No kilts in the story here, but the people involved are Scots descendants....

Back in the 1970s I had just moved to a new rural area in Ontario, one that was poor farm land and mostly, as they say, 'returning to nature,' and had found the local farmers and landowners very hostile to anyone traipsing on their 'property', even if it was long-abandoned pastureage and woodlot. This was not what I had been used to, and as a birder and hunter I found it discouraging to say the least. The first grouse season found me walking the edges of scattered small plots of land that had been posted 'For Sale'- the reasoning being that I could claim that I was looking to buy the property and just happened to have my DBBL barrel with me and it seemed like a shame to leave it in the car... (I should mention here that Ontario has some really severe laws on the books against trespassing). Anyway, on one of those visits, I managed to drop both wheels on the passanger side of my car off the edge of the road and hang them in the air, effectively paralzying it against any possibility of driving away. After some ineffective efforts at building a mini stone wall to traction the wheels, I decided there was nothing for it but a tow truck and walked to the next farmhouse which was faaarrr down the road, and went to the door to ask them to call someone- half expecting to be 'run off' with a pitchfork. Of course the farmer rousted himself away from the supper table, ran his tractor out to the spot and yanked my car back onto firm land in no time- and what's more, after I'd thanked the dear man and admitted what I'd been doing "parking" there, he gave me permisson to hunt over his kilometers-long stretches of land on both sides of the road: I'd suddenly become his good friend on the basis that he rescued me! I made up my mind then and there that if I ever needed a favour from someone in that area, I'd show up at their house stranded or perhaps even bleeding and injured, depending on the nature of my request....

Anyway, after all these years I still carry a warm feeling for the old gent, long gone though he must be.