A Rite of Passage in the Pines

Getting winched out of a washout that was much deeper than it looked

Last night I waited by the Emilio Carranza Memorial with my good friend Sonny, swatting away pine flies and talking about our respective careers as UNIX administrators and hardware and user interface designer-engineers. (I hope I got that right; I sort of know what Sonny does, but not really. He’s a secret mad scientist, as far as I’m concerned). We were waiting for a tow truck.

Sonny gracefully offered to have the car detailed! I opted for a tank of gas instead.

Sonny made a surprise visit, and I wanted to show him the Jersey Central Railroad at High Crossing. I turned down a road I’ve traveled before, missed a go-around, and plunged into a washout that I swore that I’d navigated easily before. The car immediately rose up on a hump between two deep, submerged ruts and was stuck. I got my trusty mini-shovel and GoTreads traction mats, but after an hour of digging and spinning my wheels, I gave in and we walked back to the main road to get a phone signal to call for help.

It was bound to happen eventually. I’m glad that I had good company while I waited.

You can see how high the driver side is; the passenger side front did not hit bottom.

AAA was not terribly helpful, with constant disconnects due to bad signal, and telling me to “use the app.” I would, if I had signal! Eventually they connected me to Always Hookin’ Towing, who knew exactly where I was, and what would be needed to get me out. In under two hours, Billy showed up with a massive duallie, with his pregnant wife in tow. They had just come from a check-up. Looked about 2-3 months.

It never looks this bad from over the hood. Always get out and check depth.

He drove me to the trail and backed down the road like it was his own driveway. His wife helped with the winch (I couldn’t hear her name over the engine and I feel bad about it) and refused any help. She didn’t need this city boy messing things up. She liked my HULKOUT vanity plate, and because they asked, I told them that I liked the TV show since childhood. Here’s proof:

Portrait of the Writer as a Young Hulk.

They hooked a chain to my tow hook and got me out of there in 5 minutes flat. So easily, that Billy knocked a hundred off the price. I gave her a few twenties and said to buy the kid a Hulk toy, and wished them the best. They waited until I got to the main road before leaving. I could not have asked for a better recovery specialist.

Billy said Subaru is the only car he’ll use the tow hooks on. Others have popped right out.

While we waited, two couples asked to help. Phil drives a red truck and said he had a recovery strap, but I told him I had a wrecker coming. He gave me his house and mobile number anyway. That’s a real Piney for ya. About the same time a couple in a lifted Jeep, about the only vehicle I saw that day which could have maybe navigated that nasty mudhole, met us right when Billy showed up with his truck. So I thanked them for asking, as well. And they said it happens to everybody.

An hour with the hose and two car washes later, good as new.

About the only thing I could have done was have a lifted Jeep or truck with a winch to pull myself out, and then there’s the danger of snapping the chain or snatch strap, which flies like a bullet. There are many videos of busted rear windows where a chain link has gone flying, and deaths can happen. So I’m glad I had Billy. I ducked under the seat as he pulled the car out, and he huddled behind the truck, to be safe.

The other thing I could have done was slow down, seen the go-around, and taken it. We drove home without incident, testing the brakes, parking brake, and so on. We stopped at Wawa for gas and were thinking hoagies, but Villa Russo pizzeria was still open, so I introduced my Viking friend to the wonders of chicken cheesesteak pizza with fries. There was much rejoicing.

Next time, I will remember to be patient. The Pines ain’t going anywhere.

Here’s a video of Billy winching the Squatcharu out of that mudhole: