Topo Guide Indian Mesa Ruin Album Home
Watching people is one of life’s more enjoyable pastimes. But as we travel further from our metropolitan encampments we might expect the opportunity to observe the foibles of our challenged friends would diminish. That is not necessarily so. Rather, as our less logical friends move from the restrictive scrutiny of the city streets to the anonymity of the outback, they are freed, if not compelled, to display the full extent of their limited commonsense and to add to the abundance of backwoods lore. And when the challenged rush to the aid of their likewise troubled brethren, lore has the potential to become legend.
After leaving I-17, the road to Indian Mesa proves to be a rough journey after starting out on pavement; which gives away to a poorly maintained, washboard dirt road; which fords the Aqua Fria River bottom to become a high clearance vehicle road running beside and frequently in the river channel. This was not a route for Ms. Trekker’s old jalopy, let alone for a family sedan. Merrily, I chugged along the river bottom in my newly acquired, high clearance, 4WD, 4-Runner until I was flagged down by a passing Samaritan.
“Do you have
a tow rope?” he inquired.
“No”, I replied, “What’s the problem.”
“You won't believe it! Some clown
has his Pontiac Supreme stuck in the sand about a half-a-mile ahead, and another
guy has his Jeep stranded out in Lake Pleasant about a mile further down,” he
gaffed.
Sure enough, as I reached the outcropping where the road leaves the river and heads up past Indian Mesa I spotted the stranded sedan, now in the company of a 4WD pickup and a Jeep. I was definitely impressed to see the sedan had made it so far but since help had already arrived ahead of me, I continued on. Shortly I was turned back when the difficulty of the road ahead suddenly exceeded my willingness to push my still developing 4WD skills. After retracing my route to find a parking place before continuing to the ruin on foot, I noticed the sedan was still stuck on the sand bar. Curious, I drove on down to get a closer look and to see if I could lend a hand. The car, which was actually a relatively new, two-door, front wheel drive Cadillac, was stuck up to its front axel in the sand. Pontiac or Cadillac – what’s the difference when the question is, “What flight of fantasy drove a person to think he could drive a luxury sedan through the sand in 4WD country?” This incredible scene surely is evidence that money and commonsense do not necessarily go hand in hand nor does one beget one the other.
The Samaritans and car’s owner were busily digging in the sand at the front of the still buried car. I looked at the rear of the car and found that the rear wheels were not buried and the undercarriage was easily accessible, so I asked the Samaritans what they were doing. Indignantly they replied as if I was more than a just little daft that they were digging out the front end of the car so they could attach a tow strap and pull the car out. They added, they had been digging for quite awhile and but still could not see or reach the undercarriage. Evidently it had not occurred to them that they were playing the role of the ant-lion and the car was the ant – the harder and faster they dug away the sand, the deeper the car sank. I suggested attaching the tow strap to the rear of the car and pulling it out in the direction from which it had come. This suggestion was greeted with a chorus of reasons why it couldn’t be done. But tiring as they dug, one by one the Samaritans walked around to look at the rear of the car.
Finally the leader of the Samaritans took a look at the rear of the car and realized my suggestion might hold some merit; not only would it be far less tiring but he could fire up his machismo belching, 4WD, F-250 Ford diesel pickup – a chance to display how awesome fire power alone could rule the day. They got out a fifty-foot tow strap and secured one end to the lower suspension arm of one of the Cadillac’s rear wheels. The other end was attached to the fire-breathing monster, which moved forward slowly to take up the slack. The F-250 dug in with all four wheels spinning and spitting sand while the rest of us pushed; the car didn’t budge; something was wrong. Although the owner had gotten in to steer the Caddy, he had left it in park; he had not started it; he had not put it in reverse – I guess he thought the fire breather could work miracles on its own. We shouted for the driver of the Ford to stop so we could give instructions to the Caddy’s driver.
After a brief “Towing 101” course had been given to the Caddy’s owner, they started again and this time the car easily backed out of the hole excavated by the Samaritans. But as the car cleared the hole, the off-center tow strap caused it to skew to the right and head toward embankment. Meanwhile, as the car played crack-the-whip at the end of that long strap, the Ford was belching fire and spewing sand while turning to avoid the left river bank. At first the Caddy’s owner spun the front wheels in the direction of the slide causing the car to crab sideways even faster towards the bank. The Samaritans shouted for the owner to straighten his front wheels, which he did, but then he inexplicably “gunned it”. With the off-center tow strap holding the skewed Caddy and the Ford churning rooster-tails of sand as it raced up the riverbed, the Caddy lurched sideways and bounded up the embankment until it bounced to a stop – high-centered on a pile of rubble and sand about two feet above the river bottom. Mercifully the driver of the fire breather had finally stopped.
Immediately the Samaritans launched into a cacophony of conflicting solutions for the poor Cadillac’s new predicament. I had heard enough – someone had to put an end to this travesty. Patiently it was explained that the car had to be pulled evenly by attaching the tow strap to both sides of the Caddy’s undercarriage while using as short of lead as possible – they said they couldn’t because had only had a single clevis to use for securing the tow strap. Three explanations were required to convince them it could be done with a single clevis but at last they shortened the tow strap, connected to both sides of the undercarriage and pulled the Caddy gently off the embankment. Astonishingly, the Cadillac was finally extricated from the riverbed and the imprisoning sand but not without with a few final skirmishes - its owner kept "gunning it" and dangerously running over the slackened tow strap.
As I walked back to my 4-Runner, I was relieved that success had been achieved without injury but then I heard one of the Samaritans express concern that they might be too late to help the guy with the Jeep stranded in the lake – I hoped he was right. Next the leader of the Samaritans asked if the Cadillac was licensed in the state of Arizona – "Why", I wondered, was he really about to accept a check for his "services"?
Trekker