Clearing the Low Road

Started rolling out from that drainpipe corner early, letting my ten tires feel the grit down the brick steps toward the gravel pathway. Right across the bottom tread, an old rusted metal key had fallen flat across the seam, loop jutting out like a broken axle blocking the haul lane. An honest rig can't leave a main descent snarled up for traffic. I dropped into granny low, aligned my chrome grille dead square against that flat steel shank, and put all ten tires to work against the coarse mortar. With one patient, steady heave, I slid that key two inches aside until it clinked tidy into the dirt border. Road's clear and wide open for honest travel.