Hang on! We’re off! I gave the girls a few days to acclimatize before we headed to the mountains. Finally! They were going to see a place I had told them about for almost 30 years that I don’t think they even believe existed.
Cousin George agreed to take us up in his truck since we didn’t know how the river crossings would be. We met at the ranch, climbed in the truck and headed up the canyon. The girls were amazed at the views and I think a bit overwhelmed. It’s different being in the heart of the mountains than seeing them at a distance. That was the most wilderness they had ever seen. We had to open gates, ford creeks, and dodge rocks along our trail. We crossed the rocky flats and pulled into the yard at the old home place. Cousin George unloaded the four-wheeler and we grabbed our picnic lunch out of the back.
I gave the girls a tour of the buildings, many of which were collapsed, and told them the significance and history of each. They drank from the eternal spring that I call, “the fountain of youth,” which is the best water in the world. We had our picnic in the cozy bunkhouse close to the woodstove that had already warmed up the place.
The weather had not cooperated but that didn’t dampen our spirits. After lunch we jumped on the four-wheeler. Of course, I was the driver. The girls climbed on the back. They were layered in clothes but I think they discovered they could have used a few more. Since it was raining off and on, we put on our thin ponchos. We looked quite a sight! Those girls have traveled with me a few times. We’ve ziplined, driven Segway’s, kayaked, thrown axes, flown in planes, ridden on boats, rode horses, forded creeks, ridden on buses and other fun adventures. Having done all those things, a four- wheeler ride didn’t intimidate them at all.
The temperature had dropped quite a bit from the time we left town. It was chilly. No, it was cold. I failed to bring my gloves, so pulled my extra long sleeves over my hands to use as gloves. Off we went up the trail peppered by mist and occasional rain. There were a few puddles along the way. I revved the motor just like I was trying to pop a wheelie. When I saw a good puddle, I just happened to speed up a bit and hit it just right to make a good splash. We jumped over rocks, dodged roots, stopped and pondered the best route around obstacles in our path, and went as far as we could before having to turn around. On the way back, I stopped above the lake. The grass in the meadow was tall and green. Though the rain and clouds shrouded the view of the mountains, the lake still shimmered. Ripples danced on the water as raindrops pelted the surface. It was still a glorious day.
The girls gasped when I pulled off the wilderness road into the tall wet grass. They have traveled we me enough to know that whatever I’m driving has a mind of its own and always manages to go off road. We were pretty much off road anyway. I could not resist riding through the mountain grass and wildflowers to give them a closer view of the lake below. Besides, it’s a tradition to take a photo at the old hay rake. When we were sufficiently wet, we headed back to the bunkhouse to thaw out a bit before heading back to town.
Knowing the river wasn’t too high for me to cross in our four-wheel drive, we knew we would return to the mountains in a couple of days for another adventure with a picnic and bears!