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!"