Fashion, Four-wheeling, and Forces of Nature

 Yesterday morning my Dad and I set out for an epic 4-wheeling adventure.  The torrential rain falls started at the Sheetz two miles from my folks’ house.  We continued on to the county seat before we admitted that Mother Nature (that bitch) had duped us. 

Today we started out similarly.  Wake at 6.  Ready to roll by quarter after.  Check facebook for ten minutes while my Dad to destroys the restroom.  Head to Sheetz for gas, coffee, and sandwiches.  Now Sheetz (for those not familiar) is a special place where the coffee is always fresh and you can buy 31 flavors of jerky.  There are adds for off brand chew and clever turns of words to include the “sh”.  Order a “sh-muffin” while you pump fuel and pick it up inside when you buy your truck nutz.  Sometimes Sheetz isn’t just a convenient stop on the way to somewhere else, sometimes it is the destination.  I know of a couple who goes on dates to Sheetz.  Really.

Yes we are going 4-wheeling, but I am female (for those of you that missed that).  Therefore, occasionally fashion crosses my mind.  Today, for example, I was barreling through the woods and all I could think about was how this

Is so much like this

And how maybe western society has the idea of a burka all wrong!  No one I met on the trails today has a clue if I shaved my legs, or pits.  Not a soul was aware that in the quest to take my hair from purple to platinum there was a road side rest at orange.  It would be totally up to someone to imagine if my arms were toned or if I was smuggling a six pack or a pony keg under my Dad’s denim shirt.  It was kind of fun and really limited the use of sunscreen.

Time to head to the trail head.  I am wearing my Adidas trail runners and before my Dad sets the odometer for the day’s ride, I have soaked my right foot and ankle.  It seems that turning back yesterday was a stroke of combined genius.  The trails were beyond saturated.   Every valley on the path was a river.  Every divot, a pond.  IT WAS AWESOME!  My Dad says at this point that I can feel free to ride any way I like – avoid the water, SCUBA dive – whatever.  I decide to take the trails like a catamaran skimming from one water hole to the next.  Between two particularly well irrigated spots, I became momentarily airborne allowing mass quantities of wet dirt to find sanctuary on my rear.  Yes people, I had mud butt.  It was at this moment that I decided on my goal for the day, “get wet/muddy all the way to the top of my head”.  Turns out this is not hard.  If you take the trails with enough speed, you can get saturated without much difficulty what so ever.    Two miles down, sixty-seven to go and I am the swamp monster.  Four-wheeling rules!

My throttle thumb is a little worse for wear, but I really think the past three weeks of Brazilian Butts may have been all in preparation for this ride.  I am totally not sore even after all those miles.  We will see if that is still a true statement int he morning. 

a special treat for all my (both of my) readers  :)