Barn find.... today

Forgive me, I have been terribly remiss in any updates on happenings, Old Joe, his exploits and the 330 and was unaware of the want to hear more

The floods of 2013 set us back on our ear with complete devastation completely surrounding our home in Lyons CO. One neighbors life was lost and a great many homes completely destroyed as an entire mountain came down what once was a couple of gentle streams you could wade across and not get your knees wet. Two years ago now, clean up is far from done, rebuilding really just starting but the memories and the lessons..... vividly clear for a lifetime!

The stories of those days trapped in the valley with all the roads washed away, weather not permitting the National Guard Blackhawk and Chinook helicopters to get in for evac.... terrifying for some yet a life changing inspiration for myself. I saw real terror in the eyes of friends and neighbors, not scared but instead a near certain they would not make it even when not in harms way. For most in my Valley, evac was not an option as we have livestock that needs to be tended to daily. The law was evac ONLY, with no return.... that is until some "deals" were cut with the Sherriff and National Guard... while orders from the FEMA were ignored... some priceless stories there! How a community came together in the most difficult of times.... I can only state it changed me in a way I find hard to put to words other than "inspirational".

Trapped in the Valley with Brian Keegan with us..... only those that know this brilliant Ferrari parts expert personally can understand the impact of having that comedian present in the midst of a "Biblical Event"..... two years later folks still talk and ask about him! Of course, always looking out for a good friend I tell them he recently identified a new method to split the atom while doing missionary work in the jungles of Guiana.... "No, really, he did!".... some bought that line, he will have some Splainin to do when he returns! It would be fun to have Brian jump in to recount those days... maybe one day he will. The remainder of 2013 was simply nothing more than trying to clean up and catch up on the results of the floods

2014....... well, that was spent trying to put together the purchase of our new building, saying my final goodbyes to my beloved Father ... and dealing with the onset of Alzheimer with Old Joe. Never changing, Joe changed life as they knew it in the retirement home Jason and I got him set up in. I cant count the times we would visit and be greeted at the door by Joe in his Boxers, no shirt and some old gal hiding under the sheets as we were invited in.... Really, No Shlt... at 88... and he invites us in with the old gal hiding under the sheets a few feet away!

About mid year Joe started dealing with bouts of memory loss and flash backs from the War, right about the same time as getting a terrible eye infection that put him in the hospital for a number of weeks. While in the hospital the retirement home decided they didn't want him back so Kris and I were faced with finding him a new place that better suited his current conditions. Never a man to pass up opportunity, I will state with absolute certainty, if EVER in need of a hospital stay, Boulder Foothills, 3rd floor.... how in the world did Joe get put on a floor packing with drop dead beautiful staff? Being who he is, Joe sucked up and went so far as to propose to more than one.

It was at this time the diagnosis of Alzheimer's was made and it was determined that Joe would need to be put in a locked up facility for his own good. Kris scoured Boulder and the surrounding communities to find a place that didn't look like a remake of 'One Flew over the CoCo's Nest' but alas, there were no beds available at any higher end facilities.

Oh yes.... it gets better... more as time permits..... weekends, even Holiday ones are all spent putting the final touches on our new building. This one will be special because there is a plan in place to sneak Joe out of lock up so he can visit his 330 and the new building housing it. Memorial Day... its time to spend some quality time with an old Marine who's days are now numbered. I have it worked out with the sweet gal at front desk where she will look the other way until I am out of the parking lot with Joe, and then she will inform the floor staff I took him out for a walk about for the day. Here's to hopes the staff doesn't put a APB out on me this weekend!

Nothing has changed.... when dealing with Joe its Always better to ask forgiveness because one will never be given permission in any dealings surrounding him. Why could this be? I had to have many long conversations with the administrative staff regarding what defines "Consensual" and if one that is in a lock up facility is even able to consent...... consent to what you ask? Hey... its Bird Dog Joe.... what the hell do you think he's after.... now at 89! Oh yes, the stories have not ended, its just a matter of the story teller trying to heal and recoop from a few Forest Fires followed by Biblical level floods, finding a new home for Joe... and buying a building!

 

Good on you Mitchell, Best Wishes to your Mother! As "Family" we must never forget who was there unconditionally for us throughout our younger years. As you state, it is an easy obligation and one that is rewarding to a point we do not immediately understand.

My Father, Bill... he did it 'right', right up to the end! What should have been an incredibly somber and difficult time in hospice, instead became a wonderful celebration of a life well lived with achievements that will stand as the high bar mark for generations to come. Even in his final days Dad taught me lessons that redefine my direction in life..... even in matters relating to Joe. "The Greatest Generation".... one would be hard pressed to make a sound argument against that incredible title!

Thank You Mario. Upbeat... you bet, especially after what life has handed and shown me in the last few years! One redefines what Real problems are by the current and recently past events, were. Hell, I thought I had 'problems' but learned I had nothing but minor challenges after witnessing what 'problems' really look like!

That stated, when I hear my name called on the intercom with a call from first the Retirement Home Staff and later the Secured Nursing Home staff.... lets say there are a time or two or 20 where I let out a 'why me?' Old Joe doesn't fit the mold of an 'Easy Keeper', he is anything but that and the staff of these facilities are used to a mix between laid back and just taking nourishment.

