Thursday, September 30, 2010

Feliz Cumpleanos, ChaChi!

I am playing blog-catch up and posting about the kids' birthdays that I missed. Dawson turned 6 years old on September 30!





Dawson (whom I affectionately call ChaChi or Bubba) turned 6 years old today! Wow! I know it's cliche, but I'll say it anyway. He has grown up SO fast!

Dawson is still about as happy-go-lucky as he was the day he entered this big world. What a blessing his laid-back personality has been for me all through his life. How could Mr. Chunky Monkey Dawson NOT be content and laid back as a baby? He ate, smiled, smiled some more, then his beautiful long eyelashes would lower and he'd be fast asleep. He rarely cried as a baby and still nary cries as a kid. Things that make him cry is frustration over things like not getting to be with Daddy 24-7, or getting his couch spot taken by another tv viewing sibling when Dawson gets up to get a drink or go to the bathroom.

ChaChi likes to look good. He does NOT like his dad to cut his hair anymore, because he does not like it buzzed with the clippers. He likes to have a good old-fashioned scissors-only haircut. Dawson's fashion necessity seems to be a collar. Dawson can take a button-up shirt with a collar or a polo, pair them with his khaki or denim pants or shorts and "bam!" you've got some Dawson style. He's got a couple new pairs of shoes he loves. His birthday present was a new pair of RealTree Crocs, which are camouflage with blaze orange on the shoe strap. His birthday outfit was his Realtree Crocs paired with a pretty boy pair of blue shorts and shirt.

Dawson's birthday focus was his daddy. Family tradition is that Travis takes the birthday boy or girl out to lunch at the restaurant of the birthday boy's or girl's choosing. Dawson waited all morning, in anticipation of his special date. He saw Travis's truck turn onto the farm and roll up the drive. Dawson's little feet hit the floor and he met Travis outside! They went to lunch together at McDonalds and when they got home Travis stayed for about 10 minutes to watch Dawson open his present. Dawson then IMpatiently waited for Travis to come home from work in the evening, because he knew he was going to go with Travis to Wichita for a mission meeting. Dawson's little love tank was full from being with Daddy all day AND he got presents. What more could a little boy ask for on his birthday?

An even better question is, "What more could a mom or dad ask for in a child?"

Monday, September 20, 2010

A Parking Brake and a Prayer









Read on, as we rejoin the Davis family in their summer off-roading adventure in Pike National Forest. We last left the Davis family with their minivan stuck on the side of a cliff' as a result of following a "back road" deep into the huge forest. Previously that day, they had climbed to the top of Devil's Head fire observatory and enjoyed the wonderful view. Little did they know, their adventure had not ended with getting lost and having wildlife encounters!

I instructed the kids to go back to their "waiting spot" up the road and asked them to be praying as I scanned to make sure there wasn't any wildlife stalking them.

I got in the van and did my "get in the van routine." Mirrors, check. Seat, check. Seatbelt, check. PARKING BREAK, umm...

The parking break was engaged! I quickly thought back to how long it had been since I put it on out of habit. I feared Travis might go ahead and leave me out in the dark with the wildlife if he realized what I'd done. I remember putting it on about 2 hours into our being stuck, and just before getting out on my signal-searching walk.

Travis had been trying, unsuccessfully, for the last hour (at least) to get the van unstuck whilst it had the parking break on. All of his hard work in the last hour had been for nil because I thoughtlessly put the parking break on!

"Crap! TRAVIS..." I hollered out at him as he was under the van putting the floor mats under the tires for extra traction for our last "getting unstuck" attempt. I didn't even wait for a response. "The parking break was on. I'm so sorry. It's been on since I left to go find a signal."

His head popped up and he stood up straight to look at me. "You mean the parking break has been on the last 4 or 5 times I tried to move the van?"

"Yes," I matter-of-factly said, waiting for the scolding.

Travis smiled and let out a chuckle. "Well, that explains a lot, he said. I kept smelling something, thinking it was the rubber from the tires spinning in their places. I was smelling the rubber from the parking break! I also wondered why in the heck the van wasn't moving, because I had done about everything I could think and the van still wasn't budging. I was baffled because I could find or see nothing that seemed to be getting in the way of the wheels moving."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, well, watch out. I'm gonna try it again. I bet it goes this time." Travis finished putting the rubber floor mats under the tires that he had dug out, just for extra measure. I took the parking break off, whispered and extra prayer, and steadily pushed the accelerator.

