Stuck

The dirt road curved around the ranches and wound its way up the mountain.  The wheels of my car flung tiny rocks and wafted dust into the air.  The bends in the road were sharp, and the climb was steep enough to make the engine struggle to stay cool enough to function.

As the road leveled off into a sparse forest, a trio of elk bounded across my path and continued grazing.  The skies were a thick and ominous gray, and the air at this elevation was rapidly cooling, despite the midday heat blazing thousands of feet below.  I was blindly following GoogleMaps’ directions in search for the Kolob Canyon of Zion National Park.  I typed in Kolob Canyon, rather than the Kolob Canyon Visitor Center, and the GPS took me very literally, as computers usually do.  It was sending me into the heart of my destination, and by now I had lost cell reception.  I knew this wasn’t right, yet I pressed onward, partly out of the sheer surprise of ending up in such a place and partly due to a lack of places to turn around.

Soon the dirt road turned to mud, and the tires lost their purchase and began to skid and flounder.  Steering grew unsteady.  The brakes became coated with a thick and pasty mud.  I slowed the car to a crawl and weaved into the turns as the car hydroplaned across a set of potholes filled with rainwater.  By this time I knew I was lost, so I found a flat spot to turn around with much difficulty.

  

On the way back toward civilization I tried to build up speed because the car was quickly losing traction and relying purely on dwindling momentum.  Soon I lost control completely as the tires slowed their revolutions and skied over the slippery surface.  I flinched as the car bumped into the muddy embankment.  I pressed on the gas, but there was no movement——only the frustrated whine of the rubber spinning uselessly.  We were stuck.

Megan, Kendyl and I got of the car and inspected our situation.  The others were mildly giddy about the conundrum, but I felt their enthusiasm was borne from their detachment.  This was not their car stuck in the mud, but mine.  I was only slightly frustrated with my irresponsibility for landing in such a position, but I, too, was eager for the challenge of finding a way to get unstuck.  The car is cheap and over twenty years old, so I was not too concerned. Besides, it has always been my intention to run it into the ground.  On this day I was successful, and I thought it was extremely possible this burial in the mud could be its funeral.  The towing alone would probably cost more than the car itself, and I would rather push it off a cliff than pay the fee. 

At first, Megan and Kendyl tried pushing as I pressed on the gas, but a brief experiment proved useless.  The coolant bubbled and smoke hissed from the engine.  I got out of the car again and walked in my slippers until they became caked with mud.  I did not want to ruin both my car and my footwear, so I took off my slippers and squelched my feet in the cold mud.  I walked to the trunk and peered under the car.  The right rear wheel was completely covered in mud.  Pushing would be futile until we dug this thing out.

“Should we start thinking of a backup plan?” Megan asked.

Kendyl suggested calling a friend who was at least two hours away, but she soon realized we had no service.  We were several miles up this road, at least a day’s walk back to the highway.  To the right of the muddy road was a grassy hill that offered an overlook of the valley below.  Megan started up the road to see how far we were from stable dirt and cell reception, and I started toward the overlook to get our bearings.  The grass was soaked, and the water enveloped my feet and numbed them.  I stepped over rusted cans and broken bits of fence and reached an abandoned hermit’s nest.  The view of distant farms offered no solution.

I walked back to confront the quagmire.  I released my frustration by launching rocks into the grass and screaming expletives.  Kendyl was very level-headed, as though this were a game with no real-life consequences.  Megan reported that once we crested this mound we would be back on flat ground and soon would hit the dirt road, if we ever got the car unstuck.  We would all have to work together and think reasonably, or we could have an even more serious dilemma on our hands.  I was determined to drive out of here, so I resolved to embrace this situation. 

I dipped my fingers into the mud and painted lines under my eyes like a quarterback.  I put the emergency brake on and crawled under the car and dug out mounds of freezing mud until my fingers became so numb I had trouble bending them.  I tagged Kendyl in, and she took a turn scooping out the mud.  I needed to make progress and warm my fingers through exertion, so I walked ahead of the car and discarded larger stones that would impede our progress.  Kendyl emerged from underneath the car covered in mud and shivering.  I handed her a blanket and dove under the car to continue digging until I unearthed the wheel.

Kendyl hopped in the driver’s seat while I took my position at the rear.  She rolled the window down, and I yelled that I was ready.  She put the car in drive and stepped on the gas while I heaved.  I planted my feet against the embankment and pushed while my feet slipped in the mud and I wondered if I was making any difference until the car began to teeter out of the divot and rock forward.  One last heave and the car shot out of the ditch and out of my grasp.  I ran to catch up to it and shouted jubilantly.

My spirits were immediately lifted.  I had always used blind optimism and stubbornness to accept any alternative to get out of hairy situations before, but there were moments in which I thought success was impossible.  We still weren’t out of trouble quite yet, as the car began to zig from side to side and became stuck again.  But this setback was minor compared to what we had just overcome.

Megan joined me in the back of the car and pushed as Kendyl stepped on the gas.  As I was straining against the car, I realized what a great teambuilding exercise this was.  What I initially believed was a terrible inconvenience proved to be exhilarating and memorable.  Megan and I pushed against the car which had now gained purchase once more and started moving without our aid.  We both jogged to keep up with the car until it gained too much speed for us.  Megan stepped away and I jumped on the bumper and held onto the fin and rode against the wind as the tires crunched against the gritty earth.  I jumped off the bumper which was now decorated with my muddy footprints and raised my arms and screeched with victory.

Covered in mud, now, we drive down the mountain as the brakes struggle to slow our descent.  Each bend makes me nervous as I consider using the E-brake, but finally the dirt turns to pavement and off we go.  A shorter hike is planned in Zion, and afterwards we must reward ourselves with pizza; finally, a stop at the carwash where I futilely attempt to erase the evidence of my blunder.