Stuck in the Mud

He was hem hawing around, not sure if he wanted to go or not when my phone rang.

It was my Dad, asking if I wanted to come over to the East River in Navarre and take a look at a possible launch spot for a kayaking cache trail that was recently put out.

He’d picked up the Youngest Island Boy that morning, en route to my sister’s house and I was surprised they weren’t already there.

I told him I didn’t think so, that I was trying to get the Island King to head up near Rattlesnake Bluff, just south of Crestview to pick up a few caches.

Then he said “Well, do you know anyone with 4wd that can come pull me out of the mud hole I’m stuck in?”

What? He’s stuck?

This is priceless!!!

Needless to say, we grabbed some tow straps and off we went.

Following his directions, we turned off a main trail and onto a much smaller trail.

A trail full of mud puddles. Big puddles.

I told the Island King that I was shocked that Dad had come down this trail because he never takes these kinds of roads when I’m with him.

The Island King was shocked that Dad’s truck made it in as far as it did.

About a mile down the trail we round a curve and there they are.

Stuck.

Bwaahhaaaa!!!

I know it’s sad that a daughter would take so much pleasure in her father being stuck but I really did.

He said that he made it this far but the next hole looked questionable. So he stopped, gave the Youngest Island Boy his waders and told him to walk through the puddle and see how deep it was.

It was pretty deep so Dad decided to turn around, which is when he got stuck.

His back tire sunk into the mush and stayed.

He said he couldn’t find a solid, non rotten piece of wood anywhere, but he did find a sleeping bag and a broken blue box, which, according to the label used to contain a tow rope.

I wonder if that belong to the same person who owns the front bumper laying in the woods nearby.

Seems Dad isn’t the only one to get stuck in this spot.