Millions of Americans are worried about the stock market, which tanked last week. People saw their retirement accounts shrink dramatically, which is scary.
However, no one is thinking about the stock market on Lake Mary Road this week. Instead, our minds are focused on a more immediate threat. The Mississippi River is flooding for the second time this spring, and my neighbors are fleeing to high ground.
Hour after hour, I watched guys in trucker hats driving pickup trucks by my home, towing trailers loaded with household cargo. Nobody wants to be trapped on low ground when the river overflows and covers Lake Mary Road, cutting off our only route to safety.
My family was one of the last to leave. Nevertheless, we knew we had a few hours before the mighty river overflowed into our yard--plenty of time to execute our escape plan.
At first, all went well. Charlie towed our party barge to the parking lot at the Lake Mary Store, where it would be safe. Then we loaded the four-wheeler and my beloved Toro lawnmower (a Time Cutter Max model) onto our utility trailer.
We still had room on the trailer for the Kubota all-terrain vehicle, but the damn thing wouldn't start.
Leave it, I suggested. After all, its engine had suffered some mysterious breakdown several months ago and was just a pile of junk. If the river inundates it with filthy flood water, what's the harm? We can repurpose it as Mississippi yard art.
But I was overruled. This family doesn't abandon its wounded, someone sternly reminded me. Indeed, we were experiencing a Blackhawk Down moment and were honor-bound to extract our inert Kubota from the river's voracious maw.
Plan A. We hitched the four-wheeler's winch to the Kubota's front bumper and attempted to pull the dead beast onto the trailer. No go. The Kubota was too heavy for the winch and didn't move.
Plan B. Using the pickup truck, we towed the Kubota to the top of a brushpile in the yard, hoping to get it elevated enough to be above the waterline when the floodwater arrived.
Again, no go. The Kubota's weight flattened the brushpile, and our moribund recreational vehicle sank all the way back to ground level.
Plan C. We decided to tow the Kubota to Lake Mary Store, a four-mile journey. With some trepidation, I volunteered to steer the Kubota as it was being pulled behind the truck.
Could I do it? After all, I'm partially incapacitated by a stroke and wasn't sure my left arm was strong enough to manage the steering wheel, which is very hard to turn when the engine isn't running.
We would soon know. Charlie pulled out on the gravel road in his truck, doing about 20 miles an hour, dragging me and the Kubota at the end of a tow rope.
By this time, night had descended, and I rolled along in the darkness, unable to see anything other than the tailights of the truck.
It was an exhilarating experience. The Kubota steered easily after it got moving, and I effortlessly maneuvered around the potholes. My vehicle glided through the darkness in perfect silence.
This, I thought to myself, must be what it feels like to drive a Tesla. When the engine's off, the Kubota is as quiet as an electric vehicle, and of course, it gets great mileage when it's being towed.
In a few moments, we arrived at the Lake Mary Store. We unhitched the tow rope and rolled the Kubota downhill until it nested safely next to our party barge.
Success! Once again, our family outfoxed the Mississippi River, and we celebrated with a few Bud Lights.
No one gets left behind. |