A Reptile Dysfunction

I’m a rural tow Truck Driver. You might remember me from this story.

I managed to tear a van I was trying to tow almost in half the other day. It wasn’t some rattling rust bucket where breaking apart was going to happen sooner or later. It was just a fairly normal 2012 Ford Econoline cargo van in reasonable condition for its age. The owner was a plumber doing work on the irrigation system of a farm. He’d left the parking brake off, and the van had wandered down a fairly steep ravine.

I was out there with one of the light tows. We probably should have brought the heavy tow; it’s got a crane attachment so it can lift things vertically, but the plumber and I were both impatient, and the heavy tow was tied up in something else.

Well, I was winching it up from the ravine, and it got stuck on a hunk of concrete with rebar sticking out from it, hidden in the brush. Probably part of an old foundation, but I’ve no idea what sort of structure it was a foundation for.

I had my ride-along (an apprentice) standing by the winch with instructions to ‘pull when I yell’… instructions I absolutely should *not* have given, please do not blame my apprentice for what happened. I should have provided much more clarification on when to pull properly, like ‘wait until I am out from under the van’ and ‘make sure that there’s a clear view between us, and that I’m not in the van’s path before you pull’. At the very least, I should have specified that I would be yelling the word ‘pull’ and not just… screaming.

Anyway, I went under the van with some tools to untangle the van from the rebar. I crawled under and started prying and sawing and clipping at the bars. I reached back to grab a tool.

It wiggled and moved in my gloved hand. I’d grabbed a variety of snake. I don’t know snakes very well, so I couldn’t tell you what type of snake it was, beyond ‘incredibly pissed off’.

It struck at me, but didn’t actually bite me. I guess snakes don’t generally bite the first time if they’re confronted with something too big to eat, but too annoying to ignore. I’ve heard they do it to intimidate. It worked.

I acted like any red-blooded American would do in that situation. I screamed loudly and attempted to get away. My boot got caught in the rebar-concrete mess.

And my apprentice turned on the winch. With me trapped between the van and the concrete alongside an angry snake.

I screamed louder. My apprentice interpreted that to mean ‘up the torque on the winch’. The van started shivering and shuddering. It started creeping along, collecting more rebar jabbed into the underside.

The next few minutes of my life were a bit hectic, and I’d once had a bunch of raccoons fall on my head, one big one and a couple of slightly smaller ones, from a drop ceiling tile in a diner onto my head, so I know hectic when I experience it.

Long story short, by the time I was able to convey to my apprentice to ‘stop’ over the sound of the winch and the van suffering damage above me, my ankle was severely sprained. The snake had already decided discretion was the better part of valor and left without engaging in further threatening behavior towards me, but I didn’t *see* it leave, so I was still convinced that the damn thing was under there with me looking for an opportunity to strike.

It’s a good thing that I carry workman’s insurance, because the damage to the van was substantial. It LOOKED fine from the outside, but underneath the frame had separated in several places, and rebar had penetrated some of the softer parts on the underside.

Honestly, this is probably the most damage I’ve accidentally caused a client’s vehicle. And yes, I blame myself.