Wednesday, August 26, 2020

Pre-Vacation Vacation, or, The Great Wrangler Fire of ‘20

 It is now the end of August, 2020.  I had intended to blog each day of my rather extended vacation, but that did not happen.  I ended up in Internet Nowhere for several days and did not blog then. But actually, my regularly scheduled three-day weekend prior to the beginning of my official vacation was much more exciting than anything that happened for the next fifteen days.

I drove from my headquarters, the Lazy H Ranch House,  in West Texas to my mother’s residence outside of Gatesville, so as to surprise her on her birthday.  Arriving on mid-morning Saturday, August 1st, I walked into her house and totally surprised her.  She looked at me like she was seeing a ghost, then chided me for surprising her, then hugged me because I had driven over three hundred miles to see her on her birthday.  Even when one is older and his mother is elderly, those motherly hugs are so great!

My mother is very elderly now, and I treasure these visits more and more as the days and weeks pass.  We talked about the family, the recent passing of her brother, our grandchildren, and all the memories of times gone by.  We had a simple lunch and talked a little longer, then she nodded off to sleep.  I told myself it was because she was tired, not because of the possibility that I could be boring company.   Then I sneaked into the kitchen and quietly washed the few dishes we had used during lunch, and mused to myself that this probably the first time I had done the dishes for my mom in over four DECADES!  Time has certainly flown by.  I recalled that the last time I had done dishes for her, it was under orders from Dad, who has been gone now for nearly thirty years.

After a fairly brief nap, Mom awoke and pretty much started the conversation exactly where we had been when she drifted away.  We talked a couple more hours, during which time Mom discovered that all the dishes were clean.  She playfully chided me for doing her work, but I enjoyed doing it for her.  I then decided to crank up my old Jeep Wrangler that I keep parked in her carport.  I had not driven this vehicle in over three months, and I was not sure if it would start at all.  But I was pleased when the engine turned over once slowly, then roared to life!  Jeep Wranglers are so dependable, and mine, a 1998 model, has well over two hundred thousand miles logged, mostly on the road, but a couple of hundred or more just circling through the Fiefdom, my little piece of heaven off the Levita Road.  Only “natives” of the area will know where that is.

So I climbed into the Jeep and headed for “town.”  I needed a tank of gas and a cool drink before I drove out to the Fiefdom for a little very mild four wheeling.  I stopped for fuel at a local convenience store but before buying fuel, I decided to buy a large bottle of water, then air up a low tire.  For this reason I parked on the side of the building close to the air pump and went inside.  

I was in the store about three or four minutes.  As I walked out, opening a two liter bottle of water, I rounded the corner of the building and saw smoke coming from some unseen vehicle on the other side of a really tall pickup.  I thought to myself, well, someone’s car is on fire.  Too bad for them.  But as I walked passed the huge Ford pickup, I saw that the smoke was coming from MY JEEP!  Not just smoke, but flames were billowing from UNDER my Jeep, JUST BELOW THE GAS TANK!  My first thought was I NEED A FIRE EXTINGUISHER!  My second thought was, I don’t have a fire extinguisher but I DO have two liters of water!

I ran immediately to the Jeep and began flinging the water as hard as I could onto the flames pouring out from the bottom of my beloved Wrangler!  It was then that I had my THIRD thought: If flames are pouring out from the fuel tank, I may be in 1) a slightly dangerous situation, and 2) my Jeep was doomed. At this point people were watching me as if I were the show, and I noticed that no one was using his or her cell phone to summon aid.  In fact a couple of folks seemed to be getting somewhat of a laugh at my predicament!  

As my panic faded to resignation to the loss of a longtime family member, I recalled that I was wearing a cell phone myself.  So I urgently dialed 9-1-1....that is, I TRIED to urgently dial 9-1-1.  My cell phone has a badly fractured screen which I have never bothered to replace because, well, the phone continued to work.  That is until this very critical moment that I really needed to get the fire department...fast!   

I futilely tapped the screen several times but the stupid phone would not unlock!  Unreal!, I thought.  Just as I was about to fling the phone, the screen came alive, and I dialed 9-1-1.  The nice lady on the other end said, “What is your emergency?”  She sounded so bored, and my Jeep was doomed!  But in my best faked calm voice, I told her....MY JEEP IS BURNING DOWN AT THE CEFCO ON THE HILLTOP!  This lady, apparently a native, knew exactly where this was.  She did not even ask the street address but calmly assured me that the fire department was on the way.

With flames still pouring from the fuel tank, I realized that if the Jeep exploded, several cars parked nearby would be damaged, as well as the store itself.  I bravely climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the key.  Incredibly the Jeep started, and I drove it to the kaliche parking behind the store where the semi rigs park.  There was a big empty spot here, and when the Jeep finally blew, it would be the only casualty, other than me, if I were not  able to bail before the impending explosion.

