Stuck | Teen Ink

Stuck

November 3, 2016
By Iehaas, Clarkston, Michigan
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Iehaas, Clarkston, Michigan
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Author's note:

I wrote this piece to show my perspective and what i've learned from this experience.

Stuck
 


I felt the cold water seep into my boot with each step. I was riding my 4-wheeler up north in St.Helen, Michigan. I was riding a trail I’d never been on, in winter, alone. Smart, I know. Looking back now, I learned a lot about what I should do next time, if I ever get stuck.
It was a fun ride in the beginning, I had never been on this trail before, and new trails are usually fun. Usually. I was riding fast through the woods when I came to a clearing. The trail was wide and straight and fast. I slapped the clutch, shifted into 4th and sped down the trail, zooming past trees.I rounded the second corner when I spotted a rut in the middle of the trail, completely blocking my path. This was no issue, I thought. Thinking nothing of the rut, I downshifted into 3rd, gave some throttle and the front wheels of my 4-wheeler began to raise.
This wasn’t a normal rut. This was a river. This river was about 2 feet deep, 3 feet wide and filled with ice-cold water and mud. My 4-wheeler came to a halt as my back tires fell into the muddy-river. The frame crashed onto the lip of the river, and like that, I was stuck. Wedged on my frame with 2 wheels out of the river, and 2 wheels stuck in the muddy water. I kept giving it gas, hoping for the back wheels to connect with the ground and shoot out of the river. No chance. With each spin of the wheels, the 4-wheeler dug itself further and further into the cold, muddy, hard water. I was making the problem worse. I was in knee-deep water, trying to lift my 4-wheeler out of the river. My legs and hands were drenched with ice-cold water.
I went back and forth from rocking my 4-wheeler,trying to free it from the river, to taking my boots off and warming up my feet, trying to prevent frostbite. With each attempt to pull my 4-wheeler out of the rut, it fell deeper and deeper and sunk further and further into the mud. I had only made the problem worse. Now, standing in the
Luckily, I had my phone on me, but I couldn’t get cell-service to call for help. I was going to have to solve this problem, or walk the 15+ miles home to get help. It was getting late, the sun was setting, and it was getting colder. I started walking with my phone out, trying to get signal to call for help. I had to walk for nearly a mile before my phone finally got signal. I finally got ahold of my father, he picked up the phone and wanted to know where I was and if I was ok. I told him I was stuck in the woods, and didn’t know where I was. I told him the general direction I went from home, and he was on his way. While I waited for him to come, I started walking back towards the road I came from, hoping to find him searching for me.
I had been walking for nearly another mile in my cold, wet boots and pants, when I started to hear the groaning of an engine getting closer and closer. As soon as I turned the next corner I saw a set of headlights racing towards me. It was my father, he had found me.
I jumped onto the back of my fathers 4-wheeler and told him that I needed help pulling my 4-wheeler out. It was getting dark, and I was getting colder and colder. When we finally got back to where my 4-wheeler was, there was a crowd of headlights surrounding the river where my quad was stuck. We got close to my quad and a group of 10+ people were standing there waiting for us.


“ ‘Ey, is this your 4-wheeler?” One burly, tattooed man asked as we walked closer.
“Yeah, it’s mine.” I replied as I got to the river.
“I was going, and didn’t see the river” I told them, not wanting to admit I thought I could make it.
I felt very intimidated when my father and I walked up to the group of 10+ guys, all muddy and dressed for riding. I was scared that this group of guys were going to pull my 4-wheeler out and keep it for themselves. I was wrong. These guys ended up helping my father and I get the 4-wheeler out, we had to work as a team, and use the winch from both my fathers 4-wheeler and their 4-wheeler to pull my 4-wheeler out of the muddy river. These were some of the nicest guys i’ve ever met. They waited in the cold for more than 15 minutes to see if anyone was going to come back and get the quad, all because they wanted to help.
I realized then how often we as humans judge others based on how they look, instead of their character, and how wrong we can be. There was a group of intimidating, muddy, rough looking guys in the woods that turned out to be some of the nicest people i’ve ever met on the trail. That really opened my eyes to the kindness of others. I was so glad that these guys took time out of their ride to help someone they didn’t know. They wanted nothing in return, all they wanted to do was help us out.
Finally able to ride home, I now realized why my mom always pestered me about wearing warm clothes,
“What if you have to walk home?” she would invariably ask, as I dressed to get ready for a ride. I would always brush it off, wondering why she was so concerned with what I chose to wear. I was always warm, I thought, why would I want to wear more than I needed? I hadn’t accounted for getting soaking wet in single-digit temperatures.
Before this ride, I thought I was invincible. I’d broken down before and had to walk home, but it wasn’t even comparable to how much further from home I was, and how much colder it was. This experience completely changed my view of riding. I always wear a jacket and waterproof boots now, and I make sure to always have my phone on me. Looking back on it, this experience was dreadful, but I learned a lot from it. Now I understand why my mom always nags me about having on the proper gear, always keeping my phone on me. If I would’ve hurt myself, or if I didn’t have my phone on me, I wouldn’t be here writing this story.



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