Scene: perfectly dry and compacted dirt trail, winding around in the wilderness. I drive around a curve and over a stream, and WHAM! Nose into horn and flying of pens, pencils, empty coffee cups, and bug spray. This perfectly good road apparently has a rusted out culvert across the stream. After surveying the damage, I find that my left front tire has fallen through the road bed, suspended about five feet above the bottom of the pipe, and the truck is held up by the bumper and step bar. And there is no way I'm getting out of this.
So, I hiked back the highway and started the 3.5 mile trek up to the nearest house and flagging traffic that might have a cell phone with service (seriously, an entire county in which the largest nationwide network gets no service = rural). I get several polite waves back, but, while friendly, does me no good. Luckily, 2.5 miles in to my leisurely walk, a logging truck with a very nice driver pulled over and gave me a ride the 8 miles to the nearest town (in which I barely get service). Fast forward two hours, coworker has shown up, truck is winched out, no visible damage, and mapping is finished. My boss is quoted is saying, "Well, if you're going to get stuck, at least you did it right."
Hopefully, I can add a picture later once my husband shows me how to download a picture from his old phone.
Also, tomatoes! Now I just need them to turn red. I tell them that at every opportunity.