Fire in the truck. How stupid could I be.

[redrider90]

Well I pulled a good one alright. I was using the 4x4 Nissan to drive over a couple of large piles of branches and break them up for kindling. I've done it for years. Well Murphy bit me in the a$$ big time (my own fault). So I guess I could of checked but I didn't. After picking up the kindling  I drove out to the road and picked up the mail.  Well by the time i get back I smell burning wood coming from under the truck. I look and I had jammed a piece of  "kindling" wood between the catalytic convertor and the frame. The freaking wood is now starting to smoke. I yell to my wife get a hose and go to the tool box looking for a hammer.  is not on my side.  I beat my wife (not with the hammer  ) back  the to truck and now it is really smoking. Oh that  thingy again .  I get under the PU and hit it twice and the wood pops out. But then I notice small particles of wood/sparks hitting dry leaves. So the  is still ticking.  I am brush the area down with my hand putting out potential flames and then hurry and drive the truck to a cleared gravel section and go back to see if my leaves are on fire (not). If it had gotten away from me it could have taken the house out. Jeeze how stupid can a man get.
I know Darwin awards are only for idiots who bite the dust but I suggest a new grading system for really really stupid things that are Darwinish but not necessarily fatal. So I award myself Darwin B class II. That means B I almost destroyed something other than myself. Class II is I came close to destroying my PU but saved it There should be a further subclass as the house could have bitten the dust when the truck went up. I live deep in the woods and it is tough to get a fire truck down here.
Phew pretty dumb story eh dudes!   

[lucydad]

Red,

I think you deserve an award for quick thinking and action. 

[56Pan]

Red,

I think you deserve an award for quick thinking and action.

X2 

[bigbikerrick]

You did good Red !  Quick action prevented a disaster, and that is success in my book.  I remember when catalytic converters first came out, there were alot of warnings about them starting fires, etc. Its something we  frequently overlook now. Thanks for reminding us of the possible dangers, and giving me a good chuckle, reading your story. 
Rick.

[ken farr]

I haven't done that, however.......



                                 Welcome to my world

[ed.bremner]

Never done that....but my life bounces from one 'Why the feck did I do that moment' to the next. 

The skill seems to be dealing with them effectively and safely, which you did, so I reckon you get a big 'Well Done' in my book.

Stay safe

eib

[normzone]

Thanks for sharing - this is one of my favorite kinds of learning experience - where somebody else makes the mistake and tells me about it before I do it.

[trippah]

Truck flambé, awesome.  My son in law was clearing out some trees and assorted brush last week while I was down visiting - he never showed my this particular technique.   Glad you got it out in time.

[Aaron D.]

I'm very glad it turned out ok. And it's only stupid if you do it again.

[charlie b]

Similar.

We have packrats around the property.  We also have mice and squirrels. 

Unusual but I had not driven the truck for a couple of weeks so took it into town.  When on my way home (after a couple hrs running around) I noticed that I could smell the wood burning fireplaces in the neighborhood.  Made me think I needed to get some more wood split.

Got home and it smelled stronger.  Opened the hood.  Packrats had FILLED the engine compartment with wood chips, pine cones and whatever else they could fine to make a home.  The smell was from the wood that was sitting on the turbocharger heat shield.  I think if I had driven a few more miles I would have had a fire too.

Now we leave the hoods of the vehicles open when parked.

[steven c]

 I almost set an MGB on fire when I left an old sock I was using as a rag on the exhaust manifold. No your not stupid, Me on the other hand…….

[stick]

Wow, sounds like you gotta remove Murphy from your calling list!   

[nick949]

Hey don't feel bad. 

I was trying to jump start a Honda CB650 from my fairly new SUV.  Of course the carbs were leaking. Of course the bike backfired then turned in to a fireball.

I had just enough time to jump in the SUV and back away from the mess. 

The heat swelled the tank so much it blew right off.

Duh! 

Nick

[jbell]

So who's job was it to bring the hot dogs and marshmallows?     Glad it turned out as just a funny story.

[canuguzzi]

At least your belt didn't get hung up when you were under the truck, then your wife would have to write the post.

[johnr]

Great story! I enjoyed it. Breaking up fire wood with a vehical now, I would never have thought of that. Brilliant!

When it comes to stories of stupidity, please allow me to share one.
(It's a few years old now. I was a bus driver at the time and had a school run to do twice a day the start and finish of which was about 60 miles from Invercargill.)

