Becka's Almost-Fail-Day...and why I believe in humanity again

So I don't make plans very often. When I do come up with a plan I feel the need to follow through with it because they don't come by that often. I decided that I really should go snowshoeing in Logan Canyon on Saturday because I wanted to go snowshoeing, I wanted to figure out exactly what's up the the canyon, and I didn't want to waste the day on the Internet. The plan even had a vague time-frame, which I immediately botched. I was going to be out the door by 10:00, but I didn't really roll out of bed until closer to 11:00 (I was awake before then, I was just enjoying how comfortable my bed is). Then my trekking poles were sucking...and then...and then... In the end I got out the door by 12:50 and headed up the canyon. I had decided earlier that I should explore Tony Grove. I've hiked and biked there before, and its absolutely beautiful, and I've heard that its a nice place to snowshoe. However, I also had a sneaking suspicion that the road would be closed. And it was, but not in an obvious way (a gate, for example, would have been an obvious way to close that road), so I took it. Turns out Gus and I went snowmobiling. It went something like this.
Gus and I had just turned onto the road that lead to Tony Grove. There were big trucks with trailers attached to them all along the road. I thought, "Bummer, this is where the snowmobilers are." Then I came upon a big pile of snow on the road. However, there were tracks all over the snow pile, suggesting it could be overcome. I thought to myself "I don't want to hike 7 miles along a road, I'd rather drive." So I went for it.
Well, turns out the snow was piled there for a reason, but I jumped it. First we were flying, then were landing. As we pressed forward a top 2 feet of snow I got the feeling we shouldn't be there. It was a multiple use zone, but I don't think automobile driving was one of those uses.
After we turned around and made it back over the hill (which was far less traumatic, I got the nagging feeling something was wrong. Every time I tapped my breaks my radio shut off. I'd had this problem before, and it signaled something was wrong with the connection to the battery. Going back a little farther in time, there was a point when Gus's battery was held in place by a metal bar. However, at that point in time I wasn't really good at removing the corrosion from my battery, so eventually the bar snapped in half because of the corrosion. Since then the battery has kind of been floating free.
Back to the present: free floating batteries and free-flying Gus don't mix well. One of the wires on the positive battery terminal came clean off. ***Quick Note: Gus is my truck. I don't usually talk to him, or hear his replies...but sometimes when I'm lonely, or drawing something in Paint.
Gus was still running, but I knew that if I killed the engine I wouldn't be able to start it again. So I pressed on, opting to just scout out the canyon for good spots to snowshoe (they're easy to find, look for places with lots of cars pulled off to the side, but no trailers). I found several areas I wanted to try later and was heading back disappointed. But then I started feeling like a should stop. I have no good excuse for why I was feeling this way. However, my gut was telling me everything would be fine, so I stopped by a turn off near Tony Grove and killed the engine. And it wouldn't restart. I couldn't get any radio noise. I couldn't even get the "your keys are in the ignition and your door is open" buzz. I thought "Way to go gut. Why did you tell me it would be okay?"
I think most of the idea came out of the fact that I just didn't want to call it a day. I just needed to get something done with it. I had been moderately productive all week and would have felt like a douche if I just sat around my apartment all afternoon. I only snowshoed for about an hour. I kept thinking that I should get back down to the road around the same time as everyone from Beaver Mountain was coming down so I could hitch a ride (also, I thought hitching would be safest during the daylight, when there was a better chance drivers would see me and pick me up, rather than hit me). I also had this nagging feeling that maybe I could get Gus to start again, but that wouldn't be an option if the battery drained.

The moral of this story is that I was able to get Gus started, I jammed that broken wire into the battery hard enough for it to stick while I turned the engine over. I felt good about that. Then I went home, napped, made a tasty corn and broccoli chowder and bought a new battery cable. No failure for me that day.

The part of the story where I my faith in humanity was renewed happened today. I was outside trying to figure out how I would replace the battery cable and not really understanding the instructions when a stranger came by and asked if I wanted some help. At that point I had decided to clean off my terminals really well and tape the wire back together so I could drive it down and have my dad take care of it. However, because he was being so nice and offering help I said "Well, do you know how to replace battery cables?" He didn't, but he did help me pry off my positive battery terminal, clean it off, and pry off the broken wire connector. He then drove me down to Checker to buy a new connector, and put on that new connector. This whole thing took about half an hour. 30 minutes this guy could have spent talking with his friend inside, but instead he spent it outside helping a stranger. Oh, and his friend came outside to join in on the fun. It was amazing. Every time he offered to do something else I was like "Are you sure you don't have something else to do?" And they were like "No, not really." And, as an added bonus, this guy explained to me everything he was doing and didn't over-step the boundary of his knowledge. That never happens.

Here's Gus, safe and sound and loving life (during our little Southern Utah vacation)
The only problem with this story is that his name is Clark, which isn't a bad thing, but every time he did something I wanted to say "Beauty, Clark" because I watch dorky movies like Strange Brew, and I'm a bit of a jerk.

So there it is, I succeeded in doing something with my Saturday, and I have faith that my truck will start tomorrow. Yeah me! Yeah strangers!

***Also, I finally got the videos from my vacation to upload if you wanna listen to me meandering thoughts, its a few posts below this though.
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