I went to bed at six last night because I was falling asleep in my chair. Fell right asleep and woke at first light with Tobie asking was I all right.
The one wash crossing between me and the main road network is still giant piles of churned-up mud and – to my surprise – still partially submerged. There must be more rain to the south than we’ve had in the past three days because that’s how long it’s been since we’ve had any local rain of any importance. That crossing should be dry and easy pickings for a jacked-up Jeep by now, no matter whether a grader has gone near it. But it’s not, and there’s a time of year when it makes no sense to risk getting stuck in the middle of a wash unless the stakes are much higher than they are now.
That means I leave the Jeep parked at Landlady’s place, because between Landlady’s place and T&S’s place there is one angry nasty mess of a steep rocky road but no washes to flood. I hike to and from Landlady’s morning and afternoon to get to the Jeep but that’s no thing, I normally do that anyway to take care of chickens. That’s not what’s got me bent over and hobbling like an old man: It’s that damned stairway to heaven.
And this morning that thought had me re-thinking this whole ‘their driveway is too washed out to be passible’ thing. I mean I have to get up there at least twice a day by any means necessary but for the past 4-5 days I’ve chosen the most difficult means available and it’s wearing me down. I’m only halfway through the gig.
…there’s only one spot that’s really badly washed out. Even that probably isn’t bad enough to high-center the Jeep. It just happens to be right at the bottom of the very steepest part of the driveway, where you really need to build some speed – just at the spot where you’re going to hit that washout and stress-test the hell out of your 20-year-old steering and suspension.
And if I lose traction or snap something off, backing all the way down that absurdly steep, narrow winding path would be an adventure worthy of hair-raising stories if it didn’t arise from an act of stupidity I’d want to keep strictly to myself.
And I absolutely need the Jeep to stay functioning through Sunday night, or I’ll have to fall back on taking the bicycle to T&S’s and that bike isn’t capable of dealing with the Bumpy Road. Walking the bike up and down the BR twice a day will add to my burdens threefold. If it weren’t for Tobie I’d be tempted to bring five days’ food and clothing and just stay in their guest quarters.
I’ll get it done, I always do. But I do believe I’m getting too old for this shit. I know for a fact the Jeep is.