Over the years I cannot tell you how many times I made that statement. After all, who in their right mind would drive a $40,000 pickup to an area that made a mountain goat nervous?
So after years of debate I finally got the nerve up and convinced my wife to let me pull the trigger. It was an international scout pickup. This baby was mustard yellow with a bench seat. The engine ran pretty good and the 4 wheel drive even worked.
I brought her home and set to work. I added all the essentials.... Rope, shovel, Jack, and half of the other stuff in my garage. I even got the oil changed.
Opening weekend of deer season came and we set out. Top speed on this beast was around 50 and our normal drive to deer camp took 2 hours longer than previous years. Things were going great. I had just hit the area where the road gets nasty. I threw her into four wheel drive and the climb began. I handled her cautiously at first. As my confidence grew, I got a little more aggressive.
As I rounded a particular nasty set of switchbacks I heard it. BOOM! It sounded like a cannon. After my heart stopped and the soda I was drinking hit my lap I realized what happened...FLAT TIRE!
In all my eagerness to get this thing loaded, cleaned, checked, and ready, I forgot one thing. To replace the 10 year old weather rotted tires that would be going over sharp rocks on a steep mountain side road more suited for horses than vehicles.
To make matters worse, I was on the side of steep berm. One side of the rig was nearly 4 feet higher than the side with the flat. Not to worry, I brought along my brand new jeep jack. So after 2 hours and a bruised set of knuckles, we had her changed and set out again.After only 50 yards of driving, a familiar sound hit me again. BOOM! The tire on the other side went this time. Not to worry, I’ll just throw the spare on there. OOPS. I think I already used that right?
So after much debate and two beers, the decision was made. We had a few guys pile into another rig and we would borrow the rig they were driving and go get two new tires. One for the flat we now had and one for the spare we had used.
No problem right? We make the trek back down the mountain and drive 40 miles to the nearest town. We arrive at 5:05 pm. The tire shops all close at 5:00! After driving around for another 45 minutes we hit gold. One shop is just closing. We are lucky. He just happens to have to new tires. Of course they are a few sizes larger but we strike a deal. $300 for two, semi new tires.
We set off for camp again. We are determined to make it back before dinner. We still have some daylight to play with. We arrive at the Scout at dusk. We quickly change the flat and throw the spare in the back. At this point we can actually taste supper. I jump in and start her up, drive 20 feet and BOOM! The third flat.
No problem right? I have a spare. By this time I have become a pro at
changing flats. Needless to say I am getting pretty frustrated. I decide to
remain calm and get the job done and make it back to camp. Of course this time the lug nuts were rusted on and a 10 minute job turned into a 45 minute job.
I have now had enough for one day. I decide to leave the scout and continue on in the other rig. As twilight approaches we arrive. We pitch our tent, eat and hit the hay. The next morning we set out on opening morning to bag a few deer.
After 4 hours of walking and scanning, I have seen absolutely zero sign of any living thing, especially a deer. I decide to head back to the scout and tackle the third flat tire. It proves to be easier this time. After 2 hours I get it done. I get in and fire her up. I throw her into gear and take off. Things are going great, I finally start to relax. I am literally in sight on camp when I hear it...BOOM! The fourth flat.
At this point I lose it! I have spent 12 hours changing tires, and $300 on two junk tires. This was supposed to make my hunting experience easier right? Right then and there I decide to end the misery. I simply get out the scout, load my rifle and empty the magazine into the scout. I then proceed to set out for greener pastures. I walk all the way down the mountain. Eventually I hitch a few rides with some random desert dwellers and actually end up back home. I take a shower eat dinner and hit the sack.
In all my angst I totally forget that my worry wart kid brother and the rest of the group have no idea what happened to me. Because I am a diabetic, they have every man on the mountain searching for what they are certain would be my corpse. Oops. After 7 hours of searching and two trips down the 20 mile 4x4 trail to get cell service, we finally make contact. They are grateful I am alive but ready to kill me for walking off the hunt.
In the end I actually went back up the mountain in my $40000 pickup with 4 new tires. I brought the Scout home and sold her to a rancher. My wife finally
talked to me again and my kid brother got over his desire to kill me for leaving
the scene after several sessions of therapy.
