Beautiful day today. Sun, warmth, light breeze. Gotta love it. Gotta make the most of it. So Tom and I (I) decided that we should go kayaking. We've done Lake Natoma and Santa Cruz. Separately I have done Suisun, and, memorably, Slab Creek Reservoir, south side. So I thought we'd head up to Slab Creek Reservoir, north side. More paved road, more expansive parking and launching area: what's not to love?
We ran a bit late. T'was Sunday after all. Got to the reservoir area shortly after noon. As we approach the launch area we are startled by the sounds of guns firing. A glance across the reservoir, towards the aforementioned expansive parking and launch area, reveals a group of young twenty-somethings spending their day shooting at things. Now this being a rural area, I try to be understanding. We're just going to park nearby, launch our boats, and not involve ourselves with them in any way. But it seems they are not just firing the odd gun, but they must also be dealing with some sort of major explosive, because every so often is a boom that rattles the nerves and pauses the heart. Still, launch boats, be on our way.
The first parking area, just before the Wild Bunch, looked good, but when we got down there the water was moving too swiftly. We'd never get back. So I decided that we would have to drive through the firing range and head a bit farther down. I go to make a quick three point turn, and it happened.
The truck got stuck in the sand.
No it's not a 4X4 (making me an instant outcast in these here parts.) Just two wheel, rear wheel drive. We immediately tried to do a big accelerate to get out. That succeded in digging us in a bit deeper. Suddenly the day changed.
We spent about 45 minutes digging the tire out (Blam! Blam!), laying rocks (hot rocks laying in the sun) around, beneath, in front of, and behind the tire in question( Pow! Pow!), and trying to get out(BOOM!) No luck.
Then two women pulled up in a Prius, got out, and started picking berries. When I thought they were getting ready to leave I went and asked if they would be so kind as to call a tow truck when they got back to town. They kindly agreed. Then...they went and changed into swimsuits, got out there beach chairs and headed down to the shore(Pow!Pow!) They weren't going anywhere for awhile (BOOM!) Back to digging out the sand (with my oar!) and trying to get enough rocks under the tire to create some traction(Pow! Pow!) The gunfire, I actually acclimated to and was fine with, but the occasional explosion was not helpful in light of our situation.
After another hour+ of this (Including a now comedic sequence where we tried to lay a discarded shade shelter under the tires to create traction) and I was beginning to give up hope. The crazy, gun toting, explosive detonating twenty-somethings had finally left. The two women seemed to be settling in for the week, and I was running out of options. I was starting to try and figure out who was going to have to wind up eating who.
Then another two carloads of people showed up to come and hang out at the reservoir. After 20 minutes one of them asked Tom if we were stuck, and did we need help. Now this guy was not the kind of guy that Tom would ever normally feel comfortable talking with. Goateed, baseball capped, wife beater wearing, tattooed...generally not Tom's comfort zone. Tom said yes we needed help and would accept whatever he had to offer.
Guy brings his smallish Toyota 4X4 around, has straps to connect to us, knows how to connect to us, connects us, and pulls us out. It was awesome. There was a giant gaping hole behind us, filled with the results of our road building project(damn rocks!) Within about 30 seconds, he unhooked, and drove back to his friends. I threw the truck back into drive and...started spinning the wheels in the sand again! I sat there until he came back, looking very disappointed in us, "Still stuck?"
"Seems so."
He gave us a couple of pointers, and we finally, and totally, managed to free ourselves. I almost took off without Tom and the kayaks I was so so eager to keep going until I was certain I was on solid ground.
So there you go. A kayaking adventure with absoutely no kayaking involved. There are no photos. I thought about it, but I'm pretty sure divorce proceedings would have been involved.
LESSONS LEARNED: Pavement is good. When you hear gunshots, always turn around immediately (I can't believe I missed that sign from God,) and (sigh) don't judge people. The twenty-somethings looked far more wholesome than the guy who helped us, and they couldn't possibly have been less help, unless they started shooting directly at us.
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