In control: Reporter Shamona McClary operates D.H. Griffin Wrecking Co. equipment with help from Brian Cross.

As a reporter, I am used to the daily unpredictables — a wreck, a murder, a fire, etc. But never in this lifetime did I think I'd find myself at the helm of a 175,000-pound demolition machine.

Scary isn't it, little ol' me operating a monster of a vehicle. The biggest thing I've ever driven is my father's Toyota Previa van. Rest in peace 2DAHOOP No.1.(And no, I did not wreck it.)

Anyhow, there I was on the N.C. Research Campus site in the middle of an interview with David Griffin Jr.,vice president of the Greensboro-based D.H. Griffin Wrecking Co.

As we rode around in his company pickup, he pointed out several operations on the site.

Then we pulled up to a massive dinosaur-looking machine. It scooped up pounds of dirt and then poured it into a pile to the side.

Griffin said it was the Kamatsu 750 Mass Excavator. It cost millions of dollars, he said. The name alone impressed me. It sounded like something Saddam Hussein would have liked to get his hands on.

The next few words out of Griffin's mouth raised my eyebrows so high, you would have thought I just got injected with Botox.

"You want to drive it?"he asked.

I thought he was joking. After all, I can't even drive a stick shift. Thank God for automatics.

Plus, I heard workers train rigorously to operate those machines.

But considering that I'm a spontaneous, adventuresome Sagittarius, and that I probably would never get another chance like that, I went for it.

I first had to get up to the cab by climbing on top of the tracks. That was kind of tricky because I was wearing sandals, but I managed to find a couple of steps and hoisted myself upward.

Once inside, I made myself cozy and looked around at the joystick-like controls.

I expected to see signs explaining how to operate them. I guessed wrong. But luckily the operator, Brian Cross, climbed up and stood beside me.

Before I touched anything, Griffin snapped a few shots of me with my digital camera. He must have known I loved posing for pictures. And I guess he didn't want me distracted while I was operating the machine. Smart man.

Cross gave me a rundown of each control, and all I could think was, "I'm going to knock over that fire hydrant." You could barely see the hydrant. It sat up out of the dirt like a small cactus in the desert.

I think Griffin saw the puzzled look on my face because at that point, he yelled up to Cross and told him to just let me maneuver the arm and bucket and scoop up some dirt.

Again, smart man. He definitely did not want me to move the whole machine. I probably would have plowed over his truck the way you see army tanks do it in the movies. On second thought, that sounds pretty cool.

Cross slowly guided me through the process. And on the first try, like grabbing for a toy in an arcade game, I delicately scooped up a little dirt. But the whole time I had my thumb pressed on the horn and didn't know it.

I yelled because I thought I was doing something wrong and stopped the bucket in midair. We all had a good chuckle about that.

Griffin said he wished he had a video camera to capture my award-winning scream.

After I emptied my first bucket, I thought I had things under control. More confident, I got a little ahead of myself and started to maneuver a bit faster.

Cross didn't warn me of the effects from making quick movements, however. The machine started to rock and make a rumbling noise. I held my composure, but inside I was terrified.

For one, I thought I broke a million-dollar machine. And two, I thought Cross was going to rock right off the side.

Glad to say, I completed my task, and we all came out alive. No injuries. No damage. And besides the scary moments, I had a lot of fun.

The only downfall was that I ruined my French pedicure and my brown pants turned a lighter shade of brown from all the dirt. But it's nothing a little Tide couldn't handle.

Out of the 1,250 employees of D.H. Griffin, Griffin said about 75 are women. Most work in the office instead of the field, he explained.

Knowing this, I felt like I accomplished something for women everywhere. This goes to show we can do anything a man do. And in most cases, do it better. (This was not one of those cases.)

So here's to you, women of the world.

It's a dirty job, but somebody's gotta do it. Tell Griffin I'm still waiting on my check.

Contact Shamona McClary at 704-933-3450 or smcclary@salisburypost.com.