The Case of the No Tows Barred

Once a month I drive into the backwoods for a little bird watching. Some might call that a girlie hobby. But if you haven’t felt the rush from watching a crimson-breasted whirly-keet take flight, then you don’t know what it’s like to feel alive.

Usually the old forest roads are as deserted as an English class taught by Arnold Schwarzenegger. Which is why I was startled when I eased my Prius around a corner to find a woman pushing a dark blue SUV. Being a first-class gentleman, I pulled over and jumped out to help.

“Car trouble?” I asked.

“Heck no. My doctor told me that pushing a 3 ton vehicle up a muddy incline would be good for my back.” She glanced at the binoculars hanging from my neck, prompting, “What are you doing out here, anyway?”

“Bird watching. I’m looking for the reclusive African swallows— they can carry one-pound coconuts with their talons!”

“Wonderful. But can they push an SUV?”

“Well, maybe, if we had a few hundred of them. But a tow truck would be a better option.”

“And my fist would be a better option upside your head if you don’t shut your mouth. I can’t call a tow truck for insurance reasons.”

I smiled, letting that beautiful word “insurance” dance around my head like a helium-filled ballerina.

“Miss, I’m actually in the insurance game, so maybe I can help.”

She suspiciously considered my help like one considers a water balloon in the hands of an 8 year old.

“Well, my client had a covered collision claim in a remote area of Alaska. They had the vehicle pulled out of the ditch and towed to the nearest body shop for a repair estimate, which made sense to me since the policy requires the insured to take all reasonable steps to protect the auto from further damage. Well, the removal and towing bill came to $457, and when I submitted it to the adjuster for consideration, he refused to cover it. Said ‘‘towing is not covered’ and is the responsibility of the insured only. So here I am today, afraid to call the tow truck because it’ll cost me big time.” Just then I spotted a brown bird dancing along the top of a fir tree. I aimed my binoculars and caught the creature in flight.

“Miss, I know two things for certain: one, that’s a bacon-flavored crescent wren over there; and two, your adjuster needs his brains towed.”

How was Ace going to tow this problem out of the ditch? For help solving this mystery and to check your solution against Ace’s, click here.

Jonathan Hermann (hermannism@gmail.com) is an IA contributing editor.