Fishing for Cars

Guest Post from Little Brother, Blair!
 

We had just finished the Christmas season and, not to my liking, I had returned to high school and my normal routine: Drag myself out of bed early, milk the cow and feed the young bulls and heifers, go to school, return home, feed the young bulls and heifers, milk the cow, eat mom’s wonderful meals, go tinker/build something in the shop, go to bed. Repeat.

I admit, the routine got a little boring so if it was broken up some, I was happy for the change. 

One Saturday night, I had just slipped into dreamland when I was suddenly rousted out of my sleep by a banging on the door.

I dragged myself out of bed, wondering why dad hadn’t appeared. I guess he was hoping I could take care of it and he wouldn’t have to.

There at the door were three people who had been to a cabin several miles down the road in the forest reserve area.

Apparently, they had been at a party at said cabin.

Apparently, they had had a good time at the party.

Apparently, that good time had impaired the driver’s ability and she drove off the road into a ditch full of snow.

Apparently, the driver had a very good time at the party.

Now this trio needed their car pulled out of the ditch.

I grabbed some chains, fired up the truck and drove about a mile down the road to where they had taken their unscheduled detour.

It was a beautiful clear winter night.

There was a nice layer of snow in the fields and the moon was bright, which made it possible to see a long distance.

Just a day prior to this encounter with our partying visitors, there was a stiff wind that had cleared the roads and placed all of the snow in the ditches.

Subsequently, the roads had no ice patches on them.

When we arrived at the ‘slightly diverted’ vehicle, I could see from the tracks that the driver had taken a very gradual path off the road, positioning her VW bug on about 2 feet of packed snow.

This gradual path was on a straight stretch of road and I was tempted to ask, “Were you so involved with singing 99 bottles of beer on the wall that you didn’t realize you were gradually driving into the ditch?” 

I looked at the car for an appropriate place to attach a chain. There were two ‘pipe’ type brackets that had once held a back bumper but nowhere to easily connect a chain.

I wrapped the chain around the bracket that held the front bumper, then hooked it to the truck and started to pull.

Watching through the rear view mirror, I saw the chain pull the bracket off the front and lay it and bumper on the snow.

The bumper still hung precariously from the bracket on the other side, but the part I had hooked to was toast. 

I needed to figure out a different solution.

I looked at the bracket and noted that it could be fixed by a good welder, but that wouldn’t help these people continue their journey now. And I didn’t think they would have enjoyed camping in the barn for the night.

I remembered that I had a large bundle of used bale twine in the back of the truck, a collection from all the hay I had fed the cows that day. I used it to tie the bumper to what was left of the front post.

Then, praying it would hold, I wrapped the chain around the pipe bracket in the back of the VW.

I guess my prayers were answered because the car pulled out with little trouble.

The driver was very happy and told me to stop by the A&W in Lethbridge where she worked and she would give me a Teen Burger Platter (my favorite).

But I guessed that when she sobered up, she would be extremely mad about me breaking her bumper. (I avoided A&W for a few months despite my love for Teen burgers. I didn’t want to get yelled at.)

All three partyers piled in the car and headed to Lethbridge.

I prayed they had sobered up enough not to get into an accident.

There was nothing in the papers so I guess they made their destination.

No news is good news!