Adventures

Our summer really is like a Disney movie . . . except that our adventures all happen back home in West Valley City (or on the way home) and not up in the mountains.  We haven't had confrontations with bears, made pets of chipmunks, or ridden any deer. 

In the lodge, Bruce sports a golden, rope turban.
(It's a big Turk's-head knot that Michael made.)

Well, OK.  I suppose I almost sort of had an adventure, maybe. But, actually, that was not exactly in the mountains either.

Jessica wasn't feeling well last Monday.  She said her throat hurt and her ear hurt, and the EMTs measured her temperature at 103 point something Monday night.  So right after breakfast on Tuesday I put her in the van and we drove to Park City to see a dr. and find out if she had strep.  She didn't.

I wasn't very excited to drive down that mountain road myself, but I actually liked it better than being the passenger.  For one thing, I take the curves five to ten miles per hour slower than Bruce does; also, I'm in control of the car and from the driver's seat the view/perspective is quite different than from the passenger seat.  It was a pleasant drive. 

My little adventures happened on the way back to camp.  It's too bad we didn't have the camera so that Ryan, who was in the front passenger seat, could take pictures.  The first thing that happened is that we came across the stretch of road that warns us of free-ranging cattle.  Usually we don't see any, but this time there were four cows right in the middle of my lane; well, two cows and two large calves.  I slowed down and honked at them, and finally had to stop.  They just looked at me.  Then one big cow headed off across the road, and the two calves were really close to the van, but not moving, so I tried to slowly get around them.  As I started to move, they decided to move too.  Apparently it was their mama who crossed the street and they decided to follow her.

A few miles later a fawn ran from the center of my lane off into the forest.  I had to slow down a little, but not stop.  And then a few miles later this kamakazi chipmunk dashed across the street in front of me, and then decided to dash back again just as I was arriving.  I'm pretty sure I didn't run over him, but it was close.

That's all the camp adventures.

On the way home yesterday we were driving down Parley's Canyon, had just passed a sign that said "Salt Lake City, 21 miles" when our van started driving really rough and loud. It was a shaky, shaky ride at about 85 mph.  It sounded and felt like something with the back tire and I kept looking out the window to see if I could figure out what it was, but no.  Bruce slowed down to about 75 for a curve when there was a terrible noise like something had fallen off the car.  I looked out, wondering if the hubcap had come off and hit another car or something.  Bruce pulled right to the side of the freeway and we got out to look at the tire, and this is what we saw:

The tread was torn off at least 1/3 of the tire, and the steel-belting was poking out of it. But it still held air, so we crept to the next exit—which, fortunately, was only 1/2 mile away—so Bruce could change the tire.  I, being very helpful, stood out in the sun and took pictures.  We were back on the road again after about 30 minutes.  Not bad!

Bruce has an audience and a photographer as he jacks up the van.

Bruce works on the tire.

Jason works on the tire.

At home the first thing I did was go to see if the girls' carpet was all dry.  This is what I saw:

what's the damage?

Melanie had been talking to our insurance company and they came out and took out the carpet pad, and cut up the walls to see what damage there was.  It looks like they'll re-do the girl's room while we are gone.  Since the insurance company and the contractor both only work Monday through Friday, I gave Melanie the go-ahead to pick out carpet and paint for me (with neutral colors being the only guideline).

So that's all of our adventures for the week.  Fun, huh?  I wonder what will happen next Saturday?