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Grand Adventure or Bad Choice?

Adventure? Bad Choice? Little o’ both?

I think the answer depends on the outcome  😉  Case in point:

My family recently bought a piece of property in the mountains and the papers were signed the Tuesday before Christmas. We didn’t have a chance to christen the property by opening a bottle of champagne so we decided to go up Saturday in the afternoon, have our toast, take some pictures, check out the camper the previous owners had left behind, then head back to town to celebrate Dad’s birthday. Seems simple enough, right?

The property in summer

The property in summer

Another view of the property

Another view of the property

We took two vehicles to the Mesa and parked mine by the mailboxes (I have 4 wheel drove but dad’s truck has more room for the five of us), then my sister, brother-in-law, and I piled into dad’s truck. The first sign of trouble was the slipping and sliding on the straight road leading back to the property. But we figured that the roads couldn’t be much worse than that so we continued on through the two gates and finally down the fairly steep and bumpy road leading to our forty acres.

Once we started down the road we knew we were in trouble, but there is no where to turn around. There’s a rise of land on one side and a gully/wash on the other. But after lots of cursing and laughing and spinning tires, we made it to the spot where we could actually turn around. We climbed out of the truck, tromped through the snow, tried the key the realtor gave us in the padlock (didn’t fit of course), then decided that we should maybe get the heck out of dodge.

Which meant going uphill most of the way on frozen, snow-packed roads…

My sister, brother-in-law, and I climbed in the back of the truck to add some weight. Dad warned us that he was going to go balls to the wall and haul ass for as much of it as he could. Kevin sat against the tailgate with his arms draped across the back like he was chilling in a hot tub (the guy never stresses out, I swear) while Bree and I squatted down. I can’t say for sure what her thought process was, but I wasn’t going to sit down; if I needed to bail out, I wanted to be on my toes and ready to launch out of the back of that truck.

That, and I thought I could maybe bounce the back of the truck if it got stuck and get us out. *shrug*

Dad plowed up the road, slipping and sliding, trying like hell to keep the truck on the side of the road opposite the gully. We bounced around in the back so hard that we all ended up with bruised tailbones and were so stiff and sore today we could hardly move. At one particularly steep point, my dad was hammering the gas so hard the tires were smoking. So with the scent of burnt rubber in our noses, we braved that damn stretch of road and somehow made it back to the relative safety of the straight stretch.

Between the adrenalin and quivering muscles from squatting so long, I almost couldn’t make it out of the back of the truck. After I climbed into the front seat, my mom pointed out to me that I had received a badge of honor for my sacrifice of being bounced around the bed of the truck:

That would be me with the  mud on my forehead...

That would be me with the mud on my forehead…

Bree and I tried to figure out what we would do if we hadn’t been able to make it out of there. There’s another house back on the main road and the people live there year-round. We figured we could maybe hike to their house and eat their food, maybe eat them if we had to survive…

And then Kevin ruined our dramatization by pointing out that we have cell phone service. We told him to mind his own business and continued to plan out our survival if the truck got stuck.

Kevin also pointed out that we had my car back at the mailboxes. *sigh*

Some people just don’t get the awesomeness that comes from shared fake hysteria.

We all laughed and high-fived dad for getting is out of there, vowing that we would not be visiting our property in the winter time and that anytime we headed up there, dad would bring his chains. Even in the middle of summer. Can’t be too safe, after all. So the bad choice had a happy ending and we can laugh about it.

But the adventure wasn’t over yet…

Bree, Kevin, and I piled back into my vehicle and we headed out with dad hot on our tail. Bree and I are back on the topic of eating people (Kevin was reading the paper) when a fork in the road appears: one will take you to eastbound I-70 and the other to westbound I-70. We *should* have picked westbound, but guess what? Yup. I headed down the eastbound lane instead. There’s no way to get back onto westbound until Debeque, which is quite a ways out of the way.


And my family is so awesome that mom texted us, “You’e going the wrong way!” to which we replied “How do you know where we’re going?” and Bree really hit it home with a little text cartoon picture thing of a couple of dudes drinking.

So yeah, that was how I spent my Saturday. And I will spend forever being teased about getting lost and ending up in DeBeque…

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6 Comments on “Grand Adventure or Bad Choice?”

  1. cpbialois January 5, 2015 at 8:44 am #

    And here I couldn’t figure out why the Donner Party came to mind until the end. 😛 Sounds like fun, though. 🙂

    • drshaywest January 5, 2015 at 9:01 am #

      This is going to be one of those stories that we tell for many, many years! LOL

      • cpbialois January 5, 2015 at 9:03 am #

        Oh yeah. They make life interesting. 🙂

  2. blazemcrob January 6, 2015 at 2:10 am #

    No wonder you thought up the idea for Organ Reapers. It’s a family affair. 😀


    • drshaywest January 6, 2015 at 9:03 am #

      HAHAHAHA! We are definitely one of a kind 😉

      • blazemcrob January 6, 2015 at 1:36 pm #

        That works for sure. You’re not bored.


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