Drag Queen

            One of the biggest challenges of living on a dirt road is keeping it passable. In the summer, it turns to dust and blows away, or sticks like a magnet to the vehicles and we drive it away, leaving behind big holes and exposed rocks.

            In the winter, it floats away, the rain creating gulleys and washouts that rival the Grand Canyon. As it dries, the mud turns to a consistency that is half cement and half quicksand. Wheels leave deep grooves, mule feet leave deep pockets, all of which, as they dry, have the capacity to pop tires and stub toes.

            The ranch is over 300 acres in area, so you can imagine the road system it has, all of which is critical to keep open so the Forest Service has fire access. This creates the need for an art form I never knew existed – dragging the road. Think of a zamboni on an ice skating rink for the concept, only much less glamorous.

            The first step is choosing the exact time to do it – after the quicksand phase, but before the toe-stubbing point. Since Dave is often gone, I had to learn the procedure so as not to miss the ever so small window.

            The next step is pulling the drag at just the right distance from the bumper to keep it from bouncing over the lumps (too tight) to having absolutely no control over where it goes (too loose). Many true drags are all metal piping pulled with chain, or fancy tractor attachments. Our system is more primitive – an old steel “I” beam tied with rope to the trailer hitch of the Jeep. Needless to say, it took me quite a while to perfect this step, with growing frustration because as I dragged, the knots would pull tight and bind up occasionally, making re-tying them truly aggravating.

            The third challenge is tying the drag with just enough angle so that the dirt that collects along it slides off to one side, in theory filling in holes as it does. This step is critical, as I found out quickly. If you pull the drag without enough angle, the dirt piles up in front of the drag and flips it. And remember – SOLID STEEL. I wasn’t able to just jump out of the Jeep and flip it back over. Instead, I’d have to untie it, find a way to drive to the other side of it, hook it back up, flip it, drive back to the right side, and re-hook it. Sometimes this meant a good quarter mile detour each way. Can you hear the curse words?

            Now why, you might ask, not just drag it upside down? Because the damn rope frays and suddenly – TOINK! – you and the drag are separated. More curse words.

            Ironically, after my initial failures and frustrations, I found the work quite soothing. My type “A” little mind enjoys creating a neat and tidy surface out of chaos and mayhem. And in the calm after the storms, it is usually clear and beautiful. What a great excuse to throw the dog in the back, crank the radio, and drive three miles an hour through the mountains, enjoying the fresh scent after the rains and the short-lived green season. Even when Dave is home, I still elect to take on this project. Which has earned me the nickname of the “Drag Queen.”