A few weeks ago, I decided I wanted to take a new route home from work. I meandered around looking for a new paved road to try and finally found one. So I was driving along, looking at, well, mostly pine trees because that's pretty much most of rural Georgia. All of a sudden I saw that my wonderful, poorly maintained, paved county road was about to end. Of course, Jeremy told me that I should not take my Honda Fit on dirt roads, especially since it has tiny tires, is not 4 wheel drive, and has about 1 foot of clearance. Of course, I figured the dirt road looked pretty good, so why not? After all, it couldn't go on that long, and then I'd have to hit another paved road. So after very little deliberation, off I went down the dirt road.
I was happily traveling along, when suddenly I came across a giant puddle (in retrospect, it might have been approaching small pond size) that stretched from one side of the road to the other. I stopped briefly and pondered the puddle dilemma. How deep could it actually be? I thought. I doubted it was very deep at all. I didn't want to turn around and go all the way back either, so my logical conclusion was just to head to the side of the road and go on through. As you have probably learned from numerous other posts, my logical conclusions are not always the best.
I put my foot down on the accelerator and eased over to the side of the road. I was heading through the puddle, through the puddle . . . stuck. In a puddle. On the side of a dirt road that had very little traffic and was probably a good half hour from my home. What to do. I got out of my car, waded through puddle, turned around, and stared at my car. Just as I was concluding that staring at my car from the road was not going to get me anywhere, I saw a school bus heading very rapidly toward the puddle I was now standing next to. The school bus went through the puddle, and, as you can imagine, dirt road chic was what I ended up wearing. It was not until that moment, dripping mud and puddle water, that I finally remembered I had my cell phone, so I waded back to the car and called Jeremy.
Jeremy: "This is Jeremy." --He always answers the phone like that. I'm not sure why. Who else would it be? Not like any of the dogs are going to answer the phone and do anything besides breath really heavily.
Me: "It's me. I have a little problem."
Jeremy: "What?"
Me: "I'm sort of stuck."
Jeremy: "You're stuck? Where? How did you get stuck?"
Me: "I tried to go through a puddle on a dirt road, and I got stuck."
Jeremy: silence. sigh. "Didn't I tell you not to drive the Fit on dirt roads?"
Me: "Yes, but the paved road I was on ended, and the dirt road looked just fine when I got on it and. . ."
Jeremy: another long, loud sigh. "Where are you?" See, this was yet another problem. I was just meandering around roads, so I knew how I got to where I was, but not so much where I was.
Me: "I'm not sure."
Jeremy: "What do you mean you're not sure? What did the road sign say?"
Me: "I decided to take a new way home, and when I turned onto the road, I didn't pay attention to what it was called."
Jeremy: "So, you are stuck in a puddle on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, and you don't know where you are?"
Me: "Yes, that pretty much sums it up."
Jeremy: in a very disgruntled voice. "Let me go find some stuff, and I'll head over in the truck. What way do I need to go?"
Me: "You go . . . . and then you go. . . and then you go. . ."
Jeremy: "Where? What way were you going? Where do I go after. . . ?"
Me: "I'm somewhere between Cochran, Easman, and Hawkinsville. But I'm not quite sure where because the road kinda twisted around a little."
Jeremy: "Alright. It's gonna take me at least 45 minutes to find you. I'll give you a call when I start getting close." Then I hear a click. He's apparently a tiny bit perturbed with me. Good thing he's got a drive ahead of him to cool down a bit. He should just think of it as a new version of Where's Waldo? Where's Lisa? Maybe this will make him get me that GPS I've been wanting.
After Jeremy hung up, I started to get a little bored. Contrary to what you might have thought, there really is not a whole lot to do when stuck on a secluded, dirt road. I began contemplating just where exactly things went wrong, how much it was going to cost to get all the mud off my car at the car wash, and how very poorly designed Honda Fits are for mudding. I basically decided that this was, in no way, my fault, but Honda's own design flaw. I also wondered if it was feasible to add 4 wheel drive to a Fit. As I was sitting there, suddenly, a beautiful, brilliant green John Deere tractor slowly pops up over the horizon and stops behind my Fit.
