Slipperier than a wet cock in a pail of mutton grease

by underswansea

RCE_2853

Took to the creek this afternoon. Drove up a steep stretch with the snow slowly falling. I knew I was slipping, but didn’t think much of it. Since I’m always on the lookout for dry firewood, I threw a rope around a down pine. That is when I remembered how slick snow could be. The deadfall didn’t move. The truck spun sideways in the road and left me ass end over a bank. I put it in four-low and spun. I was stuck – kind of.  If I put the back wheels over the bank, I would be stuck for sure. Maybe even till spring. Lisa wouldn’t be happy. I took the rope and tied it to the front of the truck. Tied the other end to a big pine. The rope wasn’t going to hold back my F150 from going over the bank, but maybe it would give me enough leverage to spin it straight.

Sure enough that’s the way it worked. The dogs, at their elevated age, didn’t have to walk out. The old Husqvarna fired up and I had a load of wood in no time. I kept going up the mountain with some weight in the back. Once I got turned around I realized how slick it was. There was no stopping. The truck slid all the way down the mountain. I saw a few birds here and there but couldn’t stop to check them out.

By the time I hit the bottom the snow was really coming down. It looked good. I have more than enough firewood to keep Lisa warm till spring, but it is tough for me to leave well enough alone.

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