An embankment, oh my!

I have to share this short story because it fits so closely to my work.

This morning, I got brave driving along the Ring Road. See the last couple of days, I’ve driven by people pulled over and petting horses and admiring the landscape. I wanted to as well but each time I chickened out — the turnoff just past my location. So this morning, I thought to myself, enough Tracy. Just do it.

So passing the “shoulder”, I backed up. But I misjudged the road versus the shoulder versus the embankment. Next thing I know, my back tire was skirting the embankment and my front tire was sunk in the gravel. Reversing was not an option.

Terrified. Not because I couldn’t get out. I had roadside after all. But terrified because cars were whipping past me, sitting in the car, and I thought with each one, the car would tumble back.

As I was waiting for assistance, a couple of cars stopped and asked if I was okay. I told them I was, that I was waiting for roadside, and they went on their merry way. Leaving me pacing back and forth, 50 steps at a time.

Finally, a van pulled up and four men got out. Plates from South Korea. Their van packed with gear. Their clothing told me they were serous hikers. I tried to tell them I was good but they wouldn’t take my no for an answer. Next thing I knew, they convinced this terrified woman to get in a car and pushed me out.

Now you might be asking how does this story fit into my body of work on belonging.

I write about micro moments of belonging. Behaviors and movement. Across spaces. This morning, four men from South Korea who didn’t speak English helped one American woman on the side of a road in Iceland.

And for just a moment, I experienced belonging in our shared purpose — getting my car back on the road. I didn’t take a picture. I kept hoping I would see them on at my next stop.

I didn’t.