stuck in mud

Driving home from Oklahoma last night, I hit traffic just as darkness settled full on. Waze showed 3 wrecks, complete with cops, slow downs and traffic jams along the two lane highway. For. Miles. The screen looked a kid's sticker book attacked by a pack 6 yr. olds hyped on artificial sweeteners.

Then it showed an alternate route from the highway double-backing along country roads leading around the massive mash-up of cars. Cutting out of line, James' wheels tore through a gravel service road, leaving a trail of dust for the off-roading 4 wheeling trucks to follow.

Except the winding country road was a driveway. And the road connecting back to the highway was a yard. Over a septic tank. Where James' front wheels got stuck. 

The cherry on the top? A friend of mine had ridden up and back with me, which means I can't deny this happened. Yeah. No joke.

We sat in James, contemplating options for a few minutes. I tried going forward. Didn't happen. Tried going back - also a great big negatory. I tried easing out of the hole the front driver side wheel had formed. The tire spun until grass thickly splattered onto the windshield.

That's when I called roadside assistance. The woman I spoke with couldn't find the highway we had just left. She asked if there were numbers on the houses. Which were dark and had barking dogs. Then she asked if I could see any road signs. I started twitching.

Once she figured out I really did know what highway I'd turned off of, and that the highway (gasp) actually existed in the town I said it did, she connected me with the tow truck guy. I flipped on my hazards (which irritated the dogs) and the heat (which kept me from getting cranky..er). 

Then we had nothing to do but wait. Quin started playing sudoku on his phone. I thought.

I thought about not ever being stuck before; and about how it is entirely different than being stuck in traffic. About what else I could be doing with the time, and how being stuck in a car on a dark road, waiting for someone else to come pull me out was unexpectedly freeing.

There was literally nothing I could do to change my circumstances. I love me some James, but he is a car - a beautiful curved, couple ton collection of metal, rubber and computer bits. And I'm no Bruce Banner. (I'm even less the Other Guy.)

I had done what I could to work the problem, to get James, Quin, and me back on the road for home.  I did what I could, when I could, and that was all I could do. It's all anyone could do.

So although it looked like I was stuck in the mud, filling time between doses of activity or busyness, in a quiet night full of flashing lights, stalled traffic, and barking dogs, caught between where I wanted to be and where I was, I was free. And right where I needed to be.