It’s more fun to take the back roads when you come home from London, where I finished delivering some product and meeting with associates. The scenery is nicer, there’s less traffic, the detour only adds a few minutes to the overall trip and best yet, odd stuff sometimes happens.
Along a particularly nice section of road I noticed a large plume of grey smoke rising into the air. The actual location was hidden behind the various woodlots, but it looked to be some distance away, probably three concessions ahead and maybe two to the right. But it was large enough to make me think that it was more than just some farmer burning trash. If he was, that’s a hell of a lot of trash. Interesting.
As I rounded another curve on the tree lined road, there came into view a small car half in the ditch with a number of young people milling around it. Interesting.
Being of the helpful sort, I decided to stop and attempt to be, uhh, helpful. All those years of being a Boy Scout, I suppose. So I pulled over on what little shoulder there was on the small road and put on the four-ways. First time I’ve used the hazards since I got the vehicle, actually.
Five young people in their late teens were attempting to move a sports car out of the shallow ditch. Or rather, the two young men were, ballcaps on backwards, pushing down with all their might on the front, while one young woman in the driver’s seat gunned the engine trying to get the front wheels to bite into the long grass. The crew was rounded off by two little cuties in their tallest shoes and their best clothes, standing around uselessly making suggestions.
I walk up. “Problems?” It’s a facetious start, I know, but it seemed like the thing to ask.
“Shithead here put my car into the ditch!”
“Like hell! You were all pointing at the sky and shit!”
“You’re not the one who’s going to get into trouble for this!”
OMFG, they ditched their parent’s car while looking at that fire a couple of roads over. They were probably driving too fast and lost track of the curve in the road. This is rich. This is funny. I’ve sooo been here before. Brings back so many memories.
Getting out of something like this is easy if you have enough manpower.
“You know, this car can’t weigh that much. We can probably just push it out.”
One of the young men looks at me as if to say, are we enough?
“I mean all of us. Put it in neutral. You two on the the pillars by the doors, the rest of us on the front. It’ll move. If it moves too much, someone jump into the driver’s seat and hit the brakes.”
The chassis of the vehicle was grounded on the shoulder. To free it, all we needed to do was move it up and over half a metre, so the front wheels could get a grip on something less slick than the grass. The ditch was mostly dry, it was narrow, and our feet were able to push directly against the ground.
Getting in to the spirt of the whole affair one of the young men counted, “1, 2, 3, push!!”
And we pushed. The two little cuties made strange weak noises as they pushed against the door frames. Beside me I heard a solid grunt, not from one of the guys, but from the girl they had trying to back up the car. She was short and petite but she tensed up like a weightlifter revealing some solid upper body under that tanktop. She drove her shoulder into the grille beside mine and clenched her jaw. The four of us pushed off hard against the bank and the car rolled easily on to the road.
I smacked the dirt from my hands. “See. Easy. Reminds me of my youth.”
“Totally! Thanks man!”
Unable to resist I quipped, “No worries, but you didn’t need me. Supergirl here could have done it.”
The little ones flustered about as useless as before and the joke was mostly lost on the lads. But Supergirl sported a smug, shiteating grin on her face as I walked back to my van. Any three of them could have pushed it out if she was on the front, no problem, just nobody had figured that out.
“Alrighty then, have a good one,” I said, and with that, I drove off.