Todd and His 4 X 4

 

 

 

Monster Truck Madness Deep in the Forest

 

 

 

Down and Out on the North Side

 

 

 

We played around on the rock, which was surprisingly solid compared to all of the rock we had been on getting here.  Down below the cliff we could see a snow covered road coming up from the backside of the mountain.  We figured we could drop down through the manzanita again and hit the road, taking it down to the trail head.  As we went down, the snow covering the ground was thicker and harder than the previous stuff.

As we were getting to the road, we could hear something with an engine coming up the road.  It turned out to be a huge SUV on very large, monster truck wheels and tires.  They were grinding their way up the very slick looking snowed road.  It was jam-packed with at least six people getting tossed around in the turret of this tank.  We walked around them and got onto the road and started down the road.

I started to notice that the road was getting slick in the ruts as we dropped down off the ridgeline.  We started waiting for the first one to slip, as it was inevitable that with enough opportunity you will eventually do it.  All three of us quickly slipped at some point so we figured it was time to start over.

Just down the road about a mile we could see another monster truck down the road.  It looked a bit out of sorts as they had taken off the entire left front tire and wheel.  We figured we might help them out a bit if they were truly broke down.  We were joking about this when I went down.

I slipped on some ice with my right foot, and trying to catch myself I adjusted and completely rolled my right ankle, hearing, and feeling, something go snap.  It really hurt.  I layed in the snow.  It was cold.

Dane and Joel walked down the road to talk with the monster truck people while I sat thinking of what it might take to get the hell out of here.  I could tell I couldn't walk, at all.  My ankle was killing me.  One of the trucks down the road was operational, but the other two were stuck or broken.  It was a monster of a Ford truck.  It didn't have a bed on the back, just the skeletal structure with a gas tank sitting in the middle.  Dane and I hopped in while Joel hiked out with the dogs.

My ride out was Todd.  He didn't speak a whole lot.  I think the only thing we got out of him was that he had lived in Bend since 1976.  That makes him a Local.  A Local is a person defined as either having lived their for ten years unless you are a native Oregonian in which it only takes 5 years.  No one knows who came up with these rules, but they are followed.  He also informed us that this burly truck was put together the weekend before.  He called it a Frankenstein.  This was my rescue vehicle.  Frankenstein.

We passed a sign on the road that read "Slow Children."  Oddly, the young kid on the sign was wearing a yamika and a belt with holes in it.  I guess that meant "Slow Jewish Children."  I had no idea of the large population of retarded jews we had in Bend.  I thought it was a bit racist that they were all out in the middle of the woods.  Dane said he thought Slow Children were delicious.  Todd was giving us odd looks at this point because we just sat there bantering about tasty children and the fact that Dane-O doesn't believe it's wrong eating delicious children because it's not his fault that they make them delicious.  I find it hard at times to be at odds with Dane-O.  Especially when he is talking about kosher canabalism.

We made it down to the bottom and hopped into Joel's Subaru.  Dane-O and I spent about ten minutes arguing about whether or not we should leave Joel's ass behind.  It was an emergency, I could have a broken foot, or worse!  But I really wanted to go to Parillas and get the ever popular Wrap of Khan with a beer.  And I figured if we left Joel on the premise of "emergency," it would be really difficult justifying stopping off for a wrap and a Pacifico.  At least to Joel, a dumber friend could fall for it if put in the right context.  Joel is savvy about these things.

We hung out at the car for about 20 minutes before Joel got to us.  The dogs were happy.  We all jumped in and headed down the road.  It took a bit of convincing, but I talked Joel into going to Parillas before hitting the ER.  He was very skeptical about it until I convinced him that we might be there for a while, and could nothing get any better than a full belly, a few beers and sleeping in the waiting room?  I told him we could just go and sit there...hungry and devoid of beer.  It took both of them to get me up the steps and into the restaurant.  It was worth every painful hop.

Joel's wife works in the ER, and would have been working that night had she not got some stuff in her eye.  Luckily, she was working at the ER when it happened, so she didn't have very far to go.  Joel spent most of the previous night in the ER, officially becoming a "regular."  The alleged story was some sanitizer got in her eye, but I am suspect.  I think Joel might have had something to do with that, but he flatly denies going for the eye.

After some X-Rays, they told me I had a bad sprain and would be out for a few weeks.  I figured this was good, but after all the drama, I needed a bit more to show for it than a bad sprain.  Had they had to pack my ass out of the forest for the two miles down that road, I guarantee they would have broken my ankle so it had been worth it.