Four Wheel Drive Fiasco

Of the cars I've had, my Bronco had more stories than any other. Actually, my Bronco had more stories than any one car should be called to survive. It was a red and tan 1989 Bronco with close to 200,000 miles on it, and I loved it. Because of it's size and age, I didn't think it was possible for me to tear it up. The saying, "The bigger they are...," yea, there's a reason for that saying.

A few months after I got the Bronco, I decided it was time to test the four wheel drive, so I headed to a dirt road with my friend Ashley. Only the dirt road was neither wide, nor long, nor straight, all things that are helpful when you are unaccustomed to off-road driving. And we were going off road, like it or not.

But no worries right? I have four wheel drive. So we tear down the road at about45 mph before I realize how steep the curve ahead of me really is, or how muddy the road has become from recent rain, OR that either side of the road is surrounded by swamp. As I tried to make the curve, I overcorrected sending us flying toward swamp on the opposite side of the road. This continued for about a quarter of a mile before I regained control of the truck. Laughing at our luck, and more than a little relieved to be on asphalt, we headed home. But as we drove down Madison Hwy. people kept pointing and staring at us. We figured they must be laughing at the two young girls in the mud-covered vehicle, but looking back, that wouldn't be so unusual in South Georgia. No, they had other reasons to point.

As we pulled into the driveway at my mom's house, we watched as the reflection of the vehicle seemed to morph into a funhouse mirror. The passenger side slowly sank to the ground and the remaining air in the passenger side tires leaked out of the broken seals. Now flattened, there was no way to drive the Bronco for repairs before my mom got home. So, we played dumb. We claimed to have run off the road, but that we were unaware of hitting anything hard enough to cause that kind of damage. My grandfather suggested that someone may have stolen my car from the school parking lot and gone for a joyride-his story had more holes in it than mine. The naivete of my family only encouraged my stupidity. If they would believe this, I could get away with anything.