Oh the joys of winter...
and ice storms.
My poor little red ranger is no more. Wednesday evening, heading home from work, I crashed my baby. It was quite a ride. I was only going 30, but let me tell you, I wouldn't have wanted to wreck going any faster than that.
I am ok. But my truck is not. When the sliding and turning was all said and done and the eerie quiet after a crash had taken hold, I was on my side...on the driver's side. My seatbelt did a fantastic job of holding me in place. I quickly looked for an escape route. The back window being too small, I turned the key to accessory and lowered the passenger side window and began my climb out. I'm no longer afraid of the walls I am going to have to climb over at the warrior dash, because I did a pretty kickass job of getting my butt out of the truck while it was on it's side.
My phone, which I searched frantically for inside the truck was resting in the snow outside the truck. I called 911 and began my wait.
40 minutes later a local city cop stopped by so I could warm myself in his car. 10 minutes later the statey finally made it. Of course, he was on the other side of the county. Lucky me.
Everyone was wonderful and so nice. I couldn't have asked for better help from better men.
Kevin was pretty disappointed and finally, last night, a day after the accident he gave me the comforting hug that I needed that night but never got.
I won't lie, I was pretty shook up and a wee bit nervous about driving this morning...but I managed.
My body feels like I played contact football with no pads, but I'm really lucky that I wasn't seriously injured.
My truck though, may not be so lucky.
I will find out soon...