just behind the trees and bushes that were next to my room. The air smelled fresh and clean. It would be nice sleeping with a window slightly open tonight. As I opened up the trunk of my car to get my suitcase, suddenly, I thought I heard the rapid approach of footsteps. A chill of fear ran up my spine. Before I could turn to see who was approaching me a cloth or bag had been placed over my head by one person and two other strong people bound my my hands, arms and legs with some type of rope. Although I was wiggling and struggling with all my effort I could not break free to defend myself. As I struggled I was picked up and carried. It felt as if I was being put into the back seat of a car. I heard car doors open. Several people, 2 or 3 it might have been, had gotten into the car. The doors closed and the car moved forward. Nothing was said by anyone. I was trying to scream but the heavy cover over my head muffled the sound.

It was at that point where I felt my shirt sleve being rolled up followed by a stab of a sharp point into my arm. Shortly after that everything went dark.

Road Trip is continued in Part 2.