Just got back from a (mostly) wonderful trip to the mountains. My parents have a vacation home in Crested Butte, and summer is absolutely wonderful there. We take hikes and look at flowers, go fishing, go 4-wheeling in the jeep, fix wonderful meals, watch the fireworks wrapped in blankets-- totally and completely wonderful. This year had even more opportunities for getting out and rolling around in the splendor of the mountains-- Mom and Dad bought a kayak and 2 ATVs! Which led to our interesting experience chronicled here!
O.k., since I'm new at this the pictures of our Crested Butte adventure are backwards. If you start at the bottom, you'll see my brother and his girlfriend on the Yamaha Grizzly, as we headed up the trail. (I drove most of the way up on the other ATV, a Polaris, with Joey riding, and we had a great time!) Dad's #1 rule is that you don't set foot on the ATV without a helment. Joey and I are living proof that that's a great rule. (both of us will have to buy new helmets for the next ATV adventure!)
The next pictures are a few days after; Dad and my daughter #1 rode one 4-wheeler, and Joey and I rode the other. We had a beautiful trip up to Poverty Gulch-- there had been an avalanche during the winter, and although a bunch of trees were taken out, they smelled absolutely divine. We were stopped by snow before the top of the pass, but Glacier Lilies were everywhere-- really beautiful. Since it was a short trip, we decided to go on up to Paradise Divide.
The road up to the divide is really twisted and narrow-- steep most of the way. We got to the top, stopped to play in the snow and admire the lakes, then started back down. On the last steep slope (not the worst, thank God), Joey got the front tire caught in a rut that led to the edge. He stopped, then gunned the engine in an effort to get out of the rut. We were in 4wd, and with the extra gas lost traction and slid off the side. We fell straight down about 6 feet, then rolled about 50 feet down the hill. Probably the scariest ride I've ever taken. Joey lost consciousness (scared me near to death) but was sitting up fairly soon after the tree at the bottom stopped his roll. (I managed to skid to a stop about 10 feet before the tree.)
On the way out of town, we had passed my brother in the jeep and told him where we were going. He took my sister, neice, and daughter #2 home and decided to head back out to find us. He drove up just as my dad reached us (he had left daughter #1 around the bend, not knowing what he would find); John took us to the clinic in CB, then called 911 when they were closed. Joey had to stay the night in the Gunnison hospital, but we both escaped with only cuts and bruises. (My bruises have bruises, but I am so very grateful that we weren't permanently damaged.) Dad and John went to get the ATV the next morning; it had hit the lower road and kept on rolling. I am also so very grateful that my dad wasn't more upset about his 9-day-old ATV. Joey and I would like to help replace it someday-- Joey just won't ride it again! (I LOVED riding the dang thing, and will probably do it again. I have a healthy fear of the edge, and promise to go SLOWLY-- probably helps that I wasn't driving!)
And the whole connection to knitting is that while Joey was in the hospital the next day, getting IV drugs to take away the pain from wounds that weren't as bad as mine (I was on Advil, since I couldn't drive while taking Vicoden), I went to the new yarn shop in Gunnison and did my own therapy! Bought some sock yarn and dpn's to start on while Joey was waiting to be released, some beautiful cranberry yarn for a felting project, and some gorgeous, soft dk blue mohair just because I liked it. And it helped that the owner, Darrah, was so very nice. I still hurt, but I felt a whole lot better!