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It was about 1981 and I had owned my WDX for only about a year or so. One night, I received a phone call from a local kid who was still in high school. He and a bunch of his buddies had taken his dad’s new Ford F250 four-wheeling and had proceeded to get it hopelessly stuck.
Dad joined me for the adventure and we loaded up all of the chains, snatch blocks, and jerk straps that I had, and headed out to find them with the directions they had given. As it turned out, they had been wheeling in the Mississippi River bottoms and had ventured into a corn field next to the dominant timber. The field had been plowed in the fall. It was now November; the river was out of its banks and covering the field. A thin crust of ice was covering the water.
I found the kids along the interstate. They had hitched a ride into town and back to make the phone call. All were soaking wet and they were trying to get warm in a car of a friend who had was also called and who had joined them. They pointed out into the water covered field and said that the truck was “out there”. They all climbed into the back of the Power-Wagon and I aimed in the direction that they were pointing. Their truck was too far away for my high beams to reach. I drove until I could see their truck and stopped. All I could see was water in all directions. Water was up on the running boards. Their truck was still off in the distance and water was up on its doors.
I said that this was as far as I would go and they had better hope that the winch cable reached. I pulled all of the 250’ feet of cable out towards their truck across the plowed ground through the ice and water. With a couple of log chains, I was just able to reach the rear bumper. I returned to the Power-Wagon and my rubber insulated boots were full of water and my wallet was soaked from stooping down to find a place to attach my chains. The kids had stayed in the back of my truck the whole time.
I wound in the winch cable and the F250 continued to follow the furrows and the ruts it had made going in. This put it on a heading off to one side of the Power-Wagon. I did not realize it until it was too late that I was winding my cable off the passenger side of the winch drum. From that point, I had to back out and tow the F250 along at the end of my cable.
When I get the whole mess back to the interstate, I made them all empty their pockets to pay me. The kid who was driving was just glad to have his friends to help pay the bill and to keep the secret from his dad. Before I left, I told them to never call me again.
On the way home, I had to ask Dad to take his boots off so I could wear them and keep my feet from getting frostbite. He had stayed warm and dry in the truck the whole time. I had about 30 feet of cable wrapped off the side of the drum. The next day I had to take half the winch apart and hook the cable to a telephone pole while backing the truck up to unravel the mess. I later found water damage inside my hubs and bearings.
Dad joined me for the adventure and we loaded up all of the chains, snatch blocks, and jerk straps that I had, and headed out to find them with the directions they had given. As it turned out, they had been wheeling in the Mississippi River bottoms and had ventured into a corn field next to the dominant timber. The field had been plowed in the fall. It was now November; the river was out of its banks and covering the field. A thin crust of ice was covering the water.
I found the kids along the interstate. They had hitched a ride into town and back to make the phone call. All were soaking wet and they were trying to get warm in a car of a friend who had was also called and who had joined them. They pointed out into the water covered field and said that the truck was “out there”. They all climbed into the back of the Power-Wagon and I aimed in the direction that they were pointing. Their truck was too far away for my high beams to reach. I drove until I could see their truck and stopped. All I could see was water in all directions. Water was up on the running boards. Their truck was still off in the distance and water was up on its doors.
I said that this was as far as I would go and they had better hope that the winch cable reached. I pulled all of the 250’ feet of cable out towards their truck across the plowed ground through the ice and water. With a couple of log chains, I was just able to reach the rear bumper. I returned to the Power-Wagon and my rubber insulated boots were full of water and my wallet was soaked from stooping down to find a place to attach my chains. The kids had stayed in the back of my truck the whole time.
I wound in the winch cable and the F250 continued to follow the furrows and the ruts it had made going in. This put it on a heading off to one side of the Power-Wagon. I did not realize it until it was too late that I was winding my cable off the passenger side of the winch drum. From that point, I had to back out and tow the F250 along at the end of my cable.
When I get the whole mess back to the interstate, I made them all empty their pockets to pay me. The kid who was driving was just glad to have his friends to help pay the bill and to keep the secret from his dad. Before I left, I told them to never call me again.
On the way home, I had to ask Dad to take his boots off so I could wear them and keep my feet from getting frostbite. He had stayed warm and dry in the truck the whole time. I had about 30 feet of cable wrapped off the side of the drum. The next day I had to take half the winch apart and hook the cable to a telephone pole while backing the truck up to unravel the mess. I later found water damage inside my hubs and bearings.
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