-
Posts
-
-
I gaze out the windshield at the fall colors during my drive to Tanasi, thinking to myself "Self, it’s going to be a really gorgeous ride today!" and smile in anticipation. I’ve been waiting for this ride. The rides before the colors pop just makes you feel like you’re there on the wrong day and the rides after make you feel like a cast member of "The Corpse Bride". Every year, I manage to miss the magic day, and this year almost ended the same way, but although I’m getting a late start, I’ve managed to shirk my responsibilities, throw some new brake pads on, toss the bike into the back of the truck and point myself toward Tennessee. This year, I’m going to ride some singletrack in the midst of the most vibrant fall colors that nature has to offer and nothing can stop me.
(Narrator’s note: be sure to make note of that bold part)
As I begin crossing the bridge right before the trailhead parking lot, my phone chirps, notifying me of a text message. As I pull in, I see it’s my lovely wife. I try my hand at responding while I get my pack ready.
Chirp!
"Where are you?"(Me as I try to take off my Levi’s one-handed)
"I’m going to try to go for a-"Chirp!
"Do you want chili tonight before trick or treating?"(Me as I try to get my shirt over my head)
"Sure, that’s fi-"Chirp!
"Did you buy something today on Amazon for $39.83?"(Me as I try to find where my left shoe went)
"I did, I picked up a-"Chirp!
"Hello?"(Me, finding it completely impossible to buckle a helmet one-handed)
"I’m trying to answer, but you-"The phone begins to ring.
In spite of the fact that this is how my wife has chosen to deal with discussion at a distance since the advent of the technology, it still manages to fluster me. I don’t care which it is, but you should just pick a technology and stick with it. Text? Awesome. Voice? Even more awesome-er. But she refuses, combining all methods of social connectivity in her arsenal in what I suspect is a passive-aggressive attempt to slowly drive me out of my mind. Either that, or she’s hoping I stroke out and keel over in the woods so she can claim all those freebie life insurance policies she’s been having me sign since we married.
As I apologize for not being dexterous enough, I’m throwing things into my pack. Time is slipping away and I’m already going to have to cut an hour off of my ride to get home in time to shower and be ready. I’m deflating my patched tube, throwing my clothes into the truck, putting the pump away, zipping my wallet into one part of my pack and zipping my keys into another pouch on the pack. As my conversation with my wife draws to a close, I punch the door lock button and hang up the phone, tossing it into the top of the pack and zipping it up. "Hurry!" I think to myself, "You’re not going to get much riding at all as it is!". I slam the door to the truck and see my reflection in the window. Although I can’t quite place it yet, I know something is wrong. I stand there a few seconds longer. Eventually, through my reflection, I spot my pack, with all pouches securely zipped, sitting on my passenger seat. It takes a moment longer for it to dawn on me that I just locked my keys in my truck. I quickly take stock of the situation. Keys? In my pack… which is locked in my truck. Wallet? In my pack… which is locked in my truck. Cell phone? In my pack… which is locked in my truck.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. No person in their right mind would ever own a vehicle without a spare key and I am no exception. I don’t keep it in a magnetic box stuck to my truck, however. No, that’s just stupid and asking for someone to steal your vehicle. No, I, in my superior train of thought figured out the perfect place to keep it. Put it in something I always have on me and am never without. Where would that be?
My wallet.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I keep my spare key in my wallet. The same wallet that is in my pack… which is locked in my truck.
I try the rear window and am shocked to find how securely FoMoCo designed it. Top notch, in my humble opinion. I crawl on the ground looking for a Hide-A-Key that a previous owner might have left but didn’t find one, so I assume that he’s as smart as I am, keeping his spare keys in his wallet. I go back to the rear window and ponder some thoughts as I stare at it.
"How much does a rear window cost?"
"If I force myself to throw up and then dislocate both of my shoulders, I bet I could squeeze myself through that rear window."
"I wonder if a side rear window is cheaper than this window?"
"I bet that window would cost less than a visit from the locksmith."