On Friday I made a bad decision.  My typing is slow and the supply I had of Voltaren is diminishing rapidly as a result of it.

It all has to do with my wages. Ever since my company cut my wages as thanks for improving the efficiency of the school run I do, I have given up snorting down the Wreys Bush Highway with the little Mitsubishi van they give me all strung out at 125 K in a effort to get home as quick as I could. No more of that!  No, these days I cruise back at thoroughly legal speeds and generally take my time. I will even stop at odd points for a 'break' especially if it's a scenic wee spot by a river or some such. I also find I'm much more inclined to take 'more interesting' routes.

It had been a fine sunny day despite the usual doom and gloom from the weather forecasters. In the morning I had stopped to watch a whole bunch of competition jet boats do their thing on the Oreti River. Some sort of marathon they had going. These boats were apparently doing about 95 mph as they went under the bridge I and others were watching from. The distinct sound of very large supercharged V8s doing their thing. It was all very exciting and impressive.

Anyway, there I was, cruising home that evening after my afternoon run when I felt the need for a nature stop. Yes boys and girls, that means I needed a leak!  Now just where the Wreys Bush highway crosses the Oreti River near Winton there is a little road heading off up stream among the willows along the river bank. "Oooh"  thinks I whilst standing there doing my business, "I've never been along there. I wonder where that road goes?" 

Not, I might add, an uncommon thought for me, and one that is frequently acted upon. It's a habit that harks back to my childhood and I think it's genetic. My family would often throw a billy and the other necessities for brewing tea into the car and take off for an afternoons "sploring"  as this activity was known. In summer down here the sun doesn't go down till about 9:30 PM and it's followed by a long twilight, but we still often arrived home in the dark.

Earlier than that even, when I was about three and a half years old, my father had to paint my address on the back of the tray of my trike to make sure I got 'returned to sender' so to speak. I was once picked up by the Police as I left the city limits on my trike about 5 miles from home and peddling furiously on the open road towards Gore. They gave me an apple. I'm afraid my relationship with the Police has deteriorated somewhat from that high point.

Into the van and off up this apparently quite well used road I go. After less than a kilometre I found myself in a disused gravel pit. Well it wasn't a pit so much as an interesting collection of hillocks, piles of gravel, willows and dead machinery. It was very picturesque actually and I wished I had my camera with me. But then, an ex pupil stole that. I came to the conclusion that the only reason the road looked so well used is that the local Winton youth used it in the same way we used to use Oreti  Beach or Fosbender park. (Also known as Suspender park) in the days of our youth.  Many a steamed up window could be spotted in both locations late on a Saturday night.

Anyway, in the course of cruising around this surprisingly nice spot I went up a little hill between two piles of gravel and found that the road continued beyond the gravel works from there. It dropped down about a 12 foot  bank of loose gravel and disappeared as one of those hard mud roads with grass in the middle amongst the willows.

This was the point at which I made the "bad decision".  I continued down that bank. If I had not been a bit strung out and tired I might have thought about that some more.  As I went down the bank it occurred to me that it might give me some trouble if I had to come back this way, and I might well have to do that.

I got about 40 yards before I was brought to a stop. Just out of sight from the top of the bank and round a corner in the willows, the road turned into a swamp. The sort of place that would have looked right at home in the Everglades and you would be a-feared to walk in case you got your arse bit by an alligator. There was absolutely no question. I had to go back. Worse, I had to go back in reverse.

Now these little Japanese vans have absolutely no weight over their rear and driving wheels. I thought I would have trouble getting up that bank going forwards, but that was nothing to what I could expect trying to go up it backwards. 

There was nothing for it though but to have a go, so have a go I did, with the expected result. I got about two thirds of the way up and traction was lost. I got no further.  I went down again and along the road as far as the corner and took a run at it.  Again I got to about the same place and lost traction. The sweat was starting to break out on the brow at this point. I was in trouble.

It was time for an all out maximum effort. I drove down right to the edge of the swamp. I stopped for a moment and mentioned to the universe that I really didn't need this and that I could use a hand. I got myself in a comfortable position where I could pear out the back window, and let her rip.

Backwards we shot that van and I. Slewed round the corner at God knows what speed and hammered it, engine screaming, for the bank. Up we went, much faster than before, until at about the same place as before we lost traction.

