What comes after Wordless Wednesday?
Maybe Thousand Word Thursday?
Or just a symptom of a tired mind (:
They told me the old girl ran like a dream but she wasn’t much to look at. I argued that we should just wait for a truck from town, it would only take an hour, but they insisted their idea was better. I was having trouble disagreeing since it was me the got the four wheel drive bogged in the first place.
My last attempt to argue, because I had run out of excuses, was to remind them I didn’t know the farm owner they were sending me to and while farmers were usually generous people willing to help surely they wouldn’t just lend their vehicle to someone they didn’t know. The problem there was that it apparently wasn’t true. The farmer left his truck where he did for people like us who were bogged on the tracks surrounding his property, he even left the keys in the ignition. I knew I’d run out of excuses when they told me I didn’t even need to ask, the truck was there to be used by anyone who needed it.
The walk to the machinery shed was only ten minutes but it gave me time to think. My first thoughts where along the lines of the being pranked, I’d get to the shed, find the truck and the police would arrest me for theft. But I threw that idea away quickly because while the guys I was with were jokers they weren’t that cruel.
My second thought was I’d get to the shed and there would be no truck and they’d made me walk all that way as a joke only to have an actual truck on the way from town as I first suggested. Given I had already started walking I was just going to have to wear that one if it happened.
My third thought was that the guys were seasoned four wheel drivers, they got bogged regularly. I was a novice, it was my first time and I got bogged easily so it made sense that a good natured farmer provided a vehicle to save him having to rescue people himself.
The closer I got to the shed the more I convinced myself that thought number three was the logical one. When shed came into view not only was I convinced the truck would be there I was convinced that within minutes I’d be on my way to pull out a stranded four wheel drive.
I’d driven trucks before but I had never driven a tow truck and I hoped there was nothing different about them which required a particular skill. I would have enough on my plate driving someone elses truck, navigating the rough dirt tracks and trying to keep everything in one piece without learning new stuff. When it came to towing out the bogged four wheel drive I was hoping the other guys who seemed to know all about the truck also knew how to tow a second vehicle out of the mud.
It wasn’t until I rounded the corner of the machinery shed and I saw the truck I was suppose to pick up that I realised learning something new was not going to be required. When they told me she was not much too look they were definitely under stating things, she was stunning, she was beautiful, she was one of a kind.
Sitting in front of me with grass growing around the dual back wheels was an old Ford truck with a tow hook and winch on the back. I wasn’t an expert on such trucks but it looked to me like a 1960’s model, maybe a 50’s but more likely a 60’s. Of the three tyres I could see on the right hand side of the truck only one had tread on it, the other two looked like worn out licorice doughnuts.
The bars that protected the front of the truck where little more than steel pipes welded together in a cross hatch system that kind of looked like a farm gate. The pipes then traced their way back towards the doors, outlining the front fenders of the truck and bending their way down to the running boards and around to the back of the cabin. It might have looked odd but I bet it could take a pounding without damaging the truck body.
The glass of the windows was crystal clear, as was the windscreen and headlights indicating to me that the truck did get regularly used. The mirrors were in tact, the door handles looked operational and the tow hook on the back had shiny new cabling further indicating that the truck was well used. There was a few missing cosmetic items, like the ‘F’ from the word FORD and the shiny aluminium pin striping streak that should have been on the side of the hood, but with things like the shiny chrome running lights on the roof still in tact it was had to think this vehicle wasn’t loved by it’s owner in some way.
The only thing that was really out of the ordinary was the fact that every panel was covered in surface rust, there was not a lick of paint left any where on the truck. In fact the reddish rust patches had taken over so much of the truck that it looked like it the entire package was only held together by rust.
I opened the door half expecting to see missing seats, missing dials from the dashboard, cobwebs, maybe even wildlife but I was pleasantly shocked. Sure it was a bit dusty, a bit old and a bit worn but everything looked to be in it’s place and just like I’d been told, the keys were in the ignition.
I climbed into the cabin, got my bearings, wobbled the gear stick too see where the gears were, pumped the loud peddle a few times then turned the key. The engine roared into life.
They were wrong she was something to look at and she ran like a dream.