Southwest Sierra #126 – Mud Holes, Continued

Last week, I contacted Aunt Ingrid to get the year and model of her Pontiac. She shared more than that: “I ordered it brand new from the factory and named her Isadora Wing. I drove her to Alleghany [when she moved there] in 1976. I drove off-road many times and tore holes in the oil pan. Your dad was always repairing her for me. One time, near Grass Valley, I bottomed out and tore the exhaust system off. I came back the next day and put it in my trunk and drove home. [Ingrid moved from Alleghany to Pike and then to Nevada City]. My close friend Joey Glick was the auto body instructor in Marysville. He asked me if he could take her and have his students repair and modify her for the Demolition Derby.” Isadora Wing was in the demolition derby at the Nevada County Fair in the 1980s.

Now back to the mud holes mentioned last week. The second “major mud hole” was featured in Southwest Sierra #11. That mud hole was on Pliocene Ridge Road, just east of the intersection with Hell’s Half Acre Rd. Gary Arnold’s VW Bus remains entombed there under the pavement.

There is a third mud hole that I need to mention. This mud hole was near the Golden Bear Bunkhouse on a little shortcut to the main road. The shortcut was an optional route, and we didn’t use it once it got wet. One spring day, Dad gave my brother, 12-year-old Steven, permission to drive around on the John Deere. He told him to: “Stay away from the mudhole.” The photo this week shows how well Steven obeyed.

Steven recently shared the following about that day: “If I had immediately stopped once I got into the hole, it would have been better, but I was terrified to tell Dad what I’d done. The more I tried to get out, the further the John Deer sank. Finally, I realized that I had to go tell Dad what happened. To my surprise, he didn’t chew me out or punish me! Dad got the D-8 (a much larger tractor with rubber tires) and pulled the John Deere out.” Probably Dad saw how upset Steven already was and figured that he’d learned his lesson. Funny (and sometimes sad) how we all learn best by experience.