Mr. Tractor Driver: "Looks like you're stuck. Need a tow?" I could comment on how Mr. Tractor Driver was so stating the obvious, but, really, what do you say to a person who submerges a good chunk of her very clearly non-dirt road friendly car? I tried to explain my stupidity to Mr. Tractor Driver in a way that made me look slightly less inept, but really, there's no way to cover up that fact.
Mr. Tractor Driver: "I got a chain. Had to pull somebody else out of there this morning." I was instantly delighted. Yay! I wasn't the only one! "You know," he continues, "It's much better in the middle. If you had just gone through the middle of the puddle, you would have been fine." Great. Wonderful. I had briefly thought about going through the middle, but no. I had to pick the wrong way. In so many different ways. Mr. Tractor Driver hooked my car up, hopped in the cab, and within minutes, my little Fit was free! I could finally head home! I gave Jeremy a call quick to let him know he didn't have to come find me after all, and then I was off.
Later that night we were heading out of town.
"Stop at Shorty's first," Jeremy says, "I need a soda." I head toward the dirt alley across from our back driveway. "Where are you going?"
"I'm going to Shorty's," I reply. Where else would I be going?
"You're not taking the Fit on another dirt road."
"It's an alley in town! I am not going to get stuck in the alley behind the convenience store!"
"I don't care. No more dirt roads for the Fit. If you would have listened to me to begin with. . ." I sigh and turn onto the street to take the paved roads to the convenience store.
"So, where are you not going to drive the Fit?" Jeremy asks in his I'm talking to a child tone of voice, which is very annoying.
"On dirt roads. But what if it's been really dry?"
"No."
"But what if it's the only way to get somewhere?"
"No."
"But--"
"No."
"You're no fun. How am I supposed to find neat new roads to take?"
"That's what the truck is for. That's why it has 4 wheel drive. Not the Fit."
"But you never let me drive the truck."
"I did once, and you squealed the tires in the Home Depot parking lot."
"That was an accident. I hadn't driven it before. Does that mean I get to drive the truck more now?"
"No."
Guess it's back to figuring out if I can outfit the Fit with 4 wheel drive. I bet it'd be the only one too! Too bad I still have to watch out for armadillos. I think that's why my mufflers a little rattly.
I was happily traveling along, when suddenly I came across a giant puddle (in retrospect, it might have been approaching small pond size) that stretched from one side of the road to the other. I stopped briefly and pondered the puddle dilemma. How deep could it actually be? I thought. I doubted it was very deep at all. I didn't want to turn around and go all the way back either, so my logical conclusion was just to head to the side of the road and go on through. As you have probably learned from numerous other posts, my logical conclusions are not always the best.
I put my foot down on the accelerator and eased over to the side of the road. I was heading through the puddle, through the puddle . . . stuck. In a puddle. On the side of a dirt road that had very little traffic and was probably a good half hour from my home. What to do. I got out of my car, waded through puddle, turned around, and stared at my car. Just as I was concluding that staring at my car from the road was not going to get me anywhere, I saw a school bus heading very rapidly toward the puddle I was now standing next to. The school bus went through the puddle, and, as you can imagine, dirt road chic was what I ended up wearing. It was not until that moment, dripping mud and puddle water, that I finally remembered I had my cell phone, so I waded back to the car and called Jeremy.
Jeremy: "This is Jeremy." --He always answers the phone like that. I'm not sure why. Who else would it be? Not like any of the dogs are going to answer the phone and do anything besides breath really heavily.
Me: "It's me. I have a little problem."
Jeremy: "What?"
Me: "I'm sort of stuck."
Jeremy: "You're stuck? Where? How did you get stuck?"
Me: "I tried to go through a puddle on a dirt road, and I got stuck."
Jeremy: silence. sigh. "Didn't I tell you not to drive the Fit on dirt roads?"
Me: "Yes, but the paved road I was on ended, and the dirt road looked just fine when I got on it and. . ."
