The hustle and bustle of sportsmen and women cluttered in the city of Columbus, Ohio the second week of January has moved on. The camouflage clans of thousands that scurried the streets and hotels have now been replaced with the normal casual business-wearing professionals. The 2010 ATA Show came to a close, but not without the burning embers of creativity, innovation, and enlightenment still smoking.
I haven’t missed the ATA Show in the last four years. The show has always been an incredible opportunity to network with fellow industry associates, catch a glimpse of new products, and meet infamous hunting icons. Many outdoor companies depend on this tradeshow to produce big business for them. The companies’ longevity and livelihood is at stake. An array of insightful ideas, concepts, and technologies are shared between individuals during this famed time. Sadly, this year I missed everything.
My plans to attend the ATA Show had been in the works for the last few months. I had reservations at a hotel, meetings scheduled, and not to mention a harem of people I wanted to chitchat with. My anticipation was as high as ever before, considering I had new plans to launch in effect for my clinic, Wik’s World Outdoors Camp. My flames of excitement were soon drenched with a bucket of water before I even made it halfway to Ohio.
During the endless interstate drive, I couldn’t help but noticed my vehicle’s gears stalling. The seamless shifting became staccato and gas pedal barely ignited any zoom! As I cruised at a mild 65mph, all dreams of arriving to Columbus shattered when my transmission light illuminated my trucks dash. It was over.
I tossed on my hazards and pulled over to the side of the road. I was not only shocked wordless, but utterly furious. My truck crippled hundreds of miles from home, along an interstate with cars and semis racing arms’ distance away. As I pulled out my AAA card, a cloud of gloom hovered over my vehicle and me. I knew this was going to be a long afternoon.
A tow truck was more than happy to safely haul me off the interstate and into a large parking lot. I was able to contact a very good friend who owns a gooseneck trailer. He was gracious enough to drive clear across Wisconsin, through Illinois, and break into the boundary line of the Hoosier State. I waited seven hours for my friend to arrive and save any dignity of life I had in me.
We drove back to Wisconsin with a bummed attitude and fraction of glee. After everything was said and done, I was just glad to be back home, safe and sound.
The transmission has been fixed after a large chunk of change exchanged. I hope to attend most of the upcoming Midwestern Deer and Turkey expos with my vehicle back in action.