Saturday, February 21, 2009

Friday Mud Madness!

It doesn't look the way it felt. Note the mud IN FRONT of the rear was tense for awhile!

I was home alone yesterday. I thought I heard them firing at the firing center, so I drove up to the side of the mountain so I could look down on the firing center to watch them fire canon or machine guns. I have done that before. My truck is a two wheel drive and I just have road tires on it. There is a spot up there that drops down on the North side of the hill. You look out and all you can see is firing center land and NSA Spy Installation and satellite dishes. It’s a tad steep in the summer, but if it’s dry it isn’t too much of a fuss.

The south side of the hill was nice and dry. I didn’t think anything of it. I got to the top and it was a bit muddy, but I did not worry, I intended to turn around. No need to negotiate that steep part. The truck was pointed slightly down hill, but seemingly stable. I got out, but could not determine if they were actually firing. It was a bit chilly. I looked at the ground…muddy. Hmmm.

I got back in and put it in reverse…whirrrrr-rrrr-rrrr…shit. The road dropped down a little and turned to the left, but rose again. Safe. So, I drove on down around the bend, assuming when I reached the top it would be dry and I would turn around and not have to worry about that steep section further on. I got to the top, but the truck tried to side-slip its ass off the road everytime I tried to turn it around. Crap. I thought, maybe my memory is off…surely, I could have taken a different way last time had I chosen, I will do that this time…

Then I realize, too late, there is no choice in the matter. Despite every attempt, I could not turn around. Ahead of me is that horrid steep drop down, at the end of which is that STEEEEEP rise. I resolved to keep my speed up, having noted that the mud had gotten to two or three inches deep!

I made a run…a tad too gently. I got to a spot about a 3rd of the way up the steep side, after having had some intense puckering moments as the rear end had flirted with mid-air, I had hesitated in my application of full throttle. My wheels spun and it begn to slip back down the hill. I did this several times, backing up for another run, concentrating on NOT being stuck up there. Each time, back and forth, the truck managed to come ever so close to the edge of the road and the possibility of ending up on firing center property without benefit of being on all four wheels(as in rolling down the hill).

I am not sure if I am impressing upon the reader the sketchiness of this thing I was doing. I should have taken a picture, but, well, I was concentrating on keeping the truck on the muddy road. It is not a wide track. It was frustratingly slippery! The mud deepened as I was there. Everytime I backed up, I would steer one direction and the truck would not oblidge in going that direction, I would tap the brakes and it would keep moving backwards, or sometimes...SIDEWAYS! It seemed the truck was acting wrong.

Finally, I noticed I seemed to have more traction on the snow drifts…not much, but it did not create the drag and suction that the mud did, still, not enough to get past the mark I had reached the first time.

Then I noticed a little bit more traction on the weeds, where large rocks sometimes lurk. I decided to aim for that. I did not let off the throttle and mud flew. The ass-end fish-tailed, but when I reached the weeds, she started to move…with agonizing slowness. Finally, I felt I needed to shift to second. For a fraction of a second I thought I might not make it. I glanced at the tach, and it was in the red…I did not dare let off the gas, I was still moving. The shift to second did the trick and the truck crawled slowly up the hill…the whole time I was willing it up the hill as much as I was driving it. I could not get stuck and need to call for help! Parish the thought! Such embarrassment! Of course, there was the thought of the swift and painful death I might suffer at Cora’s hands…Why did I agree to that life insurance?

Finally, I made it though. Adrenaline pulsed through my veins INSTEAD of blood…I resolve to buy mudders before I do that again!!!


Cora said...

Just be gald you did not have to call me. I would have said I hope you have a sleeping bag because you are camping out.
love ya

Grandma Blog said...

I'm glad I wasn't there is about all I can say. Not just glad, but very thankful.

E said...

I often wonder what it is with men and mud, and peeling out. I am intrigued. I just don't get it.

Anonymous said...

Your DAD would have gladly brought his Chevy 4X4 up and tried the winch out! We might even have been able to check out another wench out when we got back to town with the Toyota in tow. Actually we could have put either
Cora or you mother on the front of the Chevy to hold the front end down! Then we would have had a p.u. with two winches or wenches. That Toyota would've been the biggest thing I've ever fished out of the mud!