far too much writing, far too many photos

[continued from previous entry]

I backed slowly down the road, saw that not too far along the land to the right appeared solid. Looked like it would be easy to pull off there, turn around, head down the hill. And I was right — it was solid, backing off there to turn around would have been a snap. If I pulled off at the right place. But I didn’t stop the car to take a careful look around, gauge how far I needed to go. Didn’t think I needed to, apparently. And when I turned to back off onto the roadside — five feet too soon — the car’s rear wheels slipped down a deep washout. Deep enough that me and my little all-wheel drive vehicle were stuck, not going anywhere without some careful help from a bigass towing rig.

Not much fun, moments like these, where you realize you’ve gotten into something that’s about to send your day skidding off in unexpected directions. (Heh.) Though in this case I had the funny feeling there was nothing to be concerned about. Might sound stupidly counterintuitive, but there it was, strong and clear. I’d get to my friend’s home after a ten-minute walk along lovely country roads (sunshine pouring down, friendly breezes keeping most blackflies away), I’d call AAA, we’d see what would happen.

Ten minutes later, I stood rapping at her front door. The family dog, Lacey, began making a fuss off at the back of the house, appeared a moment later holding a big floppy stuffed animal in her mouth, barking around it as she advanced toward me (looking like she was throwing her voice), D. behind her beaming. She has an infectious smile, D., and a great, loud laugh. Hugged her, made nice to Lacey.


Called AAA, arranged a tow. Sat at the dining table chatting, sipping tea, until the tow driver called, when we ran out to D.’s car and tooled up over the hill, parked as close as possible, hiked down to my vehicle where the towing guy already stood, scoping out the scene. Seeing my car fresh like that made me appreciate the goofiness of the situation all over again. Car at a 45 degree angle front to back, teetering on edge of road, rear half down in big washout. (BIG washout.) An amazing image. And me, inexplicably sure everything would work out just fine.

Towing guy got the lay of the land, pulled his monster rig a few feet from my little vehicle, hooked up a tow line, got to work. Slow, careful work, himself clearly a crane jockey who knew what he was doing. Pulling the car up a few inches at a time, the front end slowly skidding over to point downhill a bit instead of at right angles to the road. (My heart pounding for a minute or two as he began working.) Working methodically, conscientiously. Until my car stood up on the road, rear wheels right at the edge of the washout.

Towing guy and I checked out the car, found no damage. I followed his rig slowly down the hill, checked the car a second time at the bottom. Again, no damage — nothing bent, no liquids dripping from ruptured lines. Everything fine, the day picking up where it left off, the only difference being that I’d had a bizarre, unexpected adventure.

[continued in next entry]

EspaƱa, te echo de menos.

4 Responses to “heading south, part III”

  1. alphawoman

    What an adventure!! Have not visited in awhile….love the new picture!

  2. rws

    thanks, aw. :)

  3. Suray

    Beautiful dog…

  4. rws

    she is. and a total sweetheart as well.

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