32-hour non-stop expedition home sweet home/SNEAK ATTACK

32-hour non-stop expedition home sweet home/SNEAK ATTACK

Yup. I said it. After the Manitou incline our bodies were aching and so were our hearts for home. Our tentative plan was to spend the night in CO springs at our main man jeffy’s…but as a group ruling the paper ballot was in favor of home sweet home. Jeffy we still love you, & you tooo sethy! The legendary Durango drifters steer the bow of the boat towards the east coast straight across I-70 east for a solid 32 hours plus pit stops. We began our trek at 11:30 mountain time, the boys rode shot gun for the first 17 hours… cobra took the first shift, followed by Billy with the graveyard shift, we pulled into a gas station to fuel up and swop seats around 4 am near the Mississippi river. As the Durango was fueling up with gas, Amy & I fueled our veins up with a large coffee. I was Amy’s co-pilot/ photographer. As we drove across the Mississippi river, Billy is yelling “tric, take a pic, take a pic…. SNAP! I took it just it time!!,,, except the flash was on whoops. FAIL. Amy chipped away at a good 10 hrs or so. During this time, the boys are passed out in the back, positioning themselves every so often… we did capture some pictures of it… but Billy got his sticky hands on them…and pressed the delete button, but since Amy is brilliant yet again and knew he was going to try to delete them, she secretly locked them. Billy retaliated with swiftly taking the memory card out of the camera and stuck it out the window only gripping it with his dumb and pointer finger. This went on for about 10 minutes, until it somehow it was settled. I’m not to sure about the ending, since I was driving at the time. But I know the pictures were deleted and we saved the memory card from flying out the window. Amy chipped away at 8hrs of driving time before I took over. When I took over, it was a very quiet drive… everyone was to himself or herself, sleeping, reading, and or listening to music. Except the bursts of energy out of cobra & Billy from the backseat… dropping it like it’s hot. I ended my route at Penn State and Billy took over from there. We are approximately an hr and a half from good old Milford.. wooo wooo! I think its about time we all get out of this car…. 32 hrs of stiffness, anxiety, & homesick.. Oh and ps. Our AC decided to cut out too! But through it all, the hills & plains, valley & deserts…there aint no mountain high enough, no river low enough to keep us drifters apart! Guys, it has been quite the ride, experience, and privilege to have you by my side during our journey… I will hold onto all the memories & never will I forget that one summer the Durango drifters romped around the country! Thanks for making it happen! Love you all! & will def miss waking up next to you guys each morning, I will miss the “I got first showers,” the sardine canned Durango, the laughs, and most of all YOU GUYS!

pps. This is a sneak attack home to surprise the rents… Amy just told her mom we were in Kansas, but really we are on I-81… she plans to jump out of her bedroom closest when she walks in her room to put her slippers on… (craccckerrrrjacccck)

ppps. So cobra calls his mom and says hey I’m in Kansas as were on 84, and says yeahhh were going Mountain biking tomorrow…. (I know in Kansas, the home of flatness.. he’s brilliant too) and then were heading down to NC to visit Amy’s coach…I won’t be home til Wednesday. That’s cobra for you!

I wont be getting home until we make our rounds … dropping off Amy, cobra, and a surprise visit to Casey’s (Billy’s girlfriend, for all you who don’t know).

LUCKKYYY MEEEE,! Must be nice to be chauffeured.

Forever young,
tric

Colorado xo

Coloradoo xo

Red dirt road.

Uncle Myron’s at last. (Amy’s great uncle, who is probably the coolest cowboy who ever walked this earth). We trucked through the night to reunite with our home sweet cabin tucked peacefully about half a football field away from the ranch. No cabin fever here. It was all fixed up for us and touched with love by Aunt Janine. ( great Aunt, who is the most in shape 50 year old I will probably ever meet, still whooping us youngin’s on the Manitou incline—I will explain in a few). It was about 2 am by the time we settled and tucked ourselves in. We sure did get our 5am wake up call, COCKA DOOODLE DOOOOO, but all chose to pay no heed to it and rolled over to catch more shuteye. Although, Amy set her alarm for 8:30 and 8:35 (she always sets two, because if she snoozes the first one without setting another one she will undoable sleep right through it), to try catch Aunt Janine & Uncle Myron before they headed to work. The rest of us started stirring around 10:30 ish and headed down to east some “eggs in a basket”, made with love by Amy. Yes, if you all were wondering what “eggs in a basket” is (don’t worry I was just informed as well). But its quite delicious, it’s a pretty complex dish… a piece of bread, cut a hole out of the center..(with your teeth or the circumference of a cup) plop an egg in the hole and fry it sunny side up). Children under 13… do not try this at home without parental supervision. Anyhow, we than all frolicked around the pasture, collected the chicken eggs, fed the horses, fooled around on the ATV for a bit. Billy fervently wanted jump on a horse and ride it bare back but we forewarned him not to all we needed was him to be bucked off a 1400 lb brawny black beauty.

