It was rather amazing when it happened, when I replay the plowing in my mind. There was no sound, but firewood was flying right and left. I was certain of going right over the edge, into the pit. But then silently, glacially, the flow of wood and woodgasser ground to a teetering hault. And I turned off the key and shut all the valves, not quite realizing what had happened.
Reminds me of one day years ago, I was creeping slowly through an intersection in a big 24 foot yellow Ryder van. I looked down to see a collector car (fifties something) slowly plowing into the broad underside of my truck. The driver of the car got out, unharmed, and exclaimed, "I just KNEW that if I took her out this morning someone would crash into me!