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Posted by The Outdoor Tripp (Member # 619) on May 27, 2006, 09:29 AM:
All Trucked Up
I’ve wanted a new truck forever. To put forever into perspective, you must consider my current four-wheeled relationship just turned twenty-six.
Twenty-six years is a long time but the action hasn’t left the marriage. My little king-cab still pulls like a sled dog, her 4WD doesn’t miss a beat, and I can always count on twenty-two miles a gallon. Nevertheless, little things like rust holes, a dead air conditioner, fried radio, prehistoric upholstery, and busted windshield washer squirty thing, keep testing our relationship.
Out eating dinner last week, a pile of new truck brochures kept me entertained. So much that I circled one particular model and made note to visit the dealership that weekend. Then noticing it was late, I paid up, grabbed the one brochure and made for the truck.
Suddenly the skies opened and a clap of thunder angered a dozen car alarms. Hell arrived two blinks later with good friends Violent Rain and Sizeable Hail in tow. The old saying, “If you don’t like the weather in Texas, wait a minute,” came to mind and I leaned back to sit things out.
Things changed alright, but not exactly how I’d hoped. Growing hailstones pounded my truck like a hundred hammer-swinging gremlins. Consolation was, it rained so hard I couldn’t see the effects. I picked up the new truck brochure with eager anticipation, though still thankful a million hail dents wouldn’t ugly up my current truck one bit.
Things got worse. Cab windows completely fogged, I cracked the driver’s side glass to peak outside. Ironically, the truck from the brochure sat parked to my left, sporting dozens of hail dents and a shattered right window, while the ground below was littered with hailstones befitting a three-wood.
Thirty minutes later Hell took a breather and we made a dash for home – for a quarter mile anyhow. Plying 6-inch deep runoff on the highway to freedom’s access road, the old girl sputtered and died. We rolled to a stop just shy of midnight, blinded by fogged windows and passed by speeding ying-yangs missing us by inches.
Hell shortly returned from his smoke-break to pound us with a vengeance. The parking lot mess was one thing, but crapped-out in traffic for the mayhem was another. I flipped on the flashers, whipped out the cell phone and dialed away.
Six towing companies and zero answers later, I figured a few other schmucks were having similar problems. Several cops flew past, unconcerned a disabled vehicle was stranded in traffic, confirming my suspicion. Finally I dialed the police. After fifty-two rings I decided it might not be my night.
I worked the ignition every ten minutes for two hours with no luck. Then I noticed the new truck brochure taunting me. I grabbed the thing and ripped it to smithereens.
Paper aflutter, I twisted the keys once more. Amazingly the old truck heaved to life. I carefully coaxed her to speed and we sped toward the house. I can’t remember being so relieved.
At 2:30 AM we arrived home where a nervous inspection miraculously revealed zero hail damage. I shook my head in disbelief while wadding up brochure pieces and tossing them in the trash.
I decided on a bed-liner for our thirtieth anniversary.
Tripp Holmgrain is avid outdoorsman who keeps on truckin’. Email him at tripp@theoutdoortripp.com.
Posted by Leonard (Member # 2) on May 27, 2006, 10:51 AM:
I can relate, Trip. My hunting truck is a 1974 Dodge. LB
Posted by The Outdoor Tripp (Member # 619) on May 27, 2006, 11:35 AM:
The older Dodges are great trucks -- assuming they're still going.
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