Cowgirl up!
And then we decided to do a little saddle horseback riding ourselves. We called a near by place and giddy up we went riding. Cowgirl up! We hit the happy trails and trotted. It was pretty much Billy’s first time riding & same with Cobra’s. I was a beginner too, (except for last July when I rode a mule for 6hrs and got horse burn and swamp ass galore). And Amy she circled intermediate on the contract, (could have guessed right? She’s always outdoing us) Kidddinggg… she has rode a handful of times. WHOAA! But since she checked intermediate she was dealt with Kane, (the horse with the attitude) she handled his reins like a cowgirl though, except when the Kane trots… the little girl side of her comes out again, “Guys, how aren’t you pissing your pants!” And then laughs uncontrollably. When our trail ride came to an end, we brought em’ back to the carrel and hurried home for Uncle Myron’s famous cooking! A pork dinner. More like a feast! Tender pork, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, salad, sprinkled with the thickest cowboy accent, “ It’s all ready now, come & eat.” Did I mention he is the coolest cowboy ever? And boy, did we eat. Especially Cobra, who slapped on at least a half of dozen pieces of pork in his plate. But, what do you expect he’s a cobra. After dinner, we digested ourselves with a ride through the 11-mile canyon much thanks to Aunt Janine. Pure Gorgeous it was. And now back to the Manitou incline part above, once we returned Amy & headed back up to the cabin and hit the hay, knowing we had to wake up a 430 am to tackle the dreadful MANITOU INCLINE. The boys chatted with Uncle Myron for a bit down at the ranch, and followed us not long after.

Stairway to Hell

So for those who aren’t familiar with the Manitou incline… Google it now, but its basically it’s a 1 mile of hell steep rising up to 2000 ft in altitude on 2800 railroad ties. :) So we needed our rest, mentally and physically. Last year, Amy & I took on this same challenge and were hoping to beat our times. (mine, 1 hr and 27 min & Amy 57 min) As for Aunt Janine, her able-body faithfully masters this task weekly with a jaw-dropping time of any where in the mid thirty’s. She’s a pistol. COCK A DOOODLE DOOOO, but this time its Amy’s cell phone alarm, at 4:23 am, yes another one was set at 4:27 and that’s when Amy & I rolled out of bed in misery to put on our incline gear an scurried down to the ranch for peanut butter on toast (supposedly the right nutrients for this hike). With my eyes barely open I scarffed it down and filled up my camelback. You’re probably wondering where the boys are huh? They are still comfy- cozy in bed. But hold up, waiiiiitttt a minute, a text comes through from Billy, “did you guys leave yet.” And in time he jumps on the quad and we greet him in the driveway with his orange and 3 cookies. Cobra, is still in a coma, not liking the idea of a 430 am wake up call followed by the hike to hell. So therefore, he continued to dream. The rest of us, including Whit (Amy’s cousin) ventured off to Manitou Springs, home of the incline. It was a bit cold, but that faded quickly after the first couple steps of the hike. Aunt Janine & Billy neck to neck for most of the time took the lead, followed by Amy in the distance, Whit behind her, and well for me last…Because if your not first your last… humming Miley Cyrus’ the climb… wiping the sweat of brow, talking to myself in the third person, “come on Tric, keep digging.” And I dug. I wasn’t giving up for the world. A few hands and knees crawls later I heard from the top “Come onn tric, almost there, as the rest of them were cheering me on…. And I clocked in at 51 minutes on the nose!!!!! 36 minutes of improvement from the previous year,,,wooo woo! Mustve been my membership at the gym.. or… And for the other’s Aunt Janine finished in 35 minutes, Billy next with 37, followed by Amy with 45 min, & Whit with 48! Butttttt, I was rewarded with the most improved player! I didn’t get a trophy though, but we all did get a victory picture at the top. And then it was time for the trek down the switchbacks, my busted hip isn’t a fan of downhill jogs so myself or hip wasn’t the happiest of campers. And there she was, glowing in her lit up circular light…STARBUCKS…. we treated ourselves to & hugged and thanked Janine as she went off to work. It was only about 8 ish and I already hiked a mile up and about 4 miles down…so that’s what it feels like to wake up in the crack of dawn. It felt like lunchtime. We drove back to the middle of no where lake George, and fixed ourselves some of Uncle Myron’s famous pancake mix with strips of bacon to accompany it. Mmmm another delicious feast! If your wondering about Cobra, he is still up at the cabin… sleeping the day away..! It’s a beautiful morningg!!!!