The van moved!

Let me now point out that God had promptly and directly answered the prayer we had prayed 5 minutes earlier. The kids were cheering and grinning as they watched me pull the van closer to where they were standing.

I heard Jillian yell, "It's unstuck! God unstuck the van!"

Justis smiled and yelled, "Daddy, I knew God would get us out of here!"

Travis was hollering, "Jae, don't stop! Don't stop! Keep pulling up! I'm gonna direct you, and you're gonna have to back up. Watch my hands and listen, and go the way I tell you, okay!? Put it in reverse now, but don't stop completely!"

I got to a speed just fast enough to prevent us from getting stuck again and carefully switched to reverse.

"Turn the wheel right!" Travis said as he motioned. "Now left a little. Now a hard right. A HARD right."

Well, in true Jae form, I decided after the second turn of the wheel per Travis's instruction, that I NEEDED to do my own thing. In my mind doing the wrong thing was justified because I had to make sure I didn't back off a cliff, above anything else. I was quickly reminded that Travis wasn't telling me to make a hard right for the fun of it.

"Crrrrreeeeeaaaaak," the whole van went.

"JAE! WHAT did I tell you?! I said hard right! Do you know your right from your left?"

"Well, I didn't want to drive off the cliff, so I turned it the other way."

"Jae, I'm standing right here and can see where you're going better than you can. Do you really think I would steer you off a cliff?"

Doing directly the opposite of something God, my husband, or one of my parents usually proves to be disastrous. You'd think I'd have lived long enough to remember this when I'm contemplating doing my own thing.

"Well [wait for it...], I'M SORRY! I was wrong." I admitted.

"Well," Travis retorted, "You just drove right into the rut!"

"Well, we can't do anything about it now. I'm gonna just have to keep backing."

The van had been moving during this whole conversation, and so I let my foot off of the break a little more to get backing. The van made HORRIFIC creaking noises. The sound was like a huge steel fixture slowly falling down. Travis later told me that the van was actually suspended on two, opposite wheels when I made the wrong turn over that rut. Needless to say, we'll be getting the alignment double-checked next time the van goes in for an oil change!

I kept backing down a little way until it was safe to stop and switch drivers and let the kids back in. The kids had been following the van down as I backed down in the headlights. Travis got in and continued backing until we came to that clearing that had been a ways back, so we could turn around.

As if we needed more to contend with, we realized the roads did not have signs facing our way for the trip out of the park. We stopped and looked at all of the little "roads" going everywhere and wondered how we were going to find our way out.

Well, the good thing about being lost in a national forest in the dark, is that headlights cast shadows on tire tracks, making them discernible. Only then did we realize we were the only set of highway radials that had traveled ANY of the roads. All the other tire marks were, um, OFF-ROAD VEHICLES!! Identifying our tire tracks was fairly easy, so we just prayed they were visible at every turn we made along the way.

I kept checking the cell phones for service as Travis followed our tire tracks. I FINALLY got a weak signal at around 10:30, so I sent out a text to Travis's sister Holly with our general location so someone could come looking for us in the event that nobody had heard from us by morning.

Did I mention we were VERY low on fuel? We had 3/4 of a tank when we entered the park that day. We were almost down to empty by the time we started to retrace our tracks back out of the park. Again, nature helped us out, and the majority of the ride to the nearest town with a gas station was mostly a coast downhill.

We ended up making a complete circle, by the time all was said and done. We ended up having to come back up to the cabin through Denver and Colorado springs, due to having to go where the nearest fuel station was. I switched back over to driving once we got gas, and I drove us home as Travis and the kids (who were ALL exhausted) could sleep the rest of the way in stress-free peace. We got back to the cabin around 1:30 a.m. Colorado time. That's 2:30 a.m. Kansas time!

We were already making light of the very serious situation we were in while we were still "navigating" the very serious situation. The next day our adventure had turned into a funny story. Our family kind of came together under the stress and absurdity of that day, amazingly.

Turns out the pressure and testing and the absurd turn of events that day turned out to be a family and marriage-building experience. Travis and I were forced to figure it out when we didn't agree. The kids were so very good amidst the craziness and unknown of being lost. They faced a situation (probably some of them for the first time ever) where they had to rely ultimately on God's help and trusting Him for their safety and security, because the situation was much bigger than Mommy and Daddy!

