Branches slapped against the window, as red dust billowed up around the old buick’s tires. Dan and I sat in the front seat, next to the caretaker. We rubbed shoulders while the old car bumped down the road. Giant ruts in the road threatened to swallow the bald tires whole. The spare on the passenger front side gamely rolled on, defying the path. Dust streaked the cracked windshield, the sun glare rendering the path before us, charitably dubbed road, before us a mystery. The caretaker chattered happily, dodging the ruts with practiced ease. We had been up the hill quite a ways, along a gravel road, dashing thru the trees. After a lovely bit of time spent away from the cabin, we were ready to return. Rolling back up the path to the main road, with our nose pointed towards the cabin, we all grinned at each other, fortified with decent beer. We were deep in national forest country, with hardly anyone else around. I had yet to see another car, on the hour or more I had driven or ridden on these roads.
We were just recounting the glorious demise of Dan’s old jimmy, and how old cars ought to go out with a bang. The caretaker had just finished his beer, when the car suddenly gave up it’s stuttering purr, and we coasted along in near silence. We traded glances, and Caretaker sighed, and threw the old buick into neutral.
“If we can just make it up the next hill, we can pretty much coast all the way down to the cabin.” he smiled, and let all tension off the brake. Once released from its iffy and squealing brakes, the considerable mass of the tank-like car picked up speed. We slalomed around the corners, and leaped over potholes with the ease of a fish. Dashing around a corner, the hill loomed before us, the trees casting shadows across its pitted surface like the bars of an old fashioned prison. Gamely, the car tacked the slope, gravel sputtering from under its tires, especially the spare. The car made a good showing, but eventually gravity reasserted its cruel hold, and we rolled to a stop.
Caretaker sighed “Well, we gave it a good shot. I’m gonna try to get Buddy on the phone, see if he can fetch us some gas. More than likely, we run out of fuel. The gauge doesn’t work so good any more.” He fished out his cell, and powered it on, muttering pleas at it to retain enough juice to make the call. All his sweet talk was in vain, however, as it bleeped the lack of service in the area. Caretaker gave another sigh, and cracked a beer. Not much else to do, as we sat in the middle of the one lane road in the vast tracts of forest. Dan popped the door open, allowing it to creak open like a barn door. Dust motes swirled in the air, settling over us in a thin blanket. Caretaker did the same, and the dust flowed thru with little impedence.
After a few moments, and another good story of vehicle death, Caretaker gave the key a halfhearted crank. Much to our surprise, the car sputtered to life, with the last gasp of gas. We shared a incredulous look, and Caretaker threw the car into gear, juggling his beer while he pulled the door in. Dan snatched his leg back into the car, and his door squealed shut. We raced up the hill, daring the gas to fail us, breathless to reach the crest, to coast down the other side. We grinned at each other as the land slopes again, and gravity eased her hands back around the heavy car. Caretaker let gravity assist the failing gas, and we picked up speed until we were once again flying down the hills, around the corners.
We came to a particularly fierce pothole, a series of them, and took them like an over excited steeplechaser. The car dashed into the breach, and slammed into the ground. This was nothing new, we had been scraping belly the whole time, but a new noise did reach our ears this time. A faint psst psst, rhythmically issued forth, and we three looked once again at each other in horror. Dan rolled down the window, and stuck his head out, daring the whipping branches. He dropped back into his seat, and confirmed
“Yeah, the doughnut is blown.”
“Screw it, I don’t even care.” Caretaker shook his head “I am gonna ride that rim down this hill.” He glanced over at us, and we cheered him on. We all grinned, and he turned his head forward. We all whooped and hollered, and we rolled on.
The car flew down the hill, dashing into a loose gravel patch. Stones flew into the forest as the small rim plunged into the gravel. The car slewed to the side, but carried on gamely, momentum carrying the day. We slid, sunblind, down the tiny forest road, until we reached the turnoff down to the cabin that Caretaker bushhogged into the forest earlier in the year. The ruts on this road were even more prohibitive here, but the buick slid down the red dirt path on it’s belly. The spare rim spun gamely, and we slewed down the final few bends, tree branches whipping the car. Down a final slope and corner, we came to a halt in the yard of the cabin, dust swirling around us.
Caretaker, Dan and I grinned, and we all climbed out of the car into the afternoon sun
Wherever you are, Be There 