Rolling on the River

Sometimes I get antsy and I want excitement in life. But then I remember in what forms excitement can come...

Eric and I went on a little journey one evening. We were going for two hour drive along the country side to pick up a free riding lawn mower. Now, that is correct. It is a free riding lawn mower so who wouldn't go pick it up. We didn't know if it worked or not, but free and fixing should be cheaper than new and working.

Along the way we chatted and life was swell. Then, a tire on the trailer we were pulling blew. I'd never experienced a blown tire before. The noise is incredible and the jerking of the car definitely grabs your attention away from the driving zone. We drove back to the nearest town, not even small enough to be called a hole in the wall. The only thing open in town was, of course, the bar. We called all over the area looking for places that were open and that had the tire size we needed in stock. No such luck.

But then Eureka! A man steps out of the bar and hears our dilemma. He tells us he lives in a junk yard and should have 40 tires like that, well at least 20, and when we finally are in the car with this man in greasy jeans and a dirty sweatshirt, the number dwindles to 15. We swing by the trailer, hitch it back up, and drive on the tire rim for about a mile. However, that mile took us deep into Deliverance country. Well, not quite but the backwoods of Minnesota, at the very least. And I do mean, the very, very back woods.

The man, whose name I never got, did indeed list in the middle of a junkyard. Rusted, half cars all around, a pile of rusty metal just waiting to give us Tetanus, a dead cat, and a trailer house with broken windows, dirty blinds. A place that conjured many visions of horror movies, a blonde girl in a baseball cap running in between the cars, hoping to find safety, only to fall down and find something awful under one of the cars.

The man goes off looking for a tire. He finds tires that are the wrong size. He tries to put them on. They do not fit. The man goes off looking for a tire. The man does not come back for an hour or more. It is getting dark. Eric tells me that he will lock me in the car when darkness hits.

The man tells me I can go into the house if I want to see the Rotweiller puppies. Not until much later, do I realize there is another man in the house. His voice suprises me when he answers the phone. The trailer was so quiet until his tenor voice carried out the broken window.

To be continued.