Travis asked me, "What do you want to do today," when we woke up and got around the next morning. I looked at him to see if he was serious and I replied, "NOTHING! I want to stay right here at the cabin for a day."

Our bodies were physically sore from the washboard and roller coaster roads. We discovered that real off-roading takes every muscle in the human body (ouch!)!

We did go to Wal Mart in Woodland park the day after our adventure, just to buy a couple of board games we could enjoy lounging around and playing together. We also stopped at a gas station to give the minivan a thorough inside-and-out cleaning. A thin powder of dust covered EVERYTHING in and outside of the van. The seats were covered in Colorado rocks and sand from Travis lying on his back under the van much of our trip.

I went in to pay for a car wash and saw the map display at the front of the gas station. I still had a few questions that were left unanswered about our trip. "Where were we when we got stuck? Was it a real road? Did ANY map have all of those little roads marked?" I picked up a few state maps that showed no little roads in Pike National Forest. I Then spotted a row of Colorado ATV and ORV (Off-road vehicle) guides. "Hmmm..." I thought. "Worth a look."

Sure enough, there in the index of one of the guides was the ATV/ORV trails of Pike National Forest. I went ahead and bought the book and took it out to the minivan before opening it. I was so curious and full of suspense, I think I could compare my feeling to Charlie's anticipation of finding the golden ticket in his chocolate bar!

Travis snatched the book up first and went straight to the page showing the "section" of Pike National Forest that we had been lost in. I said, "Look for 351. That's the road we followed."

Travis said, "I don't see it," after he had looked for a few seconds. There were 3 levels of difficulty that the roads were assigned. The difficulty levels were distinguished on the map by different colors. Green for easy, blue for moderate, and red for advanced/difficult. Travis finally spotted 351, but it wasn't marked in any of those colors, BECAUSE IT WASN'T A TRAIL ACKNOWLEDGED OR MAINTAINED BY THE NATIONAL PARK. There 351 was, marked in a faint brown color with a black arrow pointing to the road that simply said, "VERY DIFFICULT."

We both gasped in disbelief before we looked at each other and we bust out laughing. With God's help, we and the Swagger Wagon had "officially" survived some serious off-roading. I know that day was one Travis and I will never forget, and I'm pretty sure even Jillian, who was barely 4 at the time, will always remember it, too! I personally think we should be the Toyota Sienna's new poster family. :)

Sunday, September 19, 2010

A Walk and a Warning

Here's a very quick recap of the first two installments of the story of when we got lost in a national forest. (If you're just "tuning in," you should go back and read my last two posts before this one for the full story.) My story has also been extended to 4 installments. I've finished, but "installment 3" was just going to be too long for one blog post. So I divided into two. Sorry for the suspense. Well, really I'm not sorry for the suspense. :) Suspense is one of the things that make sharing stories fun for me!

We had a great time visiting Devil's Head fire lookout tower in Pike National Forest in Colorado. We started taking some back roads, and drove until the minivan could no longer handle the unfamiliar terrain. We had come to a stop somewhere in the middle of Pike National Forest.

******

We both sat there in complete silence and utter amazement for several seconds. We looked up at the boulders jutting out of the "road" ahead of us and then back again at the HUGE cavernous wash-out behind us that I was just barely able to maneuver the minivan over going forward.

"Well, we're gonna have to back down, then," Travis said after thinking it over for a minute.

"First of all, I don't think I should be the one to be trusted with backing the van down a mountain. Secondly, it's foolish to try to back down with a van full of kids when there's a drop-off on one side of the road! I think it would be smart to get the kids out BEFORE we start backing."

"I totally agree," Travis concurred.

"That way you can also jump out if the back wheels go over the ledge and the van falls off the cliff." [Just a heads up here. I know I speak fluent sarcasm often, but this conversation was about as serious as it gets. We were REALLY planning an exit strategy plan "B" in case our van went over a cliff! REALLY?!]

"Alright, kids," Travis announced, "You've got to get out of the van and go stand up there a little ways. Backing the van back down the road is going to be tricky."

Silence from the back seat. More silence. Then came the sobs.

