"Sharing The Adventure"

The Adventure
One thing my Ex ever did was to hammer into the kids heads to share. Last night, my step son shared something with me...Adventure.
Here I was, tired, sleepy and just about to go to bed when...Knock. Some one was at the door. He and his GF were riding around up on some logging roads near the house here. They were stuck. Not only were they stuck, they were Stuck Bigger Than Shit. A Four Wheeler has gotten stuck on this road. It was pitch black like the Panamanian night. Those two souls had to feel their way out of there...Laurels grown up all thick. He wanted to get his Grand Father's( he call's him Pa Pow) help, but, I said to let me look at it first. Well, I go look. I was going to need better light and my lantern's mantle is broke. The boy thought it would be easy, but, would require a chain saw. Well, it wasn't easy. And we didn't use a chain saw. We go and get his Pa Pow, who I could tell by the look on his face felt like ringing his neck. We tried his big F150 he uses for hauling wood and a tow chain. Nope, she ain't budging. I was in the kids truck trying to back it out as it was being pulled. Love birds are watching nervously. As I was looking back I saw something black go right between the bank and the truck. What the heck? It was the spare tire off of the F150. We're trying to pull the truck up hill. That tire rolled 200 yards down the hill. OK, like I said, it didn't budge.

We got it out of there today. It took four chains, one steel cable, a 1 ton come along, a 1 1/2 ton come along and 3 1/2 hours of labor to pull that truck about 160 feet up the hill. That old road goes along the side of an old clear cut(probably cut off back in the 70's) where we had to pick our trees to hook up to.

It Ain't Bad
That boy has 350 heads on a 305 engine. But, I've gotten myself stuck before. And, so has his Pa Pow. We shared a story or two. One time, I followed a logging road off in the night. I turned around, the road was no big deal. But, just inside the curve I turned in was a foot deep hole that was just big enough to swallow my front tires. We had just gotten about 9 inches of rain that week and the leaves were slick. I had no idea who's property I was on and it was a way's to a phone. I had to put my tow rope, sticks and my coat under the tires as I rocked it back and forth for a half hour in Four Low. I burned up 1/8th a tank of gas. I was ever so relieved to get out of there. Some time later I found out I was on the biggest Ass Hole on that side of the county's property. A few years later, we both did something good for each other. So, it ain't bad.

Talkin' bout my generation
It's an Appalachian thing. It goes for the rural South in general. If the property is just woods, not posted and your not hurting anything, no one minds if you go on it. Something the outsiders that have come in don't understand . It's like the boy's Pa Pow said. When he was a youngin' hogs still ran loose(1940's). Everyone's was marked. Of course some where ferral and they would shoot them. If you shot someone's on accident, you gave them half of it and nothing was said. Just don't abuse anything. It's a way that is dieing. And yes, sometimes any more someone will abuse something. I believe the son's of the pioneers thing has died with my generation.


Between going to see Son Volt Friday night and the great stuck truck adventure I'm rather tired. I have to be at work two hours early as well. Special thanks to Ed for the post title. (and you thought it involved a girl...)

Free yourself and let you inner hog run free!
Appalachian Intellectual