I was curious. There was a noise about a mile away, maybe two, that was irritating me. A noise like a Chinese water torture. A machine emitting beep beep beep as it backed up. Over and over, all summer and fall and now approaching winter. None of my family was irritated, but I heard a constant A above C beep sequence wherever I was working on our ranch. Over and over for months and finally it was time to find the source. Perhaps a bobcat or Track Hoe building a road or parking lot? A big parking lot it seemed.

Finally, the last wheelbarrow of dry firewood was stacked on the porch and I had enough. I got into the old Ranger and drove to the noise. I backtracked once but found the source. There is a road that goes off the main highway to a gated housing community. New homes. Gravel road. I drove up to the gate which was open. An electrically operated gate. There was a new road punched through the woods covered with #3 coarse rock for a short distance. I could hear the beep beep and knew it was the source area. I began walking up after shutting off the truck with it in reverse gear selected.

Realizing I might look out of place, I grabbed a couple of papers out of the glove box. Looking like an inspector of sorts as I walked up the wobbly rock. There was a parked truck just up ahead. It wasn’t bad going until I got past the truck. Then wet clay with puddles. Nope, too mucky.

Nothing within sight, curiosity somewhat satisfied, I started back to the truck. No truck. What! I looked left and right for it and rounding the corner, saw the truck. It was parked in a ditch on the wrong side of the road. A rather steep ditch and walking up to it, I found the ditch was very wet, standing water. The truck was ok. It started but 2nd gear just spun the wheels (not 4wd). Suddenly a young man up on the hill at the only home on the road so far, called out to me and said he could help. A tractor started and began to warm up in a shop and the young man walked down his driveway with a canvas tow strap and chain attached.

Astonished, I got down in the wet ditch and hooked the strap to a convenient tow hook on the front of the Ranger. The strap was of a perfect length and shortly, down the driveway came a smaller sized New Holland 4wd utility tractor.

A nod and thumbs up from the driver, back to the Ranger and the tractor pulled me out to the road. I crawled back under the front end of the truck (now with wet pants but not in 2 inches of water) got the strap off and the young man came off the seat of the tractor. He had a lit cigarette and I asked him for a smoke. Standing there with the crisis over, I was back in the military when only a smoke would do to relax. I have not smoked for decades but it is the thing to do when your day has been saved. A life saved is also worthy of a smoke saving thank you all around.

Several cars drove by, high end cars without a glance in their direction. Mercedes and Audis. A few minutes earlier, there would have been a serious problem. Two sixty thousand plus dollar cars with an old Ford rolling backwards across the road. I must have missed the last quarter of an inch engaging reverse or perhaps it just popped out from the strain of the steep road. The parking brake cables had long ago broken and if you are familiar with rear drum brakes, the repair is not fun, expensive and who needs parking brakes anyway? I quickly remembered that those are also referred to as emergency brakes.

It was amazing and impossible. Shaking and humbled, I drove home, thanking the Lord over and over for His protection and help.

My expotition (family word from wind in the willows) was successful as my rescuer filled me in on the development project. It was a driveway to a sold winery that overlooked Little Trade Lake. A good friend and neighbor that lives on the lake, was pleased at this turn of events. The winery had numerous parties that echoed over the lake waters late at night.

We could hear those parties now and then, but high above the water with amplified acoustics, it was over the top for our good friend. (Of course, as a small bonus, lake development in rural America is funding a large amount of township taxes.)

I lived in the ‘cities’ most of my life and can comprehend the quiet of rural lake cabins. Mostly quiet. Now it’s power bass boats and jet riders but only on the weekends that are warm. As a pleasant sound, those weekends are sprinkled with kids laughing and sporting their parents side by side utility vehicles up and down our road. It has to be an incredible feeling of freedom for them and does not irritate me too much.

We disconnected that back up alarm on our good neighbors skidsteer a long time ago when we serviced and used it. He never liked it either. No one has gotten run over yet.

It’s pretty good. Norm Peterson/ Jack Gator