It has been drizzling for most of the day and continues on into the evening. I hear the frantic pitch in my daughter's voice over the telephone. I quickly look at the time, determining that she is late again and wait for the excuse.
Her: "I almost hit a bunny and now my car is in the ditch."
Me: "Where are you? Are you ok?"
Her: "I went the back way and my car is there."
Me: "Is your car full of water?"
Her: "Yes."
Me: "We are coming to get you."
I explain to my husband what's happening and I get the lecture of "you hit the bunny and avoid the ditch." We look at each other and immediately start grabbing stuff we might need, a tow rope, a reflector vest, and rain boots.
Within two minutes we are at the scene of the accident. Yep, her car is well and truly stuck, filling with water at a 30-degree angle. We turn off the hazards, grab her and head home to call a tow truck.
20 minutes goes by and we are back at the car, looking at how we could possibly get it out of the duck poop, litter infested ditch water. A car has stopped and a man is checking to see if there is anyone in the car as we approach it. We explain that no, there isn't anyone in there as the tow truck drives up. The back end won't work, so we try the front end. Steel rims allow a tow truck to hook onto them. He pulls it far enough out to find the tow hooks under the front end. Now the back end is in the water but its headed in the right direction. The car would have slipped back into the ditch but he keeps one cable on the wheel while attached the other cable to the hooks.
Jess (the tow truck driver): "Put it in neutral and crank the wheels to the left, we don't want to pull it back into the ditch. Keep cranking."
I'm leaning the way I want the car to go as I watch it being pulled onto the road and I notice the right tire. It isn't on the rim anymore and it looks as if the whole thing is going to rip off, as it gouges into the soft wet muck at the side of the road.
The car is out and we have the hood open. Jess, looks at the intake - it was on the dry side of the car. Next, he checks the oil and transmission fluid, the radiator; besides ditch debris it looks good. He attaches a battery charger and has John start it up. It grumbles, complaining, half-hearted attempts at starting and then just like that it coughs to life. Just then I notice a Sheriff Deputy beside me and he asks a couple of questions. “Was anyone hurt? What happened? “Walking around the sputtering rough sounding car, I chat with him a bit and ask his name which sparks a bit of recognition on my part. Oh yes, I remember you I say to him. He gets the “oh shit” look. A couple of years ago our boat stopped running at the south end of Lake Whatcom and you towed us back to the boat dock. It is funny how he seems to turn up when our beater vehicles are having problems. Agreeing it could have been him, he leaves and we are back to the problem at hand; the tire. Jess takes a look at it, cleans all the muck, sticks and yuck off the rim. He then attaches a strap around the tire, fills it with air and it pops back on the rim. The only problem was the valve stem is missing and so it won't hold air, otherwise, it's fine. He slaps the spare on it, makes sure it's properly inflated and we meet him just down the road to pay. Then we drive this beater-goes-through-anything kid car home.
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