This weekend brought 55 degrees and beautiful sunshine, so we took advantage of the weather and enjoyed a romp up Little Si. A cold wind was blowing, causing us to hurry with our snacks at the top and head back down. As always, it was nice to enjoy the vista.
Okay.. now the story. We are heading back home and we see this car in the ditch. It's a pretty old car and it seemed an odd place for the ditching. A kid with really baggie pants, a side-ways hat and sneakers with no laces was nearby and looked a bit frantic. Vil and his big heart stopped to ask if he needed a tug out of the ditch. He was grateful and went to get the owner of the car. Up until this point, we had assumed the car was his. Here comes the owner (insert dualing banjos tune here)- no teeth, 3-sheets to the wind (at 11am), flannel shirt and difficult to understand. He was mumbling about how he couldn't get the car to start because the battery was dead and how he was going to his garage to get a rope, etc. Vil and I snickered, thinking "What the heck did we just get ourselves in to?". He re-appears with this rickety tow rope. After it snapped on the first attempt, we tried again. And again, with more rope. Finally we gave him a jump start and he was able to get the car started- then he had to be coached to put the car in reverse. He was mumbling all the while "reverse, car, forward, ditch" etc.- hard to understand. Finally with reverse, he manages to get out of the ditch, but goes out with full momentum and almost hits our truck- now he's on the street and the car dies. Finally he gets the car in neutral and Vil jumps out to push. Luckily- no one got ran over by this crazy koot. "Lay off the sauce" Vil says mumbling under his breath, snickering. We laughed all the way home and had a great story to tell. Here's a picture I managed to snap of the final leg of the adventure- "the push!" Just another hillbilly encounter.
