About a month ago, Spenser and I (my consort, “special friend”, “honey”) got stuck.
He, super excited to take a drive in his newly-acquired truck – and I, always up for an adventure – enthusiastically set off down the Nome-Council Road.
It was a beautiful day, with blue skies stretched before us and the sun shining brightly overhead. After about ten miles or so, we wanted to get closer to shore, and so, we took a turn off to what looked like a quarry (at least to me). When faced with the road less traveled by, we wholeheartedly took it, thinking we were invincible (or maybe that was just me).
But then, as we reached the top of the hill, our fun came to a grinding halt. With wheels slipping and mud like a sucking sand pit, we were stuck.
“No, we’re not stuck… we’re fine.”
“Oh, is that what we are?”
“Yep. We got this.”
… but we didn’t.
After attempts at calls/texts to a few friends for help – still thinking all the while, however, that we could get out ourselves – we took a little stroll on the beach to pass the time. The ice had blown out, and the water looked the exact color of the sky. I don’t think it could have been more picturesque.
We realized during our walk that we didn’t get cellular service so far away from the road, so we headed back in the hopes that someone had answered our calls. Between touchy service and those we could get in contact with being unable to help, we were left to fend for ourselves. With a couple of shovels in-hand, our self-rescue attempts went something like this:
Dig, drive, reverse, push, stop. Dig, push, drive, reverse, stop. Dig, drive, push, reverse, stop. Dig, reverse, drive… stop? One shovel down, another practically useless… how about a rake? – that was my bright idea. After about an hour, we were sadly incapable of extracting the vehicle, and so, we accepted our predicament and awaited help from the graces.
We were a little ways from the road, but it was still within sight. We’d wave at trucks that would pass every so often, but none stopped. I was incredibly thankful it was a nice day with just a light cool breeze, and I seized this opportunity to lay out and get my Alaskan tan on.
After what seemed like hours (it was, in fact, three), still stuck, we watch a truck slow, turn down the rugged road we did, and come closer.
“You need help?”
“Yeah, that’d be great!”
Yippee – we’re saved! After a little maneuvering and tugging, we were safely out of the muck and on our way back to town.
“Thanks so much. We really appreciate it. I hope one day, I can do the same for you.”
“No problem. And I hope you don’t.” (laughs)
Welp, that was quite the story indeed. So we got stuck, and someone helped us out… happens all the time, right? Truth. But there was a moral behind this I was trying to highlight, which I shall do righttttt now:
Sometimes, you get stuck. For one reason or another, friends can’t help you, family can’t help you, people on the street won’t always help you. But there’s always that one. The one that does help you out. The one that stops what they’re doing to save the day. The world is a better place because those people exist.
This couple could have driven on by like the rest, but they didn’t. They, along with their three dogs all in the cab of their truck, sacrificed their time and the chance they might also get stuck to help us. We can’t blame those that didn’t come to our aid either, though. Maybe our messages didn’t go through, or they had their own things to deal with. Maybe the passersby didn’t see us, had more pressing matters to attend to, or didn’t realize we were stuck.
Moral: Don’t be afraid to go on adventures. Don’t be afraid to get stuck. That’s what adventuring is all about (literally and figuratively)! Just make sure to help out fellow stuck friends (when you can), so you have good karma for when you’re stuck.