September 04, 2002

Trash Run: A Puppydog Tale

After a long weekend full of house guests, the time had come to make a Trash Run. I knew this was true because I could no longer contain our combined household effluvium in the back of the Dodge Dakota Trashwagon unless I put up side-rails, like those my neighbors have on their pickemups when they give calves a ride home from market.

For me, the trash run is an greivous and unavoidable necessity of country living: nobody's gonna come get it, and we haven't sunk so low as to just pitch it down the side of the hill off the front porch (gravity-assisted trash disposal. Very popular in some areas). So once or twice a week, we give the garbage a ride to the greenboxes located up on the nearest hardtop road. For Buster, this is his raison d'etre. Other than his occasional ride to Puppy Camp when we have to be away from home for a few days, the "run" is his supreme vehicular experience, and must be something that haunts his puppy dreams...when he lies asleep, feet twitching rhythmically and wimpering...he is surely dreaming of the Trash Run.

It is a mile and seven tenths of dirt road to the dumpsters on our unique pigpath of a road. Suffice it to say that July was an interesting month regarding this stretch of road in that there were three vehicles to slide off the road into the creek below, all within 100 yards of each other. Two of these were logging trucks where Jack Daniels was the co-pilot, and they happened in the middle of the night. The third was an idiot woman who 'backed up to get a peacock' that was wandering down the road, up on this steepest part of this tiny road. She ended up with her outer two wheels suspended in mid-air over the creek with the car resting on its undercarriage, leaning precariously, and sliding slowly toward the creek, 15 feet below. This was during the day, and she sent her 10 yr-old son wandering down the road to find help. That would be me and our son, Nathan. This idiot lady wanted to put her small son behind the wheel to "steer" while we pushed her 1500 pound car up off the frame and back onto its wheels. Yeah, right. I called a wrecker and should have called child protective services. Moron! But she did get the neighbor's peacock crammed into her back seat before being towed away.

So, you get the idea of what kind of road we live on: a "state maintained single lane road without turnouts". Which being interpreted is to say, you meet somebody coming the opposite way 1) hope it is not on any of the 9 blind curves twixt the house and the hardtop, and 2) somebody is going to do a lot of fancy driving in reverse. And I always hope it is the other guy.

So, me and Buster are heading slowly around the curves and climbing up out of the creek valley ever closer to the Glorious Dumpsters. Oh he is so proud, sitting there akimbo with one haunch on the pull-down arm rest between me and him, with his great black chest thrust proudly forward like the captain of a great masted ship...a Dog of Adventure. The best part of vehicle travel for Buster is the Life of the Nose: taking in all those combined country smells that funnel into the vents and come out into the cab of the truck through the blowing Slotted Sniffers on the dash. It must be a mind-numbing experience for a dog. It is not quite as orgasmic an experience for the driver as the dog huffs his wet nose repeatedly into the blowing vent, which then ejects this canine wetness back onto said drivers bare legs and arms. It is, however, somewhat cooling and refreshing.

And so, we were almost to the top (I didn't mention that this road also climbs about 400 feet in 1.7 miles), making our last blind turn. And all at once filling our view was a large, boxy and colorful refrigerated truck, coming down this miniscule and tortuous wagon path...a large truck full of popsicles, driven by a terror-stricken middle-aged woman. A very, very wrong turn, obviously. But since we both had to slow to a crawl anyway to nudge past each other without exchanging paint, and since our windows were down anyway, I thought I'd be neighborly.

I said "I'll have a Dreamsicle, and my dog here, he'll have a Nutty Bar."

The lady-driver nervously half-feigned a smile and muttered something I didn't understand. I am certain that she was rolling up her windows and locking her doors as she and her truck edged slowly past me, inextricably headed deeper into this god-forsaken holler. Oh, she rues the day she took this shortcut, I can tell you!

We did our dirtywork, me and Buster, and unloaded the entire back of the Dakota full of empty milk cartons and cans of old dried paint from upstairs, and various discards that won't be going back to college with Nate anymore, now that he has finally, at long last, graduated. And then we made our way slowly back down the beautiful long and winding road through the White Pine and Rhododendrons, to the house.

Then, as is our custom, I got out of the truck, but Buster, he stayed behind. I fully expected this. He has remained in the truck alone for as long as two hours, with the truck door wide open, sitting there at the Helm, a Dog of Destiny, a proud traveller in his small but odiferous world. Meanwhile, I have some serious blogging to do, as readers from the world over will want to know about this bit of excitement from the remote and dangerous reaches of Goose Creek.

Posted by fred1st at September 4, 2002 07:35 PM | TrackBack

I really can't read this combination of colours - it's coming out as pale blue on beige and there's no contrast. Don't know whether my browesr is making a difference, I'm using Opera (not by choice, I'm at work!)

Posted by: Muppet at September 5, 2002 05:00 AM

I'm about to bail on this light on dark stylesheet. I have all of 5 'built-in' choices offered by MT, and am not competent to get under the hood and mess around. Am seeking help from those who know way more than I do. Thanks for feedback, Muppet. Your view of this is way different from mine, and I am about to decide that nothing I do will work for all....just too much diversity among browsers, OS, monitors...but will keep working on it.

Posted by: fredf at September 5, 2002 05:20 AM

Oh well, if it's like that then don't worry on my account! I have a perfectly good copy of IE installed at home which I can read your page with :)

Nice photos :D, BTW

Posted by: Muppet at September 5, 2002 07:48 AM

Oh well, if it's like that then don't worry on my account! I have a perfectly good copy of IE installed at home which I can read your page with :)

Nice photos :D, BTW

Posted by: Muppet at September 5, 2002 07:48 AM

I agree with the author.

Posted by: postal code at July 24, 2003 09:44 AM

What a nice blog.

Posted by: whois at August 22, 2003 10:09 PM

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