Chapter 4 | So close, and yet so very very very very very very very far away

We made it to that guy's cabin. It was about two miles away. We found the strap and come along laying on a snowmobile, and we turned around to start the journey back. By this time my feet were sufficiently numb, and it felt like I was was walking on stumps. My face felt like if I wiggled it, it would crumble into pieces and fall off.

I think it was around this time that I realized why that statement made me so mad. During this whole experience there was no "Sorry about this." or "Gee, thanks for wasting two days helping me get my truck unstuck." Maybe I wouldn't have been so mad at him if he showed that he was tiny bit grateful.

I was on the verge of losing it--and then I did, but not the way I expected. After about a mile of silence he said, "It would suck if a cougar came out of those trees and attacked us." And I lost it, except I was laughing really really hard. I think I found it so funny because he wasn't joking or trying to be funny. He was just stating that it would probably not be a very good thing at this point. I mean that really would suck. You know what else would suck? If a centaur came out of nowhere, and told us that his name was Wayne, and that he would protect us from the cougar, and we felt relieved that we wouldn't die, but then the cougar killed the centaur and ate us anyway. Man, that would blow.

We hooked the come along to a tree and started to pull out the truck. I got in to turn the steering wheel. He was making some good progress, but then it got really hard. I got out to try and help him, and then it suddenly got easy.

"Did you have your foot on the brake?" he asked.

"No."

"Well, it's a lot easier now."

I thought for a second. I must have had it on there out of habit. I started laughing, "What a moron!" I laughed, but then I saw that he was really annoyed, and then I got mad again. What right did he have to be bugged with me!? None. I don't care if I did have my foot on the brake. Screw you! You are lucky I don't shove that come along where the moon won't shine and tie you to a tree.

I started working the come along after a bit, and we got it out in just a few minutes. One down one to go. And then a very unwelcome thought entered my brain. This is what it said: "I almost wish that something else would happen to make a this story cooler." It was quickly thrown out. No, I just want to get out of here!

We walked down to the Jimmy. There was only one tree big enough to handle it, but it looked like it was close enough. The tow strap was 20 feet long, and we had an extra 6 feet with the come along. But the guy who had took the tow strap had tied two knots in it making it six inches too short. We could not get these things out. They had been through pulling two cars out, and were super tight. I still have no clue why he would do that. We tried to extend the come along but it had jammed. Trying to get that thing unjammed was the worst. It was metal and freezing cold, and you could only have your hands out of your pockets for so long. We worked with the come along and the knots for awhile until it became clear that another walk was in order.