Tears of stress and fear started running down poor Madalynn's cheeks. She just couldn't take the intensity of the situation any longer! I could tell the other kids felt her pain. Jillian then started crying, too, because she knows it's serious when Maddie cries (and Mommy and Daddy are talking about how NOT to drive the van off a cliff). Dawson didn't say a word and got his shoes on so he could get out. He nearly ran Maddie and Jillian over trying to make it out of the back seat. I'm guessing he'd only heard bits and pieces of the conversation between Travis and I. I'm sure those bits and pieces were enough enough for him to think yesterday wouldn't have been too early to have stepped out of the van and onto solid (albeit uneven) ground.

"Maddie, Dad and Mom just need us to get out until they get over this one spot so we can back down the mountain and turn around." Justis broke the silence with brotherly care in his voice. "It's gonna be okay."

We took a minute to validate any fears the kids had and to pray. We KNEW we wouldn't be getting out of the forest without God's help. Only God knew where we were located in huge Pike National Forest, so nobody else could have helped us anyway!

The kids went up the road several van lengths ahead so Travis would have plenty of room to safely maneuver. They stood watching from "up" the road while I stood behind the van where Travis could see me motion to him where to go from his rear-view mirrors.

Project back-up was "a go," so Travis pulled up a little for clearance from the ravine going down the middle of the road. He then began pulling back very slowly as I started motioning.

Did you know that women speak the language "back-up" differently than men? You know, all of that holding their hands so far apart, clenching their fists to signal "stop" and what not? I thought I had watched Travis do this for me enough that surely I could effectively speak "back-up" in a way he would understand.

Well, one wheel hanging off the cliff side of the road and one teetering van later, Travis and I had a heated discussion about my my "back-up" fluency (or lack thereof). I was trying to help him clear the cavernous wash-out whilst keeping him ON the road and not ROLLING down the side of the mountain. I was unsuccessful.

"Travis, STOP! STOP!" I screamed as I held my fist up in what I thought was the "back-up" indication for stop. His back wheel was rolling over the very little sandy hump separating the side of the "road" from the cliff. Sure enough. He kept going. I added to my dramatic fist pumping and yelled even more urgently with my fist in the air.

"Travis, the van is teetering! STOP! Your back passenger wheel is hanging off the road!" He opened the door to step out and look when he, too, felt the van teeter.

He quickly closed the door to prevent any unnecessary movement. He immediately pulled forward again. The wheel was over the sand barrier so far, that when he tried to get the back wheel back on the road, the front wheel also went over the barrier hump. There we were with both passenger wheels literally barely doing their job to keep the van from rolling down in to the cavernous, tree-lined ravine (with the classic Colorado stream) at the bottom. We couldn't see the stream, but we could hear the sound of the water coming from WAY down below. Having one option for getting unstuck, which was to keep maneuvering, Travis re-focused on the original plan to position the van to back down the road safely.

"Jae, just show me where to back, okay? I'm gonna keep backing."

I said, "Travis where are you planning on backing? Off the cliff? Because there's no room to back up!"

"I'm going to back up, Jae. Just watch the wheels and the cliff, okay?"

"Alright, Travis. Just go." I said, quite frustrated by this point. It was obvious, from the view from behind the van, that it was time to wave the white flag. Travis needed to physically retreat and get his body to the safety of the road, as opposed to remaining in the teetering, cliff-hanging minivan he was currently occupying. (Please remember, this story is from my point of view as a wife. I was naturally concerned more for my husband's well-being than I was about losing a vehicle.)

God must have thought Travis needed to take a break from backing, too. Travis, determined, put the van in forward, went up a few feet, then started backing again. Both tires were too close to the edge for any kind of maneuvering backward, so he quickly tried going forward again. The van's wheels just dug deeper into the sand when he pushed the accelerator this time, though. The minivan was stuck!

We were not only then stuck, we were stuck with two of our wheels hanging off of a cliff!

"Crap!" I said. Then, "STOP!! STOP!! You're just digging the wheels in deeper!"

Travis shut the van off, got out and surveyed the damage we had done with our "project back-up." He put his hand on his forehead and shook his head when he saw that the wheels were just flinging sand because the van was totally high-centered on the narrow sand hump on the side of the road.

"We're gonna have to call someone to come help us out of this situation." I said. "A tow truck or something." I don't even know if a tow truck would be of any help, considering they wouldn't be able to drive a wrecker where we had driven that minivan! "We need to call someone."

"Call who, Jae?" Travis asked to begin helping me make the obvious deduction that I hadn't clued into yet.

"Duh, Travis! We'll call with one of our cell phones."

