After about an hour and a half everything had been cleaned up. The driver, who was alone, had managed to climb out of the truck before the ambulance arrived. He was taken to the hospital with a cut on his head and apparently much confusion about what had happened to him. It seems he had simply come around the curve too fast. My mom and I were in shock all day. We took a walk up into the forest and made lunch, but generally felt kind of exhausted from the drama of the wreck.
On Monday morning we prepared to drive to Albuquerque for my mom's train, but my station wagon would not start. We thought because it was a cold morning. (Although now, several days later I still can't get it going...stay tuned.) So, we called Jimmy Herman, the postman and miracle mechanic who lives down the road. He showed up and we tried to jump the thing. After a 1/2 hour we gave up and were lucky enough to get our dear friend Evan's old black Saab, which had been wilting into the scrubby brush behind the house since the summer, jumped and going. The battery of this car had a hole in its side, so we could not turn the car off, as the charge would not hold. Not only that, but this car can only be started with a big screw driver and some certain jiggling of the automatic window button while you turn the ignition. Fortunately, I had driven this car before, so I remembered the tricks.......eventually. So, with the black car resurrected and the luggage heaved into the back, mom and I charged off down the road. And just as we cruised up the ramp onto Interstate 40 we caught sight of mom's train, the Amtrak Superchief, already on its way from Gallup to Albuquerque, where we were to catch it. It was just like a play, as some people say, or an old movie, as we raced the train across the cold morning plains of western New Mexico in a rattle-trap car that, against fear of missing the train at the next station, we could not turn off.
After successfully getting my mom on the train, I met up with Evan, who lives in Vermont, but happened to be in town. He delivered me to Jeff's Gasoline Alley, an import car garage in Albuquerque, where my other car (one member of my family's fleet of aging, but treasured, foreign cars) happened to be ready to pick up after getting its choke cable replaced. So, Evan took his car and I took mine and drove back home. On Tuesday Evan and Ellen arrived from Albuquerque to load the trusty black Saab (with a new battery) with at least a 1/2 ton of tires, table saws, photo enlargers and a gigantic red car hoist (the perfect instrument with which to lift the entire car into the air, if you want to do such a thing) and books, all of which Evan has been storing in the basement here. They intend to drive all of this back to Vermont by the end of this weekend.
In other news we may get some snow tonight....
