As requested I was at the yard at 0800 the next morning. As I watched Holly's car disappear around the corner, I couldn't help but wonder if Bob had some type of trick up his sleeve. More specifically, since Bob was the current president of the Arizona Tow Truck Operator's Association, I figured that he would "call in some chits" from his buddies and have them assist us. I was wrong. As we rolled up to the trailhead in the cruiser, I spotted an odd sight. It was a 35' long flatbed trailer with, what a surprise, a D-4 'dozer on the back. Two dudes were standing around smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee from a thermos. Perhaps Bob is smarter than he looks. Slide 11 The D-4 was soon unloaded and the delivery truck was last seen in a cloud of dust westbound back to the equipment yard. We headed up the trail with the rented operator in the D-4's driver's seat, Bob and John were in the cruiser and I elected to walk. The procession proceeded at a snail's pace due the low gearing of the D-4. Within 45 minutes we reached the first tough spot on the trail were the trail traversed a slab of granite that lay at a sizable angle to the right. To traverse this spot required no small amount of nerve and faith due to the angle of roll of the vehicle when it is on the slab. Since cruise and I were behind the dozer, we could watch as the tracks bit, then slid on the sloping rock. With the D-4 stopped and teetering in place, the operator jumped out of the cab on the uphill side. White-faced he said "Man, I just rolled a D-9 out at Pima (mine) last month. It ain't worth it. This is too tense. If you want to proceed, go ahead, but I'm not!". Great. I'm thinking, I can operate this thing, no problem. But, when I made the suggestion, the operator said "Can't do it because of insurance. You rented the dozer AND the operator." So we retreated back to the trail head. A grim-faced Bob got on his hand held and phone patched to the equipment yard and had them send the truck to pick up the D-4. Slide 12 When we finally got back to the trail head, the truck was waiting. Much to our surprise, the truck driver said "I can do it. I know how to run this thing and I'm approved as an operator by the insurance". So the crew switched positions and the truck and trailer disappeared for the second time that day into the dust. After the truck had left the new operator, Fred, said "Joe there is just a wimp. That accident he had really made him goosey. Besides, my daddy always told me "never send a boy to do a mans job", Now I know what he meant." Despite my current optimism about getting Bob's truck back and Blaze out of the brush, I felt sure that before the day was over that Fred might have a little gas released from his machismo-bloated ego. Hell, every other attempt had taken some type of toll. No reason this attempt should be any different.

We proceeded up the trail at an agonizingly slow pace. I couldn't ride in the cruiser because the back seat was too cramped. I could ride on the D-4 because it was sprung like a rock and the impact of every pebble in the trail was transmitted to the frame. So I walked for a while and then stood around waiting. Walk and wait. Walk and wait. My anxiety was starting to peak as we approached the "slab". Partially from being bored by walking so slow and the rest due to the chance of Fred's claims of manhood being a bluff. But Fred didn't let us down. Even though the D-4 was teetering and rocking like cheap cradle, he passed the slab with ease. After the slab was behind us, I settled in for a sizable hike to the damaged trucks.

Once we reached Bob's wrecker, extraction off the steep switch backs was straightforward - with a few exceptions. We had to use the D-4 to pull the wrecker up the switch back so Bob could get the wheels aligned with the trail. Slide 14 Then, when the next switch back on the downgrade was encountered, the process was repeated. This was primarily due o the fact that the wheel base of the wrecker was too long to allow the truck to make the turn without backing up at least once. Slide 15

