MY truck flooded when I tried to start it after a meeting (An Emmaus gathering)last night. It had been idling too fast but I had no idea what to do about it. Bill Rakowitz hung around until the rough running leveled out and it was ready to head home. This morning it got to going much sooner than last night. Thinking it would be possible to reach my destination, prompted me to head on out. Things went well until a gas stop at Inez. The flooding and rough running resumed but it seemed to be okay. Less than a quarter mile down the road it just flat quit. Thank God for the tree shade on the rural highway.
A couple guys stopped but had no idea what to do. Troy Stidt stopped and squirted some cleaner on the injector nozzles and tried to reset the computer but it didn’t seem to happen. Late for helping another neighbor, he pushed me back down the road to Don Tipton’s body shop driveway but my rig stopped kind of cattywampus to the gravel driveway. Against better judgment, the gear shift lever was left in the park position instead of neutral. Since Don was his neighbor, Troy told me how to reach him by phone. My cell phone number was left at Tipton’s Conoco at Victoria.
Dwayne had to drop what he was doing to come haul me to the fundraiser clay shoot. About an hour into my helping score the practice rounds of the shooters, my phone rang. Don had decided to have his men work in the body shop this afternoon and my truck was in the way. Ray Anne Curry drove her dad’s pickup to Don’s shop where Don hooked my tow chain on and we pulled the truck out of his way.
Dr. John Beck, the veterinarian whose ranch the event was held at, had his daughter Laurie fix me up with a pillow and bedding for me to spend the night on their couch because the shooting was to resume in the morning. My plan was to lean my suburban seat back and sleep in the truck at the Beck ranch in order to save on that $2.85 gasoline, instead driving about 75 miles round trip. Dr. Beck approved my overnight in the truck plans earlier in the week.
Dwayne Bennett, executive director of the Boys & Girls Club in Victoria was going right by Ganado on his way home to Richmond tonight. Fearing my extra clothes, etc. would preclude my getting a ride back to my truck tomorrow riding home with Dwayne seemed the logical thing to do.
If my durned hip isn’t barking too loudly I might try hitchhiking back to the ranch tomorrow morning because I’d promised to volunteer again. These situations are usually interesting to see how the Lord blesses me while working things out. Johnnie High Jr., one of my former bosses, lives fairly close to where the suburban sits. He promised to pull me home tomorrow.