In the end however, I can’t bring myself to break anything on the truck. I’m just too cheap. Ok, what’s the plan then? I’ve got my clothes and I’ve got my bicycle. Alright, I’ll ride toward the nearest town and just call my wife. She can come pick me up. It’s only about 3 miles away. How bad can three miles of pavement be? I begin pedaling. As I’m crossing the bridge, I see a tractor trailer crest the hill and start coming down the hill towards me. Immediately I see him veer onto the rumble strip and then pull back into his lane. "Oh man, this is it. I haven’t even made it 100 yards and I’m going to get creamed by a truck carrying 1,000 gallons of soymilk derived from free range tofurkeys. I look over the edge of the bridge to see a 50 foot drop to the ground. I decide to take my chances with the soymilk. He touches the rumblestrip again. I begin to prepare mentally for the force of the impact, trying to figure out how I’ll hit the truck. I’m thinking spread-eagle in an effort to displace the force across as much area as possible. As I’m trying to decide the pros and cons between closed-fists or open palms, the truck passes and I’m still alive. I decide not to push my luck any farther than I have to. I’m going to pedal my little ass off to get to the town, make my call and sit there until someone picks me up. If I make it, I promise, no more road for me!
You know, three things I hadn’t thought much about in the last decade or so are collect calls, pay phones and phone books. It seems while I wasn’t looking, all three were phased out. At the four places I stopped at, none would let me make a collect call. I finally found a payphone at a gas station. Dialing 1-800-collect, I punch in my wife’s number. "We are sorry, that phone number is not capable of accepting collect calls". Ok, I’ll try my home number and get my mom-in-law to accept the call, then call my wife for me. Hey, you know what else can’t accept collect calls? VOIP phones! Even if I could find a phone book(which I can’t), I couldn’t call a locksmith because I don’t have any money to make a call.
I begin doing some quick math. It takes me 40 minutes to get from my house to the trailhead. It’s mostly 4 lane with a little back road thrown in and the speed limit in NC is 55 while in Tennessee, it’s 65. Carry the 1, subtract by the day of the week and divide by zero and I decide that I’ve got 30 miles between me and my house. Well, I did want to go for a ride.
30 miles, two more rumble strip surprises, a lot of tire carcasses, three chasing dogs and one biting one later and I made it to my home, no worse for the wear. While I wait for my wife to come home, I gather some wire coat hangers and cut some wedges from wood so I can break into my own car.
In closing, I would like to say that if you take anything from this tale of caution, it should be the following:
If you ever see my Ford F-150 at a trailhead, you can easily steal it because from now on, it will have a Hide-A-Key stuck to it somewhere.
-
Nice story, Shwim! 😃 Too bad you rode pavement instead of singletrack. I carry a spare key in the wallet too – don’t like the idea of loosing it somewhere. Why didn’t you call police? They normally have tools to open a car and do it for free.
-
Sorry for your misfortune, but it made for a very entertaining story. Thanks for sharing.
-
Schim I laughed my ass of reading this 😆 Some things ( and rides) are just not meant to be. I think you have a future in journalism by the way well written. YOU HERE THAT JEFF! New column for Schimm. Oh yea and phone calls always come at the worst possible time!
-
I’ve locked my keys in my vehicle more times than i care to admit 😳 but thankfully, it’s been a while since the last incident!
-
Great story, well told! But hey, next time you can just ride to Tanasi now that you know it’s possible. 😀
So you still had to break into your car in the end? I’m guessing that means your wife didn’t have a key to your car and there wasn’t another spare at home…
I locked my keys in my car at Tsali once. Had the campground host break in using a wire coat hanger.
-
Great story. I did the same thing but in the back of the truck. I did have my cell phone called the wife. Fortunately for me a guy pulled up that had a collection of hangers that worked quite well. I had my dought that my wife would be able to even find me. If it was the mall it would be no problem.
-
Good story and nice job telling it Schwimm
My good one was locking the keys in my running Mustang on a -10 degree day, with the car running and on absolute fumes. Was in a hurry to get to the gas station before it died. Thank goodness for AAA!
-
Thanks a bunch for the comments, guys. I thought it would be humorous to most because we’ve all been there at one time or another. I haven’t done it yet, but I plan to get about 11 spare keys made and place them in various locations. Locked my keys in my car at Lowe’s? No problem, I hid one in aisle 68, right beside the compound miter saws.
-
I could leave my doors unlocked with the keys in it and a thief would leave a note saying "No thanks" and may even leave a few bucks t help me buy something newer.
-
Well, I doubt anyone would want my truck, but it is my designated "responsible adult’s vehicle" that the war dep’t. dictated that I must have. The vehicle I’d rather be driving is my VW, which…. well… it’s kinda….. well, here it is as of two weeks ago:
Last week:
and yesterday:
So at this rate, I should have nothing larger than a steering wheel to hold as I run around the yard making engine noises.
