Here's another sample of my autobiography I thought you might enjoy!

 

            Another time I was driving a narrow road downhill.  As I went downhill, the road became narrower and steeper.  I could not turn around, but I was worried, as the road worsened, that I’d never get enough speed to drive back up hill over the rocks and ruts.  Finally, I simply stopped.  I walked downhill.  The road quickly became impassable.  These were abandoned logging roads, so it is not like it was getting regular use.  I went back to the truck and started to back up.  I immediately had a problem.  The truck tires would spin and I went nowhere.  Once again, I needed a solution and didn’t want to call the office for a bulldozer.  I tried driving downhill and then backing up.  Same problem. 

 

            I got out again to look at the situation.  I had a winch and a cable.  But I was unable to pull the truck uphill by hand.  I’d tried driving down hill.  There was no place to turn around.  I’d tried the winch.  No such luck.  I’d tried backing up hill only to smell burning rubber and hear spinning tires.  An hour had past.  I got out of the truck again to figure out a solution.  What could I do?  I didn’t want to walk back up to the top of the hill so I could get on the radio and call for help. I’d done that twice that summer.

 

            I saw one option.  Downhill I saw a spot where I might, might, get the truck turned around.  I didn’t have a measure tape.  So I stepped off the length of the truck.  Then I stepped of the width of the road.  I had four inches (10 cm) to spare.  But, I’m a scientist and loved math.  I knew that a rectangle, the shape of the truck, is longer on the diagonal distances than the length of the truck.  It possible for me to get the truck perpendicular to the road, based only on the width of the road and the length of the truck.  But was it possible to get the truck diagonally across the road and still not hit the trees or the solid rock embankment.

 

            I decided to try.  I very carefully drove down to the wide spot in the road.  Wide?  It was four inches wider than the length of the truck with trees on one side and solid rock on the other.  I drove the truck in at an angle and stopped.  I couldn’t simply back up, because I wanted to look behind the truck and see how much space I had.  I could not go forward.  The front bumper was against rock.  After checking, I saw I could back up about 18 inches.  The truck was still diagonally stuck across the road and not perpendicular to it.  I was not sure if the wheels would spin.  If they did, I might not be able to go forward or backward.

 

            I very carefully backed up, the wheels gripping the loose gravel and dirt.  I’d made the first part of the turn but the back of the truck hung over the cliff, yes, cliff.  I had to be careful to not back up too far. If I did, the back of the truck would drop off the edge and I really would be stuck good.  I got back in the truck, turned the wheels and rolled forward into the cliff again, on the uphill side this time.  Yes, literally, into the cliff.  I used every possible inch.  I got out again.  I could back up again, but this time only 14 inches.  The truck was becoming more perpendicular and less diagonal in the road.  This time I rolled into the cliff again.

 

            Now I had a complication.  When I backed up, the back end of the truck was directed toward a tree.  I could only back up eight inches.  I had picked this spot because it was the widest place in the road, but also because the trees would definitely keep me from driving off the cliff.  The cliff was really only a steep slope, but if the wheels when off of it, I might not go down the steep hillside, but the end of the back truck would be on the ground and the wheels in the air.  But I had passed several significant tests.  First, I could back up.  Second, the truck was fitting into the space.  I still didn’t know if I could get it fully perpendicular in the road.  Calling someone now would be useless.  I was committed to getting myself out.  With the truck sideways in the road, even though not perpendicular, it could not be pulled out by a dozer or winch.  I had driven it to this position and driving was probably the only way out.

 

            Very quickly a new problem developed.  With each turn, I had less and less space to turn in.  Within a few forward/backward motions, I was down to about four inches of backing space.  I was still not sure this was going to work.  As I slid the truck back and forth it seemed I was stuck in place.  I could not determine if the front of the truck was still moving uphill or the back downhill.  For literally several minutes I gentle rocked the truck, four inches forward, four inches back.  I could turn the wheels, but not by much.  But I could tell, after three or four moves, the front of the truck was still moving up him, albeit very slowly.  Finally, I reached the half way point.

 

            “Well, I got it to here, I can get it out,” I thought.  The truck was perfectly perpendicular to the road.  If someone came down the hill they would be pointed at my driver’s side door.  My only problem?  My front bumper was again a rock wall and four inches from my back bumper as a 12 inch diameter tree.  After about 15 more minutes I’d slowly cleared the tree with the back end of the truck and had more room to back up, even if the end of the truck was now hanging over the cliff again.  I went back to getting in and out of the truck to check my backing distance.  I looked at the ground with the door open as I backed up and visually measured the actual distance I moved backward.  Now I had a new concern.  With the front of the truck turned up hill, would the tires start spinning?

 

            With each turn, the truck pointed uphill, and I had to give it a little gas while being careful to not hit the rock hard enough to damage the truck.  I feared the truck tires would spin, but fortunately I was able to keep maneuvering.  Finally, I saw a chance to complete the turn and got the truck pointed directly up hill.  “Fhweeee,” I thought.  I looked at my watch.  Three hours had passed since I first got stuck.  I had one last problem.  I’d come farther down this road than I wanted to.  Could I get up enough speed to get up it, considering it was rocky, rutted, and steep.

 

            I got out again.  I walked up and scouted out a path between the rocks and ruts.  “I can do this,” I thought.  I climbed back in the truck and hit the gas gently.  As soon as the truck was moving, I gave it more gas and almost immediately the truck wheels started spinning.  I floored it.  Wrong move.  I smelled burning rubber and stopped moving forward with the tires spinning freely.  I’d managed to get the truck pointed up hill, but my first attempt to drive out had failed miserably.  “I’m not calling for help now!” I told myself as I climbed out again.  I scouted out the road and tried again.  This time, I took the start a little slower so the wheels would not spin.  I managed to go fast, but soon had the same problem of spinning wheels and burning rubber.  The road was steeper ahead.  I was stuck again, but in a different way.  I stopped.

 

            I need to do this right and I still thought I had a chance.  But I had to plan this very carefully.  After scouting out the situation, and climbing back in the truck, I backed down the hill very strategically.  If I went too far, it became steeper again and the wheels might spin immediately. Then I would be stuck!  If I didn’t go down far enough, the road would become too steep too quickly, and I’d be spinning again.  I picked my poison and posed for the third attempt.

 

            I took it a little slower, afraid of two things.  If I went too slow, I’d never make it over the steep area up ahead.  If I went to fast, burning rubber again.  This time I hit it just right.  I picked up momentum and hit the steep area with enough speed to keep going.  I was going fast enough I could give it more gas.  The wheels spun a little, but now I was moving and starting to bounce.  I bounced and began to fly over the ruts and rocks, between the cliff on the uphill side and the trees and slope to the right.  Things were still uncertain for the first 50 yards, but finally I could slow down and drive.  I’d make it!