When my hunting buddies and I leased several hundred acres of land for the coming deer season, my wife and I agreed that it was time for me to buy the four-wheeler that I had been dreaming about for so long.  I did my research, checked all the websites, and read all of the magazine articles before settling on a brand new 2000 Honda Rancher.

            My first visit to a dealer was pretty straightforward.  He gave me a price that I thought was too high, I gave him a price that he thought was too low, and we left it somewhere in the middle, closer to my price than his.  I told him that I’d call him in a couple of days and let him know where we were.

            The next day, I went to another dealer to find out his price on the same four-wheeler.  He didn’t have a Rancher with the standard shift, so he let me try one of the new electric shift ES models.  I fell immediately in love with the bike, and decided that it was the one that I wanted.  I gave him a price that was actually lower than the first price that I had given the other dealer, and, after talking with his manager, he told me that he could do it.  I could hardly believe my luck; I was getting a better bike for a better price!

            I told him that I would have to take the deal back to my manager, my wife, and discuss it with her and get back with him the next morning.  My wife, wonderful woman that she is, agreed that I had found the best deal, and that I could get the bike.  I was ecstatic. 

            I called the man back at the dealership and told him that we were on, and that now all I had to do was go buy a trailer, then my wife and I would come by the next day and pick it up.  That’s where the fun started.

            Ted, my hunting buddy, had told me that a local tool warehouse had a special on 5x7 trailers, and that one of those would be perfect for my four-wheeler.  I started thinking that maybe I could take a half-day at work, go get the trailer, then go get the four-wheeler, and then Ted and I could go riding the next day!

I called the warehouse to ask about a trailer, and unfortunately, they had sold out that very day.  The man at the warehouse called one of his store’s other locations a couple of towns away in Gastonia, and we were in luck: they had several of them available. 

            I called up Ted and told him the good news; the deal was made on the bike, and I had found a trailer.  We made plans for me to go get my ATV that afternoon, and then we would go riding up in the mountains early the next morning.

            I left work early and drove down the road to the tool store, and I saw that the trailers looked pretty good.  I went in to talk to the man about buying one, and we were all set to close the deal, when he said, “My man, we’re going to have to mail you the title.  The manager is out of town today, and he is the only one that can notarize it for you.”

            “No problem, “ I said.  “Can y’all just mail it to me?  I can drive the trailer on the road for thirty days before I have to get the license tag, right?”

            “Sure,” he answered.  “You’ve got a thirty day grace period with the state...  As long as you don’t haul anything on it.”

            My heart sank.  “What?   I can drive it on the road, but I can’t carry anything with it?  I’ve got an ATV that I need to go pick up!”

            “Well, “ he said, “you can take your chances on the cops pulling you over.  If you don’t have the title, you can’t haul anything.”

            I asked him several times if there was anything we could do.  Could we transfer the trailer back to the first store and let their manager title it?  No… can’t do that.  Can I take the title down to the bank myself and get it notarized?  No… it has to be done here in the store.

            I looked at my watch.  It was 2:00pm.  The four-wheeler dealership stayed open until six.  I asked the man if anyone else in the area sold trailers.  He told me about a place several miles back up the road by the lake that dealt exclusively in trailers. 

            I left the store and headed for the lake.  I knew the place he was talking about; I had passed by it many times before.   I got there very quickly, and started looking at their trailers.  They were of much better construction than the first one that I had looked at, but they were also priced much higher than I could afford to pay.

            Ok, 2:45.  Still time.  What do I try next?  I decided to call the original tool warehouse back and ask them if they were sure that they didn’t have one somewhere on their lot.  When I looked in the phonebook, I saw that the store actually had another location, two towns away in Matthews, back in the other direction.  I decided that I could make it over there if I hurried.

            I got on my cell phone and called the store.  A salesman came on and told me that he thought that they had some of those trailers in stock, and that he would walk out back and look.  He must have been on a cordless phone, because he kept talking to me as he walked out there.

            “Nope, I don’t see any… oh wait.  There’s some,” he said.  “I’ve got a bunch of them that look like they just came in.  Only problem is, none of them are put together yet.”

            I explained my situation to him, and asked him if there was any way that they could throw one together for me real fast.  I told him that it would take me about an hour to get there, and maybe they could have it waiting for me.

            He told me that he would check with his boss.  He put me on hold, and was gone for quite some time.  I started driving in his direction, just in case.

            When he finally came back on, he said “Yep, I can have one put together for you.  It’ll take about 2 hours.”

            Ok.  Two hours from now, that puts us close to 5:00pm.  I thought that maybe I could go to his store, pay for the trailer, then take the title and papers over to the state license tag office and go ahead and get the plates while they were assembling the trailer.  Things were starting to look up.

            “One thing,  “ I said.   “I was just at your other location out in Gastonia.  They had several of these trailers, but the manager wasn’t in town, so they couldn’t give me the title.  Can I get the title from you?”

            “Sure, no problem, “ he said.  “All of the managers for our store are out of town; they’re at a big convention this week.  But I think our manager notarized a few of the titles before he left town.”

            It looked like my good luck had started to turn bad again.  Earlier in the week, I had sold a boat to a friend at work, and when I had the bill of sale notarized, I was told that the bill had to be signed by the buyer in the presence of the Notary Public.  How could the manger have notarized any of them in advance?

            I started to ask the salesman about this, when he said, “Well, I’ve looked all over the store, and I can’t find those darned titles.  Tell you what, just come on over and get the trailer, and we’ll mail the title to you in a week or so.”

            A vein in my forehead started throbbing.  Ok, what time is it.  3:30.   Think. Got it!  There’s a Suzuki dealership back in Gastonia that sells trailers!  I’ll just go back to them and get one.  I don’t care what it costs at this point.

            I turned my truck around, again, and headed back to Gastonia.  I still had time to make it, but just barely. 

            As I pulled out onto the interstate, I thought that I was noticing that my truck was acting a little funny.  When you really know a vehicle like I know my truck, you can tell when the slightest thing is wrong.  It seemed like the motor wasn’t revving as high as it should.  I had had the transmission in my truck rebuilt about seven months ago, so I hoped that something wasn’t going wrong in there again.

            I shrugged it off and continued on my way to Gastonia, exiting the interstate at the proper place.  When I got to the top of the exit ramp, I gave the truck some gas to make the turn.  The engine revved, but the truck didn’t go anywhere.  I moved it from “drive” to “neutral,” then back to “drive.”  There, that did it.   The truck started going again.

            I headed on toward the Suzuki dealership, when all of the sudden the truck started shaking violently, then it jerked to a stop in the middle of the road.  I sighed and looked at the clock.  I didn’t cuss.  I mean it, I didn’t.  I looked at the clock.  4:15.  So much for getting the four-wheeler today.

            I put on my hazard lights, then got out of the truck.  Immediately I could smell the stench of burnt transmission fluid.   I looked up underneath, and the fluid was pouring out onto the hot Carolina pavement. 

            What do you do when your wonderful day has gone horribly astray.  I put my head in my hands for a minute or two, then sighed again and called for a wrecker.  While I was waiting on it, I called my wife just to hear her voice, one ray of light on this dark day.   My voice was choked when I told her how badly things had gone wrong.