Charles François Daubigny: The Heritage of the Wagon
[The Children with the Wagon] (1861)

"…The Muse isn't certain what she wants to do with the furniture the new treasures will displace."

The pioneer tradition survives with the presence of a thriving wagon-lending industry led by a cleverly-named company: U-Haul. The name suggests that you do your own hauling, much as your post-Civil War ancestors loaded up their meager belongings and hauled their assets the better part of three thousand miles to Oregon. Then, one was expected to use their own wagon. Now, it's possible to rent one for the short duration of a modern migration. Who hasn't been shanghaied into helping someone move something or engaged in some shanghaing themselves? We maintain our treasures the same way we tend to acquire them, by carting them all over creation. I remember the time when my to-be first wife and I were able to easily cram everything we owned into the back of a Volkswagen Squareback Stationwagon. That was the last move either of us ever executed that didn't involve renting some wagon.

Those who rent wagons and vans tend to be the ones least capable of handling them. In one move, I rented a huge pick-up truck, nearly the size of a Monster Truck, and subsequently crushed the rear side panel of a small sedan parked in the narrow space next to me. I was surprised by the truck's narrow turning radius, so I began that move by leaving a humiliating note under my victim's windshield wiper blade. The Muse says she always checks all the boxes when renting a U-Haul rig because it's just more likely that somebody will manage to get into an accident while attempting to use it.

She committed us to purchase some lovely Stickley furniture from an old family friend. This would require a one-way hire from southwest Portland back to nearer the center of the universe, a seemingly straightforward situation. Neither of us had driven a truck in a quarter of a century, so what could actually go wrong with the scenario? There was immediate controversy over the size of the vehicle. We requested a ten-footer, but they only had a fifteen-footer available. At our insistence, they located a ten-footer, but we'd have to drive a few extra miles to fetch it. Our friend, from whom we were purchasing the furniture, asked if we might help move some other stuff between her daughter-in-law's father's place, her daughter’s, and hers. She committed to hiring movers to heft the treasures if we'd contribute the vehicle for moving. We spent three hours shuttling between people's garages, with me learning how to drive a high and wide vehicle again, and The Muse leading the procession in The Schooner.

Between our early start and the shuttle trips, we'd missed breakfast, so as we headed for the home-bound interstate, The Muse, as leader of the procession, pulled off in search of gas and breakfast. She chose a suburb featuring particularly narrow streets, the kind where van drivers like me tend to hold their breath when passing through. I had not learned quite where the edges of that vehicle lay, so I somehow managed to navigate through several clearly 'no way' passages before surrendering, calling The Muse and pleading for her just to get back onto the freeway. I even agreed to lead.

I managed to take the wrong exit and direct us back toward town, while still driving a vehicle the approximate size of a double-wide parking space. Again, we found ourselves wending through streets that were obviously too narrow. We were again unable to find a place where we could at least get some coffee, a seemingly unlikely situation in a city known for its coffee culture. Put the potential purchaser in a huge vehicle, and the choices shrink into the infinitesimal. We pulled back onto the freeway heading home, though we pulled off at the last truck stop to finally grab some breakfast around noon.

After that, we settled into an easy rhythm with The Muse leading at five miles beneath the posted speed limit and me following her in my vehicle, which lacked cruise control. We found the traveling refreshing, free from the pressure to keep up with and pass slower-moving trucks. We let everyone else pass us, offering no competition. We'd wasted an easy hour and a half searching for breakfast in town, but I noticed the miles slipped by more easily in a vehicle with bigger wheels. I concocted a story where vehicles with bigger wheels covered any distance in fewer miles than any smaller-wheeled vehicles. Think about this. If I measure distance in wheel rotations, the smaller the wheel, the more rotations it makes. I suspect I was covering at least twenty percent more ground than The Muse was driving in the same distance. Such are the imaginings of anyone trapped in a moving vehicle without their CarPlay, which wasn't working with that van's radio.

GMaps was changing our route without notifying us of any road closures, so The Muse, in the lead, chose to pull off and check what was happening. I followed. The best information I could find suggested a fire interrupting traffic fifty miles ahead, and I suggested heading for a slightly longer and lonelier alternate route. As we headed toward that route, the U-Haul engine began surging, and the vehicle lost power. I pulled over as I watched The Muse pass over the bridge too far. I called her and she returned. I limped into a nearby truck stop lot while the Muse caught up. We sat for two hours before U-Haul’s roadside assistance confirmed that they'd dispatched a tow truck to haul the vehicle to our home. We arrived home fifteen hours after we'd set out that morning, the tow truck driver dropping off our albatross before heading out on his three-hour return trip in the gathering dark.

Had The Muse not pulled over to investigate the GMap anomaly, and had I not opted to bypass that bridge, I can easily imagine a more memorable breakdown. UHaul promised to reimburse us for the regrettable dinner we bought while waiting for the tow truck. We spent an entertaining couple of hours watching truck drivers refuel their vehicles. We made it home by bedtime. HaulingAssets reliably produces memorable stories, ones filled with unlikely occurrences and heroes. This happens because we're so unfamiliar with the vehicles we drive in that context. They might just as well rent those trucks to children, as reliable as most of us are behind those wheels. This rental will likely end up costing U-Haul Central multiples of whatever revenue we'll be responsible for. They probably make up such losses with volume. Oh, and The Muse isn't certain what she wants to do with the furniture the new treasures will displace.

©2025 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

Tags: #FollowingChapters, #PureSchmaltz