Camping story 3

Let's see.. Oh here's a memorable camping trip... we used to have a pick up truck that had a camper shell on it. a bed went over the cab of the truck. there was maybe 2 feet of space up there, once you were up there, you weren't going to sit up. Well, dad was driving around in the mountains on dirt road. my sister terry was in the back with me and I think her friend sat up front with dad in the truck. I of course, got in the little bed area above the cab of the truck. Suddenly, the road got really bumpy.. well it used to be a road about a hundred years ago. It was so bumpy that I was going up and down in the bed. Bang, hit the roof.. plop back on the bed. over and over and over again. I'm talking about every second, I was hitting that roof. at first I laughed.. cause ya know, I'm stupid. lol but it got worse, I hit the roof with more force with each bang. momentum, I think. mean while, Terry is standing on one foot, has one foot on cabinet, one hand on another cabinet, and another hand on another cabinet, to keep them closed. I started screaming because I was tired of being the battered ping pong ball, terry was yelling at me to get down and help her (as if I could).. finally, dad stops the truck and we take a break..

But wait, there's more! When we got back in the truck, something was wrong with it. I forgot what but Dad got it started and it sounded wrong but hey, it started which was a good thing because there was not another living soul around for miles, let alone roads.... we drove across a meadow in the mountains and finally came across a big van. There were two guys in it. the one actually sitting in the passenger seat got out to talk to my dad. the other guy had his legs dangling out of the drivers seat door and was basically plastered. lol Dad pops the hood of the truck and gets the tools out of the camper, telling us girls to stay put. The guy who could function started picking up small rocks and hitting his friend and yelling "Vernan!" rock hits the dude who isn't moving. "Vernan, come on man!" another rock hits him, still not moving... "Damn it, Vern! Get out here and help the guy" more rocks thrown at the dude. The more sober guy finally gives up and helps dad fix our truck. We move along leaving the drunks behind and I saw in the window that the guy was still throwing rocks at the other guy. too freakin funny..

after camping, we headed back to civilization. On one of the dirt roads, only one car can go at a time.. so if you hear a honk, that means another car is coming and you have to find a "wide" spot in the road to pull onto so the other car can get by. We start heading down hill on this very steep dirt road. guess what.. our brakes died. Yup.. here's dad, both feet on the emergency brake pedal, he's basically standing on the brakes and rocking back and forth "come on, betsy. you can do it" and I'm sitting next to him holding up a sign that says "NO BRAKES" in the window, alternating eyes closed, peek and see where we are, close eyes again.. waiting for another car to show up on that damn road or we go rolling off the cliff because the we couldn't slow down for the turns...

but as luck would have it, we made it to the bottom of the hill in one piece without seeing another car on the road, the smell of burnt rubber in the air, and everybody shaking...

Yup.. good times.