Mud
By courtney | June 23, 2009
My friend Jenn and I went a-picking fresh Hood strawberries on Sauvie Island on Friday. That’s right: what could be more domestic and nutritious than handpicking fresh fruit for your sweetie while he’s working? (Okay, I might also have been bribed by the promise of fresh crepes when we returned.) We went picking. Jenn kicked my butt in sheer volume of berries picked, but I had fun anyhoo. And then… we tried to leave.
Apparently I didn’t do the Holy Berry Harvest Dance, because the strawberry gods trapped us. We couldn’t back up the lane (due to the insanely deep ruts in the mud), so we tried to go forward to a spot where we could turn around. But the turnaround was a trap! There was irrigation pipe in the way, forcing us to make a premature car maneuver and get thoroughly stuck. The front wheels couldn’t get any traction, the back wheels were 4″ deep, and there was a minor drop-off in front of the car. Crapola.
After much car rocking, we were forced to hike back to the produce stand and confess our muddy sins. This is where we met Jeremy the Tractor Guy. Jeremy went and got a ginormous tractor from out back, then picked us up along the lane where we were walking back the car. That’s right: I GOT TO RIDE ON THE TRACTOR! See those steps between the wheels?
That’s where I rode down the muddy lane. I wanted to wave like Miss America to all of the gaping kids, but I was too busy hanging on for dear life. (Imagine that phone call: “Hi Keith, it’s Jenn. So, Courtney got crushed by a giant tractor wheel while we out strawberry picking.”) We hooked that bad boy up to the car axle, hopped in the front seats, and enjoyed the ride as we got towed out in infamy and noteriety. Check it out:
In fact, we were so impressively stuck that they banned cars from going down the lane past the blueberry fields after they saw our plight. Think of us like a haunting legend about the evils of heedless mud driving. We’re like… Thelma and Louise. With more berries and mud. And less death.
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