keep climbing,
tric.xo

Day 34 to Day 36: Moab, UT

I never thought that it was possible to spend SO MUCH money yet live so simply. We spent the past three nights in Moab, UT – the Mecca of outdoor sports – forgoing showers, electricity, running water, and toilets in order to take advantage of the area’s resources. After a few short stops in Bryce NP, we pulled up to Moab’s Adventure Center to find out our options – rock climbing, canyoneering, kayaking, rafting, skydiving, and off-roading. It ALL sounded intriguing, but we had decisions to make considering our scanty wallets and time constraints. Kris (our scavenger secretary) had pre-booked a river trip on the Colorado River for the 28th, and after some realistic calculations we figured we could finagle ONE more adventure...There wasn’t much to discuss – we unanimously decided to go ahead with our original plan to rent a few quads and romp the canyons. We could pay out of our butts and rent for a half day (5 hours) or pay out of our butts plus $20 and keep em for an entire 24 hours. We went with the latter, and undoubtedly got our moneys worth. (You’d be proud, Momma ☺) We spent a solid 12 HOURS riding an upwards of 80 miles through desert trails, over sand dunes and up the sides of mountains. The whole experience was ideal. I was due for a little alone time, and although we were riding together, it was a great time to refuel, refresh and reflect…and it didn’t hurt that we were surrounded by some of the most beautiful views.

We spent that evening and the previous at a primitive campsite in the backwoods with nothing but a fire ring. I’m sure you could imagine the stench emanating from our bodies after two days in 100+ degree weather without showers and the film of dirt on every inch of us after 12 hours of riding through the desert…sooo we finally sucked it up and PAID for a campsite so we could wash up. It was either that or pay 5 bucks for a shower at the Shell station. The boys are famous for dropping 5-10 bucks on showers, but us little ladies like to rough it every so often…either that or we’re just crazy cheap. Maybe a combination of the two.

MOJITOS, SKUNKS & BATS
That night we enjoyed a three-hour dinner at Eddie McStiff’s – a local restaurant that was advertising $6 mojitos. Tric had just endured a solid week of “sobriety” and after a forty and a Gatorade/Parrot Bay concoction back at the campground, she excitedly asked our waitress, “How are the mojitos?!” With equal excitement, she answered, “DELICIOUS!”….. “I actually had one when I got to work ☺” We started to wonder if ONE was an understatement when tables came and went as we waited for our food. In the meantime, Kyle was running back to the campground to grab his ID because the mojito deal was just too good to be true. Upon his return we had a very deep philosophical discussion about our generations’ superior kids’ television in comparison to todays’. Nothing holds a candle to Guts, Are You Afraid of the Dark, Legend of the Hidden Temple, Doug, The Wild Thornberrys, David the Knomb, Hey Arnold, Rugrats, and Figure It Out. On account of our late food, our waitress comped us 10% of the bill which according to Tric made her $6 mojito $3. I smiled and kindly informed her that 10% off of $6 was 60 cents making her mojito $5.40. That’s ALMOST $3. Good attempt, T.

We walked back to the campground around 11:30pm and decided to use the restroom before we made our way back to the cheaper tent sites that were a solid 5-minute walk from the bathroom. We assumed the boys had finished up before us, so we began the walk back. We actually made it back despite the fact that we had to go down a stairwell and over a bridge in sheer darkness, but we DID end up taking a baby detour when we saw a skunk scurry across our path. We busted our butts back to the campsite and took refuge in the tent. Two nights before, we had a similar run in with some wildlife. As I led the way to our primitive campsite that was nestled under a huge Lion King-looking tree, across another creek, I spotted a pair of eyes in the tall grass. After the reading the Moab guide that day and seeing MOUNTAIN LIONS and BOBCATS listed in the local mammals, I held up and asked everyone else if they saw what I saw. Tric assured us that she saw the same thing and it was just a bat, and we all kind of shoved each other forward, shimmying like a four-person unit until we broke loose and hussled towards the tent.

