Just as darkness was setting this evening I decided I had to continue with the regimen started just yesterday in preparation for the trip to South Padre Island. The regimen; casting the Sage Z-Axis 10 I recently acquired to begin to build up some strength for it, me and it, against the wind.
I put the rod together (it really is amazing how much more gingerly one handles a rod that cost triple a TFO rod), borrowed reel seated, line loaded and walked down the street and up the block to a nearby park. Darkness. Perfect for what I may be facing next month.
, and I'm no Tiger Woods when it comes to playing with pain. I worked out the muscle kinks and began to get the gist of the rod, that being this size rod is a double hauler start to finish. Once that was realized, I started moving some line – which direction I could not see, but I did begin to hang some trees at sixty feet that I could not reach at first.
Enough. I reeled in after about 20 casts and headed for home repeating the same route as the outgoing route; down the street, leisurely down my street, past our VW parked in front of the house and up to the front porch. I softly, gently broke down my rod and went inside, hollered at Leslie and heard her holler back. The darn dogs made a racket for some reason. Ten seconds later someone knocks at the door. "Someone just hit your car", was the soft voice from the teenage neighbor across the street.
I told Leslie to stay with the accident as I knew the police would arrive there first and could even drive by her not knowing she was involved with anything except the laundry she was carrying, a bloody nose and two virtually shut black eyes. "I'm going with her!", and off we go on a staggering walk across some yards toward and then away from houses and doors and pinballing without ringing a bell or lighting a light. On to a major street all the while I am admonishing her to give it up because I am going with her and she isn't getting away. Into the street and into the direct line of traffic, which luckily at the moment, there was little traffic. She staggers across to the other side to stumble downhill with the flow of traffic. Cars start coming from behind, and the only thing I could do to save her without touching her was flash the cars coming up from behind. They heed the bizarre warning of an extremely powerful camera flash, slow to a crawl and pass by watching the freakshow parade of two. Just another night in Denton, Texas, they think to themselves.
Finally the street begins to level out at the bottom of the hill and she hooks a right, straight for cement city. This street is obscure to say the least, so I know her odds of escape have just increased dramatically. All the while, I am looking for the Crown Vic Cavalry to show up,walking backwards and waiting to see one of Denton's finest pass down the major street in search of the freakshow parade. Again, I was ready for the opportunity, and as soon as I saw the unit passing down the previous street at about 500 yards distance, I HIT HIM with the flash. Bing. He stopped, turned and was coming on. He never would have seen her as she had started skirting close to buildings and way off the street – dazed and confused. He hits the lights when he sees her, and she wheels around and falls flat on her back. Citizen pursuit over.
I made it back to the wreckage that was a 45-mpg 2002 VW Diesel Beetle. Leslie is dazed at our lack of luck – now standing at four wrecks for that car this year. Glass, lights pieces and parts strewn all over the distance from impact to stopping point. Then, the young neighbor who knocked on our door made a profound observation; "There's no skid marks." There are no skid marks. There are no other areas of impact on the entire street. One would expect a swerve to the left and right, and over the curb and into a yard, back onto the street and bang. Nope. This was a clean, nose to nose straight head-on impact.
Once the arresting officer made it back to the scene, he filled in one of the blanks – she had tried to commit suicide last night. To an uneducated person, this looks a lot like a second attempt. Others had seen her close up and were certainly of the opinion she was "under the influence", although I was close enough to her to know it wasn't alcohol. I am sure the rocket fuel powered airbag had some influence on her condition.
Where do the miracles start and where do they end? First, the driver is still alive. No one died in front of our quaint little house on our quaint little street tonight. Second, I had just walked the exact path of destruction less than one minute before it happened – more like 45 seconds. Third, Leslie and I had just gotten home thirty minutes earlier, and could have easily been sitting in the car or just getting out. Sure I could have parked in the driveway, but then maybe my Land Cruiser would have been in the street and she would be completely and irreversibly dead. God love this person and God help this person.
Now, the world of insurance, claims, police reports, rental cars and disdain for the sorry way insurance companies will treat us — all these and more that we do not know await us upon tomorrow's dawning. If we were supposed to learn something from the material experiences doled out from the previous three accidents, we must not yet know what that is.
woah. glad you guys, and everyone else is ok. i'm guessing the beetle is done for? that poor little car. saving a life is one of the main purposes of a car though, so i guess it did it's job, just not in the usual way.
i'll be in denton around the 18th of july. maybe a day or two before or after, i haven't decided yet. will you and leslie be in town?
Somehow, I don't think "Hey, the weather's going to be great Monday and I need to scout – wanna go fishing?" is the right response.
Eventhough you two have the most teutonic names going, I think it's time to give up on the farfugnugen – maybe some Subaru kharma would work better!