Then he paused and waited for me to put the pieces together.

"Oh. Dang. I forgot we don't have coverage here." I said.

"Who would you even call, Jae?" Travis asked.

"911! They could at least help us find our location."

"Jae, how would a police car or an ambulance even get to where we are? And we couldn't even tell them where we are, because we don't know!"

Travis spent the next 2 hours using his ingenuity to prepare the van to be unstuck. We helped him find rocks a certain size that he could put in the wheel ruts for traction. He bloodied his hands digging "high center sand" out from under the van. He jacked the "stuck" side of the van up with the tire jack.

We had one or two unsuccessful tries of me in the driver's seat and Travis giving a good push, but the van didn't budge.

I decided I needed to further explore finding a cell phone signal. Travis had nearly completely exhausted all of his resources, which included rocks, sticks, rubber floor mats, the tire jack and all it's pieces, and his bare hands. Reality was pointing to the fact that it didn't look like we were going to get the van unstuck without the help of someone or something else.

I announced to Travis and the kids that I was going to try and help by walking up to the top of the mountain to find a cell phone signal and call for help. I started up the "road" with a cell phone in each hand. I can safely say that AT&T and Verizon have a huge "dead zone" in Pike National Forest! The only places we had bars earlier that day was at the top of the fire lookout and at a few other various random places along the way.

I hiked UP, well out of earshot and and the view of Travis and the kids. I don't know how far I got, but I just kept thinking, "I already did a 1.5 mile walk straight up today, I wonder how long it will take to get to the top of this mountain?"

My thoughts were interrupted and rerouted by a loud, hair-raising growl. That's what I said. A GROWL! A piercing growl that turned me white as a ghost and ripped through the peaceful sounds of the river far down below. I'm no wild animal, but I know a WARNING growl when I hear one!

A million thoughts went through my brain all at once. "What WAS that animal? Bear, mountain lion, cougar?...BIG cat!" Then my brain flashed with images from Animal Planet survival shows showing mountain lion attacks. I went over their rules. "Don't run, because they might mistake you as prey. Don't look at them, so that they don't feel they are being challenged.

I could feel my whole body flush. I came to a dead standstill. I put the cell phones to my side and looked down slowly. I didn't even attempt to look around to see where the growl came from. I didn't even WANT to know where it came from, because I'm pretty sure I would've fainted if I had seen the size and type of animal that had been watching me silently from the forest. Then, sure enough, I would've been animal supper.

Suppertime had come and gone, speaking of supper...

I VERY slowly started walking back down. I couldn't hear or see the kids or Travis, and I'm pretty sure yelling might have also evoked an attack. I kept walking as confidently and steadily and slowly as possible back toward the van.

Then I got to thinking of how I had broken several obvious rules when I made the decision to hike ALONE in a NATIONAL FOREST, WHERE NO ONE COULD HEAR OR SEE ME, AT DUSK! "Duh, Jae!" I thought to myself. And since I was already looking straight at my feet, the thought occurred to me to just go ahead and see what kind of animal tracks were in the road. Turns out it was a well-traveled trail (for animals at least). I'm not an expert animal print identifier, but these were pretty clear: bear, deer, BIG CAT!! Then the chilling question occurred to me, "I wonder how many eyes were secretly watching me through the forest?!"

Travis said I was still pretty pale when I came down into view. I waited until I got to where only he could hear me before I told him what had happened. We decided that any kind of cell phone searching would have to be done the next morning. Did you catch that? Complete darkness would fall on us in about 15 minutes when we had this little discussion. Our best option at that point was sleeping in the safety of the minivan until the morning, when there would be enough light to walk and find some help and/or a cell signal.

Travis said, "Well, let's try getting this van un-stuck one more time before we call it a night. I've worked to make sure the wheels get really good traction this time. If this doesn't work, I'm pretty sure we'll have to find someone with a vehicle that can get back here and have them give us a pull or something. Get in and we'll try it one more time. Let's just pray first."

We circled in front of the van and held hands. Our prayer sounded a lot like this. "[Travis] Lord, first of all I need to ask for forgiveness for losing my patience earlier when we got stuck. Please help us get the van unstuck. Thank you that the kids have been helpful and light-hearted, and thank you that we got stuck with food and water in the back of the trunk. [Me] Lord, we can't do this ourselves and we need your help. Please help us have a good night and find help in the morning if we need to stay overnight. Please heal Travis's bloody hands, and thank you that he has worked so hard to get the van unstuck. In Jesus's name. Amen."