This time though, instead of just stopping in place and spinning, the van slithered sideways and before I could do anything about it, went off the side of the bank. On the right side of this bank the ground rose but on the left it dropped sharply into a little gully and there we were, teetering on the edge of that gully on the very point of rolling over into it. It was in the effort to stop myself being thrown into the left hand side that I hurt my little finger on my left hand. I saw it get bent right back at right angles to my hand. I thought I'd broken it at the time but I had more urgent things to attend to.

I quite believe that had I been thrown into the left side of the van, my weight would have had it rolling down into that gully. As it was, I climbed out of it rather gingerly, held it till it stopped rocking, and then did the right thing. The right thing of course, was to sit down, have a smoke and consider the situation. 

One thing that was abundantly clear was that I needed help. A tow truck sprang to mind. I could probably get one from Winton, though possibly not, and it would be a bit of a walk to get there.  Another thing was that I distinctly did not relish the thought of explaining all this to my employers. I had absolutely no business being there and was playing fast and loose with their time. If the van rolled, I would not have any choice but tell them about it, but if it didn't and I paid for the tow truck myself, maybe the situation could be recovered.

Tow trucks can get kind of expensive though so that decided me. I set off for the nearest farm in search of a tractor and someone to operate it. No luck at the first farm I came to. It was only 4 acres and they felt that such a small place didn't justify owning a tractor. The lady of the house though piled me in her car and we went in search of one. Had to share my smokes with her but I didn't begrudge that one bit. It is surprising how far away everything gets when you are walking. I think it's a plot, a bit like those trees that get bigger as you approach them and smaller as you go away from them....

Anyway, we tracked down a young man who had access to a magnificent tractor. It had big wheels at both ends and drive to all of them, a passenger seat, air conditioning and a sunroof.  We made our way across paddocks as much as possible because, as he told me, the last time he drove it on the road he got a ticket because he did not have a heavy vehicle licence (the thing weighed over three and a half tons) and for leaving mud on the road. I must admit, awkward as it must be to clean tractor tires every time you take one on the road, I had a secret smile at this one. If I came snorting round a corner pushing things  a bit on my motor cycle and found great six inch thick dollops of greasy mud all over the place, it would not be the first time. It's a scary and dangerous experience.

After arriving at the site of my misfortune and a bit of discussion, we decided to hook onto a fine set of bull bars that adorned the rear of the van. The idea was that this would stop it falling over into the gully and pull it straight up the bank.  Well, you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men! We had forgotten one rather important factor. This was a Japanese vehicle. The bull bars were just there for show. They instantly split almost in half and bent out at right angles to their normal position. The van didn't move. We unhooked the tie down we were using to tow with and I shoved the bull bars back into place with my foot.

Another conference along with another smoke or two ensued and it was decided that I had got the van far enough off the track for the tractor to get down beside it. This was done and we hooked it up to a towing eye that was under the front. This would, hopefully, allow us to tow it out downhill. It was a tricky thing though. I hung off the right hand doorway looking like I was keeping a sailing dingy upright in a strong wind and hoping to have the same effect. This also allowed me access to the steering wheel so I could influence which way the thing was pointed. Oh so slowly off the edge of the gully and onto the road it came, at the bottom of the bank of course and with the tractor on the wrong side of it. But hey, real progress had been made.

Further discussion accompanied by the now obligatory cigarette produced a plan that was pretty similar to the 'doe-see-doe' of square dancing fame. The tractor of course could go places that the van could not so was able to get far enough of the road to allow the van to pass. In no time we had it at the top of the bank and all was well.

Well nearly all. There was no one at work to notice my arriving nearly an hour late, though I had an excuse all worked out for that anyway. Plausible one too, and of course I wasn't claiming for the extra time.  That bull bar is going to fall off at some point, but with a bit of luck not until the crack has aged enough to be obviously not recent. That way, I can justifiably know nothing about it. If I'm really lucky someone at work will give it a bit of a knock and off it will come. Due examination will show that it had been cracked for a long time and was due to come off anyway. If it stays on for long enough I might just publicly discover it myself.

There was also the matter of the finger.  As is often the case when there are things to be done, injured bits give up on hurting because no one is taking a blind bit of notice and sending "I'm hurt" messages becomes a waste of time and energy for the a-fore mentioned bits. They don't much like being treated this way though and have a tendency to get their own back as soon as they think they can get your attention.