Jeremy: another long, loud sigh. "Where are you?" See, this was yet another problem. I was just meandering around roads, so I knew how I got to where I was, but not so much where I was.
Me: "I'm not sure."
Jeremy: "What do you mean you're not sure? What did the road sign say?"
Me: "I decided to take a new way home, and when I turned onto the road, I didn't pay attention to what it was called."
Jeremy: "So, you are stuck in a puddle on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, and you don't know where you are?"
Me: "Yes, that pretty much sums it up."
Jeremy: in a very disgruntled voice. "Let me go find some stuff, and I'll head over in the truck. What way do I need to go?"
Me: "You go . . . . and then you go. . . and then you go. . ."
Jeremy: "Where? What way were you going? Where do I go after. . . ?"
Me: "I'm somewhere between Cochran, Easman, and Hawkinsville. But I'm not quite sure where because the road kinda twisted around a little."
Jeremy: "Alright. It's gonna take me at least 45 minutes to find you. I'll give you a call when I start getting close." Then I hear a click. He's apparently a tiny bit perturbed with me. Good thing he's got a drive ahead of him to cool down a bit. He should just think of it as a new version of Where's Waldo? Where's Lisa? Maybe this will make him get me that GPS I've been wanting.
After Jeremy hung up, I started to get a little bored. Contrary to what you might have thought, there really is not a whole lot to do when stuck on a secluded, dirt road. I began contemplating just where exactly things went wrong, how much it was going to cost to get all the mud off my car at the car wash, and how very poorly designed Honda Fits are for mudding. I basically decided that this was, in no way, my fault, but Honda's own design flaw. I also wondered if it was feasible to add 4 wheel drive to a Fit. As I was sitting there, suddenly, a beautiful, brilliant green John Deere tractor slowly pops up over the horizon and stops behind my Fit.
Mr. Tractor Driver: "Looks like you're stuck. Need a tow?" I could comment on how Mr. Tractor Driver was so stating the obvious, but, really, what do you say to a person who submerges a good chunk of her very clearly non-dirt road friendly car? I tried to explain my stupidity to Mr. Tractor Driver in a way that made me look slightly less inept, but really, there's no way to cover up that fact.
Mr. Tractor Driver: "I got a chain. Had to pull somebody else out of there this morning." I was instantly delighted. Yay! I wasn't the only one! "You know," he continues, "It's much better in the middle. If you had just gone through the middle of the puddle, you would have been fine." Great. Wonderful. I had briefly thought about going through the middle, but no. I had to pick the wrong way. In so many different ways. Mr. Tractor Driver hooked my car up, hopped in the cab, and within minutes, my little Fit was free! I could finally head home! I gave Jeremy a call quick to let him know he didn't have to come find me after all, and then I was off.
Later that night we were heading out of town.
"Stop at Shorty's first," Jeremy says, "I need a soda." I head toward the dirt alley across from our back driveway. "Where are you going?"
"I'm going to Shorty's," I reply. Where else would I be going?
"You're not taking the Fit on another dirt road."
"It's an alley in town! I am not going to get stuck in the alley behind the convenience store!"
"I don't care. No more dirt roads for the Fit. If you would have listened to me to begin with. . ." I sigh and turn onto the street to take the paved roads to the convenience store.
"So, where are you not going to drive the Fit?" Jeremy asks in his I'm talking to a child tone of voice, which is very annoying.
"On dirt roads. But what if it's been really dry?"
"No."
"But what if it's the only way to get somewhere?"
"No."
"But--"
"No."
"You're no fun. How am I supposed to find neat new roads to take?"
"That's what the truck is for. That's why it has 4 wheel drive. Not the Fit."
"But you never let me drive the truck."
"I did once, and you squealed the tires in the Home Depot parking lot."
"That was an accident. I hadn't driven it before. Does that mean I get to drive the truck more now?"
"No."
Guess it's back to figuring out if I can outfit the Fit with 4 wheel drive. I bet it'd be the only one too! Too bad I still have to watch out for armadillos. I think that's why my mufflers a little rattly.
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