It was at this point that I had my sixth or seventh thought (I had lost by now) that the burning “fuel” sure smelled like, well, burning weeds.  I was still pondering this when a gentleman driving a large pickup parked fairly close to the Jeep.  He was not in turnout gear but he was holding a radio and I knew he was the first firefighter on the scene.  As he ran over, he was broadcasting over the radio to other firefighters, and I could hear the faint sound of a distant siren.  Just then a second firefighter ran around the corner.  She was not in turnout gear, either, and told me she had been pumping gas into her own car when the fire alarm sounded on her radio.  

Did I mention that as yet the Jeep had not exploded?  In fact, the flames were actually receding!  This was a strange way for fire to act, I thought.

Just as a small brushfire unit rolled onto the parking lot, the first firefighter got a long crowbar out of his pickup bed and began poking at the flames that were still burning directly under the fuel tank.  When he did this, something fully engulfed in flames fell out of the back end of the Jeep.  At this point the men on the fire truck had run a hose under the Jeep and handed it to the firefighter with the crowbar.  He turned on the water works and blasted the bottom of the fuel tank.  Within seconds the fire was out and the Jeep was saved.

Not only was the Jeep “saved” but there seemed to be no fire damage whatever, not even blistered paint.  Now I am not a fireman, but even I realized that something weird had happened.  Then I noticed that the firefighters and a local police officer were examining a pile of still smoldering, weird-looking material.  I walked over and saw that the material was a huge (or at least huge BEFORE the fire) mass of very packed, and apparently woven, weeds and grass.  Like I mentioned, I am not a firefighter, but I realized that this burning mass of weedy substance was probably the source of the blaze.

The firefighters at the scene confirmed that the firmly packed, tightly woven weeds were indeed the source of the blaze.  They asked me how many hours I had been four-wheeling that day, and I told them “Zero!”  I had driven directly from Mom’s house to the store.  They all shook their heads and packed up the hose.  I thanked them profusely for saving my Jeep.  

Before leaving, several of the firemen and the lone police officer examined the Jeep from top to bottom.  There was absolutely NO fire damage anywhere!  They couldn’t believe it, but all of them shook my hand and told me how great my 1998 Jeep Wrangler looked, even though it had over two hundred thousand miles and had lately survived a fire. 

I ran a couple of errands and bought some dinner for Mom and I, and that was the end of the adventure. Well, not exactly...

Remember one of the reasons I had driven to the store in the first place?  I needed air in one of my tires.  I had aired up the tire after the fire was put out.  This tire was the tire that was exposed to the most of the fire.  I was headed back to Mom’s, enjoying the cool of the evening with all windows out of the Jeep, reveling in my good fortune that the Jeep had been saved from the fire, when BAMN!!!  The Jeep heeled hard to the right.  I let the vehicle slow on its own and pulled off the road.  The tire I had just aired up had exploded, blowing out the entire sidewall.

Well, I was still in a good mood, so even the prospect of changing a blowout did not dampen my spirits.  That is until I found that all of the lugs on that particular tire were on so tight that not even my great efforts and all the banging on the lug nuts did not even budge the last two.  What a situation!  I was about nine miles from Mom’s, the food was not getting any hotter, and I could not put the spare tire on, because I could not get the ruined tire off the rim.  Another phone call on my battered phone and my brother arrived with a bigger lug wrench, a pipe, and some WD-40.  Even then, it took (his) superhuman effort to loosen that last nut.  But minutes later the spare was on and I was on my way back to Mom’s.  What a night.  And it was only 7 PM.

I spent the remainder of the evening with Mom, again talking about family and the good times.  Finally both of us were tired and retired for the evening.  Sunday morning I took Mom to the little church where she once worshipped regularly, but now is able only to go occasionally when she feels up to leaving the house.  Afterwards Mom and I were supposed to join my sister-in-law for dinner, but Mom was tired from the effort of attending church services once again.  I had lunch with my sister-in-law and her family, then returned to Mom’s for a couple more hours of visiting.  Then finally a hug, and I was out the door and gone, with Coryell County fading fast in the rear view mirror.  

All of this and I was not really even on vacation yet.  Spoiler alert:  My actual vacation was so mundane and peaceful that it may not actually rate a blog, even though I was off work for over twenty days.  Oh yes, as for the fire that nearly burned down my beloved Jeep, I found similar weedy material in the carport at my Mom’s house.  From this material, I pieced together the following theory: An animal, possibly a raccoon, an opossum, or even a rat, had built a huge nest, possibly housing more than one “family,” between the skid plate and the fuel tank.  This nest, made of densely packed, tightly woven weeds and grass, had heated up to the ignition point while I was driving the ten miles or so from Mom’s to the store on the “Hilltop.”  It was already burning when I parked at the store, and was fully aflame when I walked out the store with my two liter bottle of water.  Interestingly, I have rarely ever bought a two liter bottle of water.  I am not sure why I bought it that day, but it turned out I needed it.

That was quite a weekend.  Here is a BIG SHOUT-OUT to the men and women of the Gatesville Volunteer Fire Department and the officer from the Gatesville Police Department.  Thank you all for saving my Wrangler, and thank all of you folks for reading my blog.

May God Bless America!



   


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