It didn't seem too bad at the time so I figured it was probably just a sprain after all. I was a bit shocked though so I did wonder.  That night, I was settled in front of friend Jasons TV. He has sky so we can watch Enterprise and the history channel and get critical of shallow "documentaries". It inspires wonderful discussions about such things as evidence for Atlantis, pre historic high technologies, ooparts in general, pre Maori non Polynesian cultures in New Zealand and a host of other goodly things. The finger got cracking and made a fine job of convincing me it that at least it was broken, and that I may have done in a bone in my hand as well. I told it to have a good nights sleep and see me in the morning.

Well I had to do a job the following day and, quite frankly, it was just as well the bus was an automatic. I could barely operate the indicator with that hand and certainly could not have changed gear in a heavy vehicle with it. I could not bear to have it rest on anything that vibrated so spent most of the day holding it in the air. Four PM saw me off to the hospital to get it checked out.

Well there goes my Saturday night. I don't think I've ever been to hospital for anything that did not involve a wait of at least four hours. When I reported in it was obvious that the thing would have to be x-rayed. You would think the senior nurse at reception who came and had a look at it would have organised me to go down to get that done straight away, but no, I have to wait for the four hours to have a doctor say "Right, we'll get that x-rayed, off you go down that corridor".  Are the doctors really busy all that time? If so there aren't enough of them.

Could it be that for financial reasons they hope that a percentage give up and go home? I know that after being knocked out for 4 minutes in Auckland I went down to the hospital there as you are supposed to after a head injury and ended up doing exactly that after waiting for 4 hours.

Then of course being a smoker, every so often I went outside for one. The hospital though has a policy of no smoking anywhere on their grounds "For the good of my own and others health" it says on the poster.

The absolutely unbelievable arrogance of it! For a starter, if I'm a smoker anyway, it's not going to affect my health one way or another if I smoke on their grounds. I've been making a determined effort to adversely affect my health with cigarettes for the past 44 years come pancake day, and they may well get me yet, but whether or not I smoke on hospital grounds is not going to change that for good or ill.  Secondly, we are talking 'outside' here people. There is no way in the world that my or anyone's smoking outside in the open air is going to affect the health of anyone else. And let's get things in proportion here while we are raving on about this subject. One breath of diesel fumes will do you the harm of 25,000 cigarettes. (Yes folks that's twenty five thousand!)
 
I'm getting het up. Better make a coffee before I start getting some very gothic ideas about Anette King.

Nah, it's too late. I already have those gothic ideas about what should be done to that unhealthy blob of a health minister.

When an officious little uniform rushed over to remind me and the 1/2 dozen others out there of this policy, I smiled nicely at her and politely said "I decline to comply". She looked at me, absolutely speechless, and went away. This of course, endeared me considerably to the assembled 1/2 dozen.

Of course I got called by the doctor while I was out there. He was so miffed that I was not there with tongue hanging out in breathless anticipation of his arrival that he refused to see me later. I had to see a real person.

The finger, despite its fuss, was only badly sprained, hence the Voltaren. I've given it the day off today and am expecting it to be fully operational tomorrow.

[nick949]

Great story JohnR. You had me hooked throughout! 

Nick

[Kentktk]

  And let's get things in proportion here while we are raving on about this subject. One breath of diesel fumes will do you the harm of 25,000 cigarettes. (Yes folks that's twenty five thousand!)
 

 Only a smoker would try to validate smoking with an untrue statement like that

[johnr]

Only a smoker would try to validate smoking with an untrue statement like that

I wasn't trying to validate anything. I certainly was not trying to imply that smoking was good for anyone.  It was more about keeping things in proportion. In any case I don't need to validate anything.

But what makes you think it's untrue? A German study showed it to be true at least in so far as its carcinogenic properties go. (Not something the Germans were keen to make much noise about given how invested they are in the diesel)

But I am not going to get into any arguments about smoking here, at least not in this thread.

It was supposed to be a hopefully entertaining tale of a stupid decision. I'm sorry if that's not what you got out of it.

Edit:
On re-reading that sounds a lot harsher than I meant it to be. Can't see how to fix it though. Struck a nerve.

[nunzio]

My wife tried to "roll" a small bale of hay out of her way with her lawn tractor...one problem the muffler is in the front. 

 luckily, the bale was near the house and garden hose.