MAN OVERBOARD!
We woke up around 6:30 this morning in order to give us enough time to get the Durango to a shop before our rafting adventure. Oh yeah, about that…We cracked our left roter somewhere along the way. I didn’t hear it till we were hauling our four ATVs back and forth from the shop to the trailhead, but Billy says it started before that. I guess he would know best since Tric and I have driven a total of 18 hours this entire trip. It would be the Durango’s 4th trip to the shop in our 35-day adventure. I guess that’s what happens when you drive 8,000 miles in a month.

It was 7:32am and we were supposed to meet for rafting at 7:45am meaning we’d have to run about a mile and a half in 13 minutes. Totally doable…but I’m kind of over timed runs, so we called the rafting company and they scooped us up just in time. We got on the mint green school bus with about 25 other people which included 3 of the most outrageous/chill people I’ve ever met in my 23 years walking this earth – Collin, Danny and Brian. Collin was a Massachusetts-native who skipped around the U.S. for a few years till he started his rafting gig about 5 years ago. He takes a 3-month vacay in South America every summer and while in Moab, he lives out his 70’s van. Tric and I smiled at eachother as I nudged her to turn around to find him brushing his teeth from he back of the raft and he couldn’t wait to get in the water to get his “bath.” He still rocked an old school flip phone and probably lives one of the most fulfilling lives. A Renaissance-man – he does it all: kayaks past alligators in Costa Rica; hikes the entire Appalachian Trail in six and a half months; and plans to base jump any chance he gets. I’m sure he’s chockfull of stories, but we didn’t want to pry too much.

Unfortunately, Danny (a Noah-from-the-Notebook look-alike), lead the other paddle boat so we didn’t get too much dirt on him, but from our 30-second conversation on the bus, he grew up about an hour from my birthplace in Jersey and his brother used to work for a pencil factory until it went under and now he works as a clown, making balloon hats and puppies. Brian rowed the oar raft, and laughed uncontrollably at just about anything he said. His laugh is like that of an evil pirate and we referred to his raft as the evil pirate ship the entire time.

We started out “party boat-style” with all three boats tied together, and the trip started out smooth. We only hit a few baby rapids before we stopped for lunch, got our safety talk, separated the boats, and headed for the class fours. After each major rapid we would paddle our way to a safety eddy which were sometimes difficult to get into considering the strong current. The guides had bets going…for every eddy their raft DIDN’T make it into, they owed a the others a 30-pack. As we approached each rapid, Collin would give us our plan of attack and then communicate our paddle strokes as we were fighting through. As we approached “The Doom Room,” he went into very detailed instruction and explained that if we didn’t execute it properly, we could easily fall in or get the boat stuck in the relentless swirling waters. He told us of one time where he had abandon ship and hike out of there because once you’re in there, there really isn’t much sense trying to get out. It’s virtually impossible. If you’re lucky, there is a little area where you can pull yourself out of the water and onto dry land. I knew that this would be a pretty scary one, and that it was, but we did exactly what was asked it made it through with smiles and laughter. We pulled off to an eddy to watch the other two come through. The oar boat came crashing through and kept everybody aboard, but the other paddleboat wasn’t so lucky. We saw five people get thrown from the boat and get sucked under. We saw at least a few pop up out of the water only to get thrashed around on the rocks and plummeted by their raft. I sat there in disbelief; it all seemed pretty unreal. The raft got out of the water tornado and came rushing towards us with three people floating pretty close behind. We were relieved to see them safely pulled into the raft, but as the guides communicated with hand signals through the loud rushing waters, they held up two fingers and screamed out, “TWO! THERE’s TWO IN THE ROOM!” My heart was in my stomach and I immediately did the only thing I felt like I COULD do at that point – pray. Our guide instructed the boys to tie us to a rock, and ran up the mountainside to hike over and around to where the two people were last seen. We stared up river in an eerie silence trying to decipher whether the other two were out of the water. Finally Brian came down in the oar boat to tell us they had both made it out of the water and they were hiking their way back around to us. We clapped and cheered. The relief and emotion that ran through me was overwhelming, and my eyes welled up with tears. I kept thinking if that was Tric, Billy or Kyle, I don’t even know what I would do. Ugh, it still makes my stomach turn. I just THANK GOD that we’re all sitting in this Durango right now on our way to our next stop – Lake George, CO – to see Uncle Myron, Aunt Janine and Whit! ☺ & hopefully Sethy & Jeffy!!

Much love,
A. Hendricks