In the end I can’t help but wonder... Man if I only had that rig back..
So after years of debate I finally got the nerve up and convinced my wife to let me pull the trigger. It was an international scout pickup. This baby was mustard yellow with a bench seat. The engine ran pretty good and the 4 wheel drive even worked.
I brought her home and set to work. I added all the essentials.... Rope, shovel, Jack, and half of the other stuff in my garage. I even got the oil changed.
Opening weekend of deer season came and we set out. Top speed on this beast was around 50 and our normal drive to deer camp took 2 hours longer than previous years. Things were going great. I had just hit the area where the road gets nasty. I threw her into four wheel drive and the climb began. I handled her cautiously at first. As my confidence grew, I got a little more aggressive.
As I rounded a particular nasty set of switchbacks I heard it. BOOM! It sounded like a cannon. After my heart stopped and the soda I was drinking hit my lap I realized what happened...FLAT TIRE!
In all my eagerness to get this thing loaded, cleaned, checked, and ready, I forgot one thing. To replace the 10 year old weather rotted tires that would be going over sharp rocks on a steep mountain side road more suited for horses than vehicles.
To make matters worse, I was on the side of steep berm. One side of the rig was nearly 4 feet higher than the side with the flat. Not to worry, I brought along my brand new jeep jack. So after 2 hours and a bruised set of knuckles, we had her changed and set out again.After only 50 yards of driving, a familiar sound hit me again. BOOM! The tire on the other side went this time. Not to worry, I’ll just throw the spare on there. OOPS. I think I already used that right?
So after much debate and two beers, the decision was made. We had a few guys pile into another rig and we would borrow the rig they were driving and go get two new tires. One for the flat we now had and one for the spare we had used.
No problem right? We make the trek back down the mountain and drive 40 miles to the nearest town. We arrive at 5:05 pm. The tire shops all close at 5:00! After driving around for another 45 minutes we hit gold. One shop is just closing. We are lucky. He just happens to have to new tires. Of course they are a few sizes larger but we strike a deal. $300 for two, semi new tires.
We set off for camp again. We are determined to make it back before dinner. We still have some daylight to play with. We arrive at the Scout at dusk. We quickly change the flat and throw the spare in the back. At this point we can actually taste supper. I jump in and start her up, drive 20 feet and BOOM! The third flat.
No problem right? I have a spare. By this time I have become a pro at
changing flats. Needless to say I am getting pretty frustrated. I decide to
remain calm and get the job done and make it back to camp. Of course this time the lug nuts were rusted on and a 10 minute job turned into a 45 minute job.
I have now had enough for one day. I decide to leave the scout and continue on in the other rig. As twilight approaches we arrive. We pitch our tent, eat and hit the hay. The next morning we set out on opening morning to bag a few deer.
After 4 hours of walking and scanning, I have seen absolutely zero sign of any living thing, especially a deer. I decide to head back to the scout and tackle the third flat tire. It proves to be easier this time. After 2 hours I get it done. I get in and fire her up. I throw her into gear and take off. Things are going great, I finally start to relax. I am literally in sight on camp when I hear it...BOOM! The fourth flat.
At this point I lose it! I have spent 12 hours changing tires, and $300 on two junk tires. This was supposed to make my hunting experience easier right? Right then and there I decide to end the misery. I simply get out the scout, load my rifle and empty the magazine into the scout. I then proceed to set out for greener pastures. I walk all the way down the mountain. Eventually I hitch a few rides with some random desert dwellers and actually end up back home. I take a shower eat dinner and hit the sack.
In all my angst I totally forget that my worry wart kid brother and the rest of the group have no idea what happened to me. Because I am a diabetic, they have every man on the mountain searching for what they are certain would be my corpse. Oops. After 7 hours of searching and two trips down the 20 mile 4x4 trail to get cell service, we finally make contact. They are grateful I am alive but ready to kill me for walking off the hunt.
In the end I actually went back up the mountain in my $40000 pickup with 4 new tires. I brought the Scout home and sold her to a rancher. My wife finally
talked to me again and my kid brother got over his desire to kill me for leaving
the scene after several sessions of therapy.
In the end I can’t help but wonder... Man if I only had that rig back..