As many of you know, one of the big projects Reverie completed this year was having the area leveled, which is now home to our fire pit. What was once a lumpy hillside amazingly transformed into the perfect place to host meals and gatherings with the help of bulldozers, backhoes, and men stacking huge rocks. And by men, I don’t mean Stan and Ramon.
The next step was to set up our chipper and turn our huge piles of branches lower down the property into the gorgeously landscaped hangout spot you’ve come to know and love (or will). It took 8 loads of branches filled to the brim and beyond in our trusty Ford F150 – and that only got Steven and I only ¾ of the way there. The leveled area isn’t big enough to turn a vehicle around in, so I had to back up the truck each time. And, like that last snowboard run at 4:30pm on a powder day, sometimes we need to quit while we’re ahead.
Backing down the ramp with load number 8, careful not to drive either into the fire pit on one side, or off the cliff on the other, things started to unravel. Despite my mad skills and best attempts, I started to lose one downward wheel. Even in 4-wheel drive, my efforts to regain the ship only made matters worse and I started to lose the other downhill wheel. The passenger side is tipped downhill and the driver’s door, pointed skyward, is almost too heavy to open from the angle.
At that exact moment, Tamara, who had just returned from Placerville, came around the corner, took one look at the truck about to drive off the cliff, her eyes about to pop out of her head, and turned in the other direction. Steven and I assumed she went to get Ramon.
With the truck pitched at an unsteady 45-degree angle, I’m in the driver’s seat and Steven is looking seriously concerned. The truck begins to slide.
… stay tuned for Stan’s next blog if he somehow gets out of this jam.