It Didn't Look That Deep !!!

There are things that happen to you. Things that result from what seemed like a good idea at the time. Things that happen because someone else did it to you (my mom seldom believed that either). And things that just happen because you are there. I had a tough time deciding what life experience to share this week, but decided on one that falls under the "good idea at the time" heading.

In the town where I grew up there is a river.... the South Umpqua River to be exact, that runs through the portion of the town where the west side joins the east side. There are two bridges, one for east bound and another for west bound traffic. Between these two bridges is an area of the river where you can drive down into the river bed at low water season and gather rocks. Wonderful round rocks that we call "river rock" in the northwest because.... well just because. They are all sizes, worn round from river erosion and wearing on other rocks. The bedrock will actually have round "bowls" worn in the surface from these boulders moving around due to the river current and over years and years, make the riverbed look like it's covered with craters. This action will also have the same effect on the softer river floor, where water flowing around large boulders, stranded logs etc will dredge out "bowls" on the down stream side of the obstacle. When the water level drops, the result is puddles. Some small like the size of a beach ball, some large like the size of a dump truck. Now that you have visualized this part of this story, it's time to move on to what this story is really about.

We lived on a ranch west of Roseburg. One of the things we would do every summer was to drive the truck down to the river and gather 50 rocks or so and take them back home to use for landscaping the yard. Over the years we had quite a collection, and had built several planters, walls etc from these fantastic rocks. It had become tradition to drive splashing through a certain "bowl" each year when we drove down into the riverbed. The water was always about a foot deep, and would make a huge splash that the kids loved. This particular year was no different. Today it was myself and all four kids, with Cody, the youngest, being about 8 months old. Today it was the same bowl. Today was going to be the best splash ever, because MOM wasn't with us. Today was going to be a great DAD / KIDS bonding day. We headed for the bowl at about 10 mph. The kids squealing, me focused on splashing BIG, engine revved and pedal to the floor as we hit the water. Did I mention the water was ALWAYS "one" foot deep?....... Something happened the previous winter. Apparently the bowl got deeper. "How much deeper?" you are asking? As the water cascaded over the hood of the truck and hit the windshield I was asking myself the same question...... which I soon found out. With the engine dead (well flooded literally) we were pointed at approximately a 45 degree angle and water was over the hood, up to the windshield and coming in around the doors. Now I knew how deep the bowl was. Deep enough to swallow a pickup truck. Since we are all still alive today you have guessed we all got out okay, and we did. But not un-noticed. Did I mention there were two bridges overhead? Yes, two bridges with walkways so the passers-by could look down at the beautiful river, and the red pickup truck half buried in water with its rear end sticking up in the air for all the world to see. Amazing how quickly a crowd gathers....... must have been 30 people watching us climb out of the cab and wade to dry land. That was embarrassing yes, but not as embarrassing as walking all four kids to a friends house and asking them to drive us home to get the tractor. Once home I then had to ask my dad to help me get the truck out of the river. Now you wouldn't think this would be pleasant either, but the fact is I had, over the years, pulled my dad out of creeks, ravines, mud holes, ponds, wells, bogs and ditches enough times that I had learned to never, never ask him how he got in there. I was fortunate that in this rescue he extended me the same courtesy. Never asked.....and I never told. There was a nice crowd gathered as we drove the tractor down into the riverbed to retrieve the red pickup truck with it's rear pointing skyward. Not 30 people this time, but more like 100 on each bridge. 200 pairs of eyes wondering what redneck had driven into the river, and 200 pairs of hands applauding as a big John Deere pulled a waterlogged truck to dry land and the 7 mile tow home.

A moral to the story? Always. There is an object lesson in everything we do. I suspect there are things we do that we shouldn't. Things that even though we have done them before and things worked out fine, we may get surprised. The river is it's own force and does things below the surface that we can't see. Change is inevitable in things you have no control over, and it's wise to always check how deep the water is before you drive ahead full steam. Especially if part of the consequence is wondering what we're going to tell mom when we get home. And yes..... it did seem like a good idea at the time.

Have a great week and stay dry !!
Martin