-
I love riding in the fall. The cool weather, leaves changing colors the smell of the air. At the same time I can’t stand starting off early in the morning when it is cold knowing it is going to wam up and shedding clothes will happen on a long ride and the necessity to haul the clothes that come off the body. Yesterday I was not feeling well. I had a 99.5 degree temparature and I was congested. I felt better than the day before so I decided my health was heading in the right direction. I signed up for the Strava 5,000 meter challenge and I needed to get some elevation in on Saturday so I decided to ride. Yes I am going somewhere with this post and it is on Schwim’s for a reason.
I started at 30 degrees with a long sleeve Endura Jersey, a North Face Windwall Jacket (WARM and semi-bulky) and a bright yellow/green riding jacket (Bear Hunting Season). I planned on over 4,000 feet of climbing and 30 miles. After the first hour I was dripping and decided to shed my riding jacket and did not want to carry it 8 miles up the mountain to Wayah Bald. I knew it would be cold going up from 3,000 feet to almost 5,400 but I had the North Face on and no hunters around. I hung the riding jacket on a tree. I made it up to Wayah Bald where it was cold and windy and took the same route back. Eight miles downhill, cold and windy but the sun was coming out and I was feeling suprisingly good when I got back to the bottom. I turned onto the road where I left my jacket at about 20 mph and kept going. I started climbing again and about four miles from my truck said, "darn I forgot my jacket". No problem I say I will just drive back to get it. I get back to my truck, hop off of the bike, take off my helmet reach into the North Face Jacket and realize my key is in my riding Jacket 7.5 miles away where I left it which would mean and additional 15 miles and 2,200 feet of climbing. I think of Schwim. Has he cursed me? 😼 So I think about it and decide to take a possitive attitude. I am going to ride back. I won’t call the wife to bring a spare key. I was feeling better healthwise than when I started. Sure I can also use the additional elevation for the Strava Challenge. I laugh, open my Camelbak for a Peanut Granola Bar and smile some more. I found the other key to my truck that I lost a month earlier in the Camelbak! You see the Bike Gods were looking down on me for my possitive attitude. I thought of Scwimm again and the laughes I got from his post and thought a bit. Should I take the ride in memory of him? Nope I decide. I drove to my jacket and key in a nice a warm truck. That’s my key story.
-
Great tale Schwim. A couple of years ago I went for a post work ride. Starting the climb I felt so light and carefree. So light because my camelback was not on me. Realizing my mistake I roll back to the truck. There it is sitting in the seat -with my keys and cellphone inside. Ah, one of the back windows is unlocked. I squeeze my arm in barely trying to Houdini my way to a front door lock. Just a little bit further – and crash, the sound of my side window shattering into a gazzilion pieces. The parking lot was full of soccer Moms observing my skills at grand theft auto, none of which offered to lend me a cell phone -and me too embarrassed to ask. 😆
-
Excellent story schwim. We’ve all been in that situation one time or another at various times. I truly enjoyed the read. You have a way with the written word. I can only imagine how articulate you are with the spoken word.
Thanks for sharing. I got a good laugh out of it.
-
"MTI" wrote
I thought of Scwimm again and the laughes I got from his post and thought a bit. Should I take the ride in memory of him? Nope I decide. I drove to my jacket and key in a nice a warm truck.
-
"CraigCreekRider" wrote
Great tale Schwim. A couple of years ago I went for a post work ride. Starting the climb I felt so light and carefree. So light because my camelback was not on me. Realizing my mistake I roll back to the truck. There it is sitting in the seat -with my keys and cellphone inside. Ah, one of the back windows is unlocked. I squeeze my arm in barely trying to Houdini my way to a front door lock. Just a little bit further – and crash, the sound of my side window shattering into a gazzilion pieces. The parking lot was full of soccer Moms observing my skills at grand theft auto, none of which offered to lend me a cell phone -and me too embarrassed to ask. 😆
I came very close to duplicating the rear window explosion. I figured I wouldn’t be able to replace it right away and didn’t want to drive around during the winter sans a sealed compartment 😀
"ScribbleJ" wroteExcellent story schwim. We’ve all been in that situation one time or another at various times. I truly enjoyed the read. You have a way with the written word. I can only imagine how articulate you are with the spoken word.
Thanks for sharing. I got a good laugh out of it.
I’m very glad you enjoyed it, scribble. It’s been a very long time since I’ve written something for public consumption. I’m glad it didn’t turn out as badly as it seemed in my head 😀
-
You must be logged in to reply to this topic.