Soon the wrecker was resting comfortable in Agua Caliente Wash. Now it was the Blazer's turn. We creeped up the switch back and positioned the D-4 on the down slope side of the truck. Affixing a large pulley to a set of boulders on the uphill side of the truck, we stuck a steel cable from the D-4 through the pulley to the uphill side of the Blazer's frame. With the gentlest tug from the D-4, the Blazer was rolled back on its wheels. Slide 13 Now we're in business! With success in sight, we picked up the cables and other paraphernalia and put in the Blazer. Now I was faced with the rather daunting task of "free spooling" the Blazer down that steep set of switch backs with out the aid of power steering, power brakes or the ability to back up. For anyone who owns a vehicle that had power equipment can attest, when the engine is off, just turning the wheel is a major task. Braking is no easier. So I was going to get to experience both simultaneously. On a narrow, steep grade where a mistake could cost my life. Acutely aware of my earlier luck after brushing wings with the angel of death, I couldn't help but wonder if my luck had expired. Clearly, to this point the whole extraction exercise had been a classic comedy of errors. Was this trend to continue? Bob's voice broke me out of my morbid musing: "OK, the dozer is on the first switch back to help you if you can't negotiate the turn without backing up. Give it hell." Interesting choice of words, I thought as I attempted to get the truck into neutral. I pulled on the transmission lever with all my might. No motion. Harder. Nothing. Bob, seeing my dilemma, came to help. "Maybe the park pin is bent." Then the noted "It helps if you put in the key and turn the ignition, dip shit!". True. I had forgotten to insert the key. The good news was I HAD a key this time. Easy to do. Within seconds I was rolling down the grade, listening to the crunch of the tires on the gravel. Since there was no engine noise, I used the gravel sounds as my ultra-low speed speedometer. I had tightened my seat belt as tight as I could bear and took my foot off the brake slightly. "Too fast", I thought, so I depressed the brake harder. No effect, so I pressed harder. I kept pressing, but no real reduction in speed. Finally, in desperation, I used both feet on the pedal. That worked, but it required a substantial fraction of my total leg strength to cause any effect. The message was "Keep to a crawl". So, learning from this, that's just what I did. Down the grade at one mile per hour, both legs on the brake pedal, and red faced from effort, I proceeded. The first switch back approached quicker than I expected. Not wanting to have to cable up the D-4 to assist a "two part turn", I attempted to swing wide and cut it hard. Easier said than done. Like the power brakes, the power steering was very difficult to turn. It took both arms pulling with all I had to get the wheels positions correctly, but I did it! The first switch back behind me I crept toward the second. Like the first, it, too, was negotiated with substantial difficulty. But I did it. Ahead in the trail Bob waved me to a stop and said "If you can, pull close to the wrecker and we'll cable it up and get the fuck out of here!". Cool. Soon the wrecker was in sight and the grade of the trail allowed me to coast right up to the business end of the wrecker. I put the Blazer's transmission into park, set the parking brake and hopped out of the cab. Like a man bent on getting his money's worth from an expensive hooker, I was drenched in sweat. My legs and arms were shaky from the effort. Exhaustion aside, the team had succeeded in "getting to first base". All the equipment was now in Agua Caliente Wash. Time for lunch, even if it was 2 PM.

Bob was in better spirits now that he could see a solution to his problem. When we finished eating, we cabled up the Blazer to the wrecker and header down Agua Caliente Wash, D-4 in the lead. Ahead of us lay a mile or so of boulder crawling in the creek bed. Having the D-4 in the lead turned out to be a good decision on Bob's part. Fred moved many boulders out of our way so we didn't have to negotiate tight turns or risk damage to either the undercarriage of the wrecker or the now exposed underside of the Blazer. This arrangement seemed to be working fine, until Fred hopped out of the D-4's cab and said to Bob "The left track isn't pulling correctly". It seemed that, even though the D-4 could steer correctly, that when Fred tried to move a boulder of any significant size and use the left track, it didn't pull. I'm thinking "This isn't good. Now we could have a stripped truck, a damaged wrecker and a disabled D-4 in this wash." And what would we use to remove the D-4? A bigger bulldozer, say a D-9?

We waited while Fred fiddled with the D-4's controls. After about ten minutes, he said "I need to take this back to the shop. If we continue and it gets damaged, then I'll be in deep shit with the boss. I can get it to turn, but not under load. So, I figure that if we go now, we can get out by dark, get it fixed and come back tomorrow and finish up." Thinking about another walk out of the canyon in the dark, I concluded that Fred's idea was the conservative approach.

Off we went at the D-4's snail pace. I elected to walk. When we reached the front range of the hills, Bob used the phone patch to call the rental yard. The truck, and Joe, was waiting when we arrived. The dozer was loaded without incident and, for the third time that day, I watch the truck disappear into the dust. I climbed into the dreaded back seat in the cruiser and we went back to the yard. Bob's last command was "Tomorrow. 0800 sharp".