Operation golf cart went a lot more smoothly
than I'd thought it would yesterday. Until, that is, we reached
the ford.
Mark gave a push and I hopped in to steer as the golf cart rolled down
the steep side of the ford. Then he rushed around across the
footbridge to pull it up the other side.
We only made it halfway up the other side of the ford before we gave
up. Mark was pulling with all his might and I was pushing with
all of mine, but the cart wouldn't budge. So we drove my little
blue Festiva down across snowy, ungravelled ground to try to pull it
out.
But the Festiva spun as it tried to yank the golf cart up the
hill. It was looking like we'd have to walk back to the trailer
and get the comealong and try to winch the cart up the hill. Then
I had an idea. I got in the Festiva and backed it up a couple of
feet while Mark maintained the tension on the tow strap connecting the
two vehicles. Then I shot forward, gaining a bit of momentum
before the tow strap went taut.
Zip! The car went forward, the golf cart followed it...and then I
spun out of control and the car ended up perpendicular to the
driveway. Mark had to switch places me with and level that out,
and though we made it that way to the bottom of the big hill beneath
the car park, we had to unhook the Festiva there and drive it up the
hill alone. It was only 3:15 pm, but we knew we had to cut some
wood, take in the eggs, and walk the dog before dark. Sure was
fun, though.