So, last weekend on Sunday, my wife wanted me to take a drive down to Antelope in Central Oregon. She had a meeting for her job in the small town on Tuesday and not being familiar with the area, an area that is mostly void of civilization, she was a little apprehensive. She wanted me to show her where she would be going so she could find it on her own with no problems.
Well, I wasn’t feeling all that great and a two and half hour trip, one way, didn’t sound too appealing. Besides, there is only one main road down there so I didn’t think she would have any trouble. But then, I grew up around here so what I think is normal appears desolate and inhibiting to her. For those who may not know, Central Oregon looks a lot like Wyoming, and she’s used to Wisconsin where every square mile is populated.
On Tuesday morning, I received a series of texts. The first one said she’d gotten stuck in the mud on the wrong road far from her destination. Of course, phone service is very limited so I couldn’t call her. The next text said someone was supposed to be coming to help her. And eventually, I got one that said one of the officers from her office had rescued her.
Since the place she had traveled to had no phones or cell service, I had to wait until Wednesday night to find out the full story. Apparently, she had turned too soon, on a very muddy dirt road. She drove until she didn’t think the vehicle would make it and then tried to back out but had gotten high centered. And there the vehicle remained.
Thankfully, she didn’t panic. Grabbing a few items from the vehicle, she stuffed them into a small backpack and started walking. And walking. Turns out she walked about fifteen miles total. Eventually, she found a spot with cell service and was able to make a call. Not to me of course, since I had proved rather useless in this regard already!
Being that she works for the Sheriff’s Office, I guess I can understand why she would call them. Besides, a couple of the officers were also attending the meeting so they weren’t that far away. It would have taken me about three hours to get to her.
Several hours later, after a tow truck had hauled the vehicle out of the mud and to another town a few miles away, she made it to the meeting—without her suitcase. It was still in the vehicle. That meant no change of clothes, no amenities or, probably the worst of all, NO DIET COKE!
Now, I’ve only hit on the highlights, or lowlights in this case; the saga was much more drawn out than it seems here. And a little scary for my wife, who, although she was raised in the country, has decided she is now a full-fledged city slicker. Finally, Wednesday night, she made it home safe and sound. Needless to say, she wasn’t real happy with me.
Yes, I have apologized but that doesn’t really help much now. And I doubt she will be letting me forget this any time soon, if ever. So, next time my wife wants to take a drive, I think I will, um, I don’t know, take a drive? ~
Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook and paperback on iTunes, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and Smashwords. Amazon Profile - www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.