Unhitched, Part Two

We unpacked our gear and got the cabin situated. And while I was patting out hamburgers, it dawned on me that the parking lot might have video surveillance. Oh lord. I can’t keep this a secret, if there’s a video of me running around like a crazy chicken. And I had to know right then. So…

“Bill? I didn’t put the padlock on the trailer. I think we’d better run up there and lock it. Because wouldn’t it be awful if we went up to the parking lot at the end of the week, and our trailer wasn’t there?”

Better safe than sorry. So we drove back up to the remote lot. And there, posted way up high on a light pole was this:

Bill aimed the headlights at our boat trailer, and started to get out of the truck.

I closed my eyes and squeaked, “Um, could you just sit here for a second? I have something I need to tell you.”

This next part is kind of a blur to me. There were some loud words (him) and some crying (me). And some stomping around the gravel parking lot (him). And some pleading (me) to not stand so close to the edge (him). And some door slamming (him). And some “just don’t say another word (him again).” And some sniffling (me again). And some silence (him).

Back in the cabin, I tearfully went back to making supper. And Bill glowered over a scotch. And just when I thought our fishing vacation was doomed, I heard Bill chuckle.

“It’s not funny,” I said.

“It is funny! It is the funniest thing you’ve ever done! And if the camera really taped you, we’re going to make $10,000 on World’s Funniest Videos!”

Phew.

We were waiting at the office at 7:00 the next morning, when it opened. I explained to the manager what I’d done. And this feller just gave a low whistle of appreciation. “Which side did it go over?” I told him. And he said, “Weeeeellll, I’m a-gonna have-ta git m’ boots on fer this ‘n.” He told us to meet him up there. And that he’d be bringing some help.

We did. And he did. He brought two more fellers and a four-wheeler rigged with a winch and cable. Them fellers set to scramblin’ down the cliff, hooked that trailer, and started to winch. Bill stood on the front end of the four-wheeler, as ballast, so it didn’t flip over the side of the cliff. And little by little, the other trailer was dragged up and onto the gravel. At one point, Bill pointed out that they didn’t have to rappel down, but could walk down the driveway and enter the forest without risking their necks. “Shoo-ee, I always wanted to try this!” was the toothless, grinning answer.

The rescued trailer was pretty old and rusty. And who knows if I busted its tail light, or if it was already busted. The manager-feller said he had no way of knowing who it belonged to, or if had been abandoned up here.

Can’t you look at the surveillance video to see?

“Aw, that durn thing ain’t worked in years.”

Epilogue

The safety chains are the last things you take off a trailer.

And laughing together sure helps you to stay hitched.