Friday, September 22, 2006
Trents' Wild Ride
Bronco, MS> Trent was always being too sneaky. He told everyone that he was going across the Beaverdam Hollow to hunt if anyone wanted to go. Fine, we said, but it looks like a bad storm is coming and you may not be able to get out of there and we didn't want to go. He looked at us like we were fools and took off. He had a 1988 four wheeler with two wheel drive. He wound down the almost sheer side of the steep hollow, into the flat and found a place to park about halfway up the other side that was almost straight up also. He laughed to himself as he looked at the clear skies, those chickens are afraid of a little rain.
An hour later, a gigantic storm was pouring all over Trent. He thought he was going to drown in his deerstand! He better get the hell out of here. He got down and slogged his way back to his four wheeler. He strapped everything down, gazed through the blinding rain at the cascades of water pouring into the valley and it suddenly occurred to him that He just might have a problem. On top of that it was getting dark too. He cranked her up and took off! Downhill was easy, and he poured the gas to it as he headed up the other side.
Halfway up he stalled and the four wheeler started sliding back. He eased back and tried again, he tried again, one more time, Damn, again, he tried going out the other side. No luck. He just needed to give it more gas was all. He revved the motor, and slammed it in gear. He took off, deer calls and flashlight went flying! Sheets of water flew as He hit the upslope and gave it even more gas. No Luck. Turning around he hit the gas to get out the other side. Back and forth, back and forth. Uh-oh! no luck. It was desperation time! He pushed the throttle until he thought the little four wheeler might blow up and headed up the slope. Mud flew, tires spun, water shot everywhere! He was almost up!
Two days later we were able to get a tractor with a long chain in there and spent half a day getting the mud covered and buried four wheeler out. Trent had walked the two miles back to camp in the pouring rain. Now anyone who crosses the Beaverdam makes sure someone knows where they are and are not so smart that they don't always check the weather before leaving.