(Tune in tomorrow for the final installment of this story and pictures of what an off-roading minivan looks like stuck on the side of a mountain.)

Sunday, September 5, 2010

Off-Roadin' in the Swagger Wagon

"And now it's time for the REST of the story!" as Paul Harvey always said.

A little recap. We had a fantastic hike up to the Devil's Head fire lookout in Pike National Forest.

We were all pleasantly tired after the hike and loaded back into our Toyota Sienna minivan at the bottom of the trail. I finally convinced Travis to give me the keys and let me drive. I nearly had a nervous breakdown getting to Devil's head in the passenger seat, because Travis naturally hugs the side of the road. Hugging the side of the road would normally be better than hugging the middle line, but when the side of the road is washouts and drop-offs, it's just not the place you want to be. I literally asked him, "Please, for my sanity, can I have the keys and drive?"

He passed me the keys and shook his head with a smile. Little did he know he would spend the next 3 hours as his wife's new off-roading coach when those keys changed hands.

Our maps showed that Rampart Range road, going north-south through the park would take us right back to Woodland Park, where we would get back on a blacktop highway, then we would drive the familiar highway back to the cabin. So we started due south on Rampart Range road.

A washboardy, wide series of switchbacks made Rampart Range Road a bumpy ride back to Woodland Park, but a decent one, nonetheless.

The area of Pike National Forest we were in was a playground for ATVs, motorbikes, Jeeps, etc. The ATV trails followed beside and crossed over Rampart Range Road many times.

The kids and Travis were having a great time, aside from constant vibration from the washboard road, watching the ATV and dirt bikers navigate the trails. I was Sunday driving, not because it was Sunday, but because I couldn't go over about 15 mph due to the condition of the road.

I looked toward several dirt bikers at one point in the drive when I had slowed to a stop to make sure I wouldn't run over any of them crossing the road. One dirt biker stopped his bike and was just STARING at us through under the shadow of his helmet and sunglasses. I pushed the gas again when all was clear and commented to Travis that I was surprised the biker just stared so obviously at us. How rude!

Well, turns out he was the last person we saw for about 5 hours! He was probably wondering what we crazy nuts were doing driving a minivan through the off-roading section of the park.

I used to think people who got lost were just ignorant or didn't have the patience to look at a map. God has a great way of teaching me grace and compassion for others...because now I KNOW how otherwise-normal people can get lost. (Humor me on the otherwise-normal part, okay?)

The road got more narrow and washed-out as we drove, but, according to the map we were still going the right way. Rampart Range Road was the ONLY road in Pike National Forest marked on any of the 3 maps we were frequently checking showed, so how COULD we be going the wrong way? A little hint for anyone planning an off-blacktop Colorado trip anytime soon. Not all Colorado roads are marked on Colorado road maps. Not even close to all of them, actually.


Then, behold! We were at a crossroads. Two signs were posted, both posting mileage to Woodland Park. One said, "Woodland Park 20," and the other said, "Woodland Park, 24." A rocket scientist is not needed to conclude the 20-mile path was the quickest, therefore best, choice. Our maps did not show a crossroads, or any other roads, but there were road signs, after all, and road signs don't lie, right? Another hint. Road signs don't lie, they just sometimes don't tell the WHOLE truth!

"Woodland Park: 20 miles," is the road we chose. Immediate relief from the washboard road came when we turned onto the new road. The softer sand was the perfect ride, smooth and quiet. A great kind of road to finish our scenic trip, we thought. We hardly noticed the fact that 12 mph was the MAXIMUM speed I could drive without losing control on this new-found road.

Speaking of scenery, we hadn't seen more than a trees, mountains, rivers and meadows since we had the stare-down with that "nosy" man on the dirt bike, now 1 1/2 hours in our past. We were only 20 miles from a Wal Mart, though, so we shouldn't worry, right? We conferenced again and, despite the fact there was now NO way or place to turn around now, we were "still in control" and would go ahead and finish the remaining 15 miles on the back road.

