My hill story. I grew up in kettle moraine hills in central Wisconsin, just a few miles from the highest point in the state, Timm's Hill. Our house was at the end of a gravel road a little less than a mile long. The drive was all hills and turns, and many drivers ended up in the ditch, most in winter but some when there was no snow.
Leaving highway 86, it is a ninety-degree turn onto our road. The first hundred yards or so is a mild uphill, a long sweeping turn, with a steep bank to one side, and trees on the other. One summer day, a neighbor called for help pulling a stuck truck at their place, several miles away. We had only one four-wheel drive vehicle, a rusted-out Willy's Jeep, circa 1945, with no brakes. It was our winter plow vehicle, and was reasonably safe to drive with a snow plow mounted that you could drop and use as an anchor when you needed to stop. It also had a high-low range transfer case, so in low range with a little clutch action and engine braking, it could be slowed considerably. The decision was made to remove the plow, and I would drive the Jeep, while Dad and my little brother would drive one of our other vehicles. Last crucial detail: the transfer case was worn out, so a big thick rubber band was used to hold the lever in low range. We set out, Dad in the lead, and just as we started down the last hill of our road, which ended at the highway, the rubber band broke and Jeep was free wheeling. Gulp! Try as I might, it would not go back into gear. I tried to slalom in the loose gravel to kill speed, swerving back and forth, but that wasn't too effective. As I overtook Dad, I had to straighten out. I flew by him on the right, gathering speed toward that T-intersection with the highway. Thinking fast, I decided to use the ditch on the right side of the road like a banked curve at the intersection with the highway. Wouldn't you know it, as I sped up to the highway, there was a loaded logging truck, stacked high with trees, passing from left to right. If I'd gone straight through the intersection, he would have creamed me. I turned hard right, into the ditch alongside our gravel road, which immediately banked right to run parallel with the highway. The Jeep made the turn without flipping, and I ended up running right down the shoulder, right next to that logging truck, maybe five feet between us. I coasted to a stop, put the Jeep in gear and shut it off, got out and was just so happy to be alive... Max Dillon, Charleston SC _______________________________________ http://www.okiebenz.com To search list archives http://www.okiebenz.com/archive/ To Unsubscribe or change delivery options go to: http://mail.okiebenz.com/mailman/listinfo/mercedes_okiebenz.com All posts are the result of individual contributors and as such, those individuals are responsible for the content of the post. The list owner has no control over the content of the messages of each contributor.
