In the morning light, things didn't look so good. When the initial fog of the night's sleep had been rolled back by the second cup of coffee, I realized I had a major problem. My dear truck was exposed and vulnerable to anyone who wanted to abuse it. Not to mention that I felt castrated by the combination of my carelessness and lack of my only means of transportation.

At this time the truck, though mine and paid for in cash, was insured through the insurance company used by Holly's mom Betty. More specifically, the truck was on Betty's policy. The reason was that Holly had determined that we could get a better rate as a dependent than a 24 year old, single male. Now that's a surprise!. More on this later. I decided that the very first thing I must do is call the insurance company, which I did. The agent was very helpful and sympathetic. First, he wanted to know if anyone was injured. When I replied "No", the immediately got less interested and stated that he had a long list of "non-injury" cases to work on and mine would have to "go in the queue". I told him that I was concerned that the truck, currently supported by the lone mesquite tree that saved our lives, might get tired and give way resulting in a total loss. "Tough", if it happens, it happens. He asked me what I proposed to do to rectify the situation. I said without hesitation "get a 4WD wrecker, roll the truck on it's wheels and drive it home". I explained about the slow speed roll not doing any damage of consequence and that all I really needed was to right the vehicle. He stated that some would be calling me once my case came to the front of the queue.

Recognizing that I was low on the insurance company's list of priorities and being a pro-active kinda guy, I decided to take matters in my own hands. So, I called my best friend from Mines, Gary Lubers and explained my predicament. I figured that since Gary had a CJ-5 Jeep, the road would be no sweat. We could be in and out in a couple of hours. I had, in my haste to plan a solution, failed to consider that Gary had a job as a Metallurgist at a copper mine south of town. As such, in his position of responsibility, he couldn't just "call in sick" and go rescue my truck. But, he said, he could help on Saturday, which was tomorrow.

At this point all I could do was wait - so I did. No calls from the insurance company, so I made plans to perform my self-rescue. I used Holly's car and ran around town to get all the supplies I could conceivable need: Battery acid which could have leaked out from the truck being on its side. Gas. Oil. A spare tire. Technical rock climbing gear including pitons, rock bolts, carabiners, rope and pulleys. A come-along hand winch. Chain and cable. Even a fire extinguisher.