April 14, 2012

Hello world!

So – how do you get a 4x4 truck out of a water-filled trench? Not with a certified belief that you know it all. Previously I blogged of a good, rainy-day memory that ended with my 4-wheel drive sunk in a mountain meadow trench. This is the conclusion.

I had to wait two days for the weekend to arrive so the two male friends who I enlisted had time to make the trek into the mountains. Oh, and the cutie patootie co-ed who was with me when I sunk the truck came along for amusement and moral support.

Properly attired in boots and rain jackets against the drizzle, we slogged five miles along mud-slippery fire roads. The hike itself was not pleasant. What took its toll was carrying the 70 pound, heavy-duty chain come-along, the 50 pounds of steel cable, a long-handled sledge hammer, and the 20 pound four-foot steel spike. I had rented these items to extricate my truck. Having sunk the truck in the middle of a meadow there were no trees nearby to wrap the cable around. The plan was to pound the spike into the ground, wrap the cable around the truck's axle and then use the come-along anchored to the spike to wench the truck free. An excellent plan designed by me, a city boy from Los Angeles and a student engineer originally from San Francisco. The third boy was the muscle, a farm boy from a no-name hick town west of Oroville. The co-ed, she carried my book backpack of dry clothes, towels and miscellaneous tools. Someone was going to take a muddy swim. Yep, that would be me.

Reaching the meadows and seeing the nearby backhoe, the engineer said, "Let's use that." "Yeah," I replied. "You know how to hot wire it?" With that subject closed we assembled our contraption. The farm boy pounded the spike. I took the chilly dip. The engineer worked the come-along. The co-ed glowed.

With the cable taut, the truck shuddered and moved perceptively. Unfortunately, failure always follows ego. The saturated ground gave up the spike. The engineer and I moved the heavy spike three times, seeking hard pack, but the meadow had become a muddy bog. For three hours we certified boys endeavored to succeed in our well thought out plan. Exhausted and nearing the point of tossing in the proverbial towel, a sound reverberated, carrying with it the heavy smell of diesel.

With 'idiot' written on our faces, we city boys turned toward the backhoe. Seated in the driver's seat, grinning his hayseed smile, the farm boy shouted, "It's a push button ignition. It doesn't need a key."

Ten minutes later, with the farm boy expertly manipulating the controls, the backhoe had pulled my truck free. Needless to say, I finally learned the meaning of 'never judge a book by its cover'. Also, there is always a mind behind the muscles.

An hour later, after removing the spark plugs to empty the cylinders of water, cleaning the air filter and carburetor, I drove my 4x4 out of the mountains. In homage to the hero of the day, we stopped at Madison Bear Gardens to buy the farm boy several beers.