Crossroad suddenly became crossroads, and nice sandy road became a narrow sand trail of roller coaster hills with pools of water in-between. I'm not mathematician, but I looked at Travis and said, "Okay, Travis. We can go 10 miles-per-hour now, tops, and we have 20 miles left to go, give or take. That means the 20 miles will take us 2 more hours, right?" Travis is confident in math, so I expected a quick, firm answer. "No..." he said, "Well, [he started laughing and shaking his head as he quickly double-checked his own answer to make sure he wasn't hallucinating] YES!" We both had a good laughed, because it's hard to even fathom 20 miles taking a solid 2 hours.

"Well, we're committed now," Travis said, "We're gonna have to finish up on this road." I was, by now, keeping both eyes on the road, both hands on the wheel, and an eye on the horizon's setting sun. I was also thinking about keeping the minivan's structural integrity, as well. We weren't in an off-road vehicle, after all, and I had to be nice and gentle to the family taxi.

We threw away the notion that a map would be of any help to us at that point, because we knew we were no longer on any plotted road on any of our maps. We were far from any plotted road on any of our maps, for that matter. The minivan does not have a compass, but the sun setting in the west was enough to help us decide if the road we were following was still going south toward our destination. Our only saving grace was these little numbered signs on shoulder-height brown, wooden posts. The numbers were smallish and white and vertical. They had to have been highway signs. Just not any we had ever seen before, right?

Continuing to ignore (or choosing to ignore to keep some kind of peace of mind about the situation) the little red flags that signaled to us that we had no clue what we were doing made no sense, we continued on.

Justis, our little navigator then piped up. I had not heard two words from the back seat for about an hour. The kids all sat wide-eyed and pale-faced in the back seat. Kids don't try to cover up the obvious, which is something I love about little people. "Mom, we're lost!" Justis finally said. The rest didn't have to say anything. Their uneasy faces said it all.

"Kids, the sign pointed this way to Woodland Park, which is where we need to go to get to the cabin, so we have to keep following this road." I was mindfully confident in my delivery, so they would hopefully be convinced. Like I said, kids know and speak the truth. Travis added, "Your mom is doing a good job. We'll be fine."

We were splashing through more and more puddles now, and the little roller coaster hills in the road started to seem like small mountains with lakes on the other side. We passed an odd little pond in a clearing with what appeared to be a dirt track circling around, with roads coming off of the track circle like spokes of a wheel in all directions. We stopped and looked at the little signs marking all of the roads, looking for the one we had been faithfully following. There it was, "251," (whatever that meant).

"What is that smell?" Travis asked?

"I dunno."

"Dad gummit, Jae! It's the brakes smoking! You can't ride the brakes, okay? You've GOT to quit riding the breaks. Stop. Put it in park."

Travis looked around, grabbed a couple full bottles of water, and got out. He then poured water on the breaks to cool them off. Now in my defense, I know brakes are not to be "ridden," but I was on a roller coaster without the tracks and chain to hold us down. So breaks were essential so we did not "catch air" in the minivan. I had never seen breaks "cooled off," though. "Interesting," I thought. Travis was totally gracious, though, and said, "Jae, you're doing a pretty good job, you just can't ride the breaks, okay?"

I was feeling like a pretty confident off-roader after Travis's kind comment, so I started down, or should I say UP, "251." Wait. How deep is that puddle? How am I gonna get around that hill with the rock right beside it? Will I off-center the van if I try to get over that bump?

I was suddenly in a very vulnerable position as an "expert" off-road driver. Haha! I COULD NOT bring the van to a stop, or I would be stuck, yet the terrain was borderline dangerous to take on in the minivan. A pin drop would have sounded like a sonic boom in the minivan. I'm sure everyone was white as a ghost at that point, as I nearly scaled the side of a mountain to avoid a cavernous rut that pretty much took up the whole road and would have swallowed the van wheels whole. I suddenly stopped the van.

Travis was like, "Jae!? What are you stopping for? You need to drive in the road! Keep going!"

"WHAT road!?" I screamed? "I don't think this is even a road! I can't drive through a rut that will suck the van up! I nearly just rolled the van on the side of a mountain trying to keep from getting stuck in the 'road'! The minivan can't go any further or we're going to destroy it!" I said, motioning up the road with my head.

Travis hadn't yet seen the "road" ahead that turned into a series of sharp boulders that screamed, "Try me out if you want to be featured in the new All State commercial!"

"No. No. We can't go any further. That will destroy the van." Travis responded. "You're gonna have to back down."

On that note, I will end today's episode. I know you're thinking, "How could this story get any more unbelievable?" To that, I say, "Oh it will, my friend, it WILL!"