I watch a lot of the television show SurvivorMan and I take mental notes the whole time. Honestly, I couldn't wait to go camping this summer with the faintest of hope that something could go wrong and I would be ready to go: catching squirrels and starting fires with a rock, a small piece of string and my mind. That was until today.
When we get snow one of the more important areas that should be cleaned off is my parents' balcony. If the snow piles up and then starts to melt it can lead to water damage in the house. Well, I hadn't done it the last couple of storms, since anything out of sight is out of my mind. I finally was reminded to go out and clean it off, since it was starting to solidify. Throwing on just a sweatshirt, after all this was only going to take 10 minutes (don't get ahead of me, people), I got the door open and started to clean off the snow.
The top layer was three or four inches of light fluffy snow, but underneath was solid ice; remnants of the last two storms that I had neglected to shovel. This was probably 4 inches thick. So, after getting rid of the snow I started hacking away at the ice. But, after about 15 minutes I was starting to get really cold (it was about 18 degrees out today and I was in the shade) so I decided to do the rest another time. So, I turned to head inside... and the storm door wouldn't open. Well, shit.
After pulling on the door for a couple more minutes I began to assess my situation. I was stuck on a balcony, slightly sweating from hacking at the ice (always a no-no according to Les Stroud) and it was freezing outside. My father was on the other side of the house so no chance he would hear me yelling. I had a couple ways to look at this. I could:
- try and lower myself the 10 feet from the balcony to on top of the grill and hop down from there. (unlikely, plus I would then need a new grill)
- try and break into my parents bathroom through the window. (also unlikely)
- attempt (with no running start) to jump the 20 feet across to the sun room roof. (highly unlikely - who do I think I am, Chuck Norris?)
- kick in the storm door. (very messy)
- beat the hell out of the lock. (and we have a winner)
As I began to see visions of myself being written about on the next Darwin Awards (freezing to death on a balcony when there are other people in the house has to be up there) I cleared more space on the balcony, braced my feet, grabbed the door with two hand and started pulling. Now, I am not what you would call light, by any standard. But I have to give the makers of this door credit, it did not budge. I then just started punching the handle itself since it was my main problem. I'm sure that if my hands weren't numb it would have hurt (nope, no gloves either).
But, eventually I got the lock to move enough to shake loose and get the door open. It was only after I was inside and started to get feeling in my hands that I realised I had a phone in my leg pocket the entire time. Yeah... so much for keeping my wits.
Moral of the story: I'm still going camping this summer, but I'm bringing extra supplies for everything, just in case.
No comments:
Post a Comment