Not long back I had my day cut short and was called to Joe's latest home. I had a long conversation with the Managing Doctor in Charge and one of his older Nursing Staff, regarding Joe and his "Sexual Tendencies at his advanced age". Challenged with finding a proper description of this particular Nurse... lets just say she was past the stage of hot flashes and was working real hard on the title of Prude. The Dr was a younger man in his early 40's I suspect, a very good listener of both sides of a discussion and one who was comfortable taking a quite moment juggling his thoughts on subject matter, prior to responding. I cant begin to tell you how refreshing that Dr's personality trait was when faced with this Water Tight Nurse spouting to no end about "how disgraceful Joe's thoughts were". On and on she went until one moment when she unexpectedly stopped her rant, looked at me and asked "what do you think about this disgraceful situation?".

"What do I think?" I took a lesson learned from how the Dr, wise well beyond his years, had handled the situation to this point, and took a quite moment to compose my thoughts ..... and a reply that wouldn't express what I wanted to say at the moment. "You ask what should be a very difficult question to answer but I feel I must sum it all up with....Joe still Bird Dogging at 89... and able to.... He gives a feeling of HOPE to the rest of us old guys!"

Some 5 seconds after finishing my reply a young nurse in the room, one who was working on a computer on a completely unrelated task, let out an incredibly loud snort followed by uncontrollable laughter and darted from the room in near tears..."I have to go to the bathroom." The incredibly composed Dr who showed little emotion to this point, only very calculating and intense focus on all points of the subject... "Ah SHlT!".....while wiping a tear from his cheek and trying to regain his composure he could only state "where do we go from here... what else can be said other than I hope they close the door behind them!" Needless to say Nurse Granite Cheeks was less than impressed with both me, and my response. There is sound reason that I sucked up with the receptionists and need to now plan covert actions to sneak Joe off the second floor lock up!

I found Joe in the cafeteria where he was seated in a wheel chair just blankly staring at his food. Walking down the hall towards him we caught each others eyes and he just beamed to see a familiar face. Lunch time was spent with many of the nursing staff and a number of the residents reviewing pictures of Joe's 330 in its new resting spot at our new shop. I fought a hard battle for many years, still have managed to refuse having a cell phone... but Jenni and Jeffrey finally wedged an ipad in my hands and taped it in place. I know.... I KNOW... many will think the world is coming to an end now but..... Joe, his neighbors and the staff sure enjoyed the pictures! "Are you telling me some of the stories Old Joe tells here are actually true?!" asked a young assistant. "More than you can imagine.... Far more!"
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It is a question I have asked myself countless times over the years since meeting Joe, Guy. Why? How? WTH? Joe is a man able to evoke emotions that I didn't know existed inside me. As a business owner we are sometimes faced with having to make decisions that are terribly difficult, ones where its simply better to walk away than continuing down a path wrought with problems. Sadly, sometimes those decisions include people that simply require so much effort that the frustrating time spent with them cheats a host of others that require far less.... while returning far more. Joe..... he most assuredly fits the prior category but is never short on the return.

Why was this crazy old man brought into my life at a time when things were going smoothly and relatively well? Was it ever as much about a car as it was about an old man in need of a leg up? Damn sure I am not smart enough to answer the questions but without a doubt I can say the patience and focus his escapades have taught me in these few short years, came about at a time when I would need those traits honed to a skill set.

I awoke this morning a bit earlier than most, my normal work day starts at 3AM so I am able to deal with emails from Europe. Today started at 2AM with a muscle spasm that shoots you out of bed like a 10 yr old on Christmas Morning, a vivid reminder of our now near completed move of the business into our new building, and the results that had on a used up body. Earlier in this story I had written about the shear terror I experience when having to confront Dr's, needles and knives. The words "Good thing your not a Horse" were spoken once again as it was proclaimed "Congratulations! You started by herniating discs 5-6 and have now proceeded to include 4-5 and 3-4, while bulging 2 others", followed by some indistinguishable mumbling of which I was only able to pick up "watta Dip".

Early mornings in the foothills are a wonderfully quite and tranquil time when one can reflect on seemingly senseless things of the past and what the day might bring. The tranquility is only broken when the Rooster down the road sees my desk light turn on and figures its time to awaken the whole Valley, this time pre 3AM. It will be a race to see if the rancher puts it on the dinner table, dispatched with a bull whip, or I get new batteries in the night vision scope and eliminate most any trace of it. Still getting sidetracked, yup....nothing has changed here... so much for the patience theory!

My extra hour of seemingly quiet time allowed me to re read and reflect on many of the escapades and memories Joe has left me with to date. Post 69 showing "the trailer from Hell", followed by #92. Now so memorable because those quite moments I didn't fully understand at the time, now come to light. It was at that time Joe shared his wishes regarding how and where he would be laid to rest.... why? No way could he ever have planned one day I would become his Guardian where these wishes became Kris and my responsibility! Post 155 with a picture of Dad and Joe... and the incredibly insightful guidance Dad shared with both Jen and I regarding Joe and the Quad 330. A reminder of the Fires, followed by the Flash Floods of 2012 when I was so concerned about Joe's well being, were just a prelude to what we lived in 2013 with the 5000 yr floods we were in the epicenter of. Right down to #268 where I was remembering escapades of our time in a rental house we lived in while building our current home, now but a few blocks from the site of our new shop, where I just last week met up with the same Cop once again.

You might have pegged it Guy, this might never been about a Car, that was only a bit part in a far greater story that is yet, far from over. A lowly quad 330 without Joe, that would have been Sawzall fodder before Jenni even spoke her opinion on the matter. No, there is something much greater to this than I am likely to ever understand. Life lessons... taught by a cagey old coot that couldn't have just stumbled into my life by chance. A mere fraction of the story has yet been told, and life continues on. My Horse got off easy, he tipped over from a heart attack in January, replaced by an evil eyed, 4 yr old mare that Kris found, thus cementing the theory she still believes the term life insurance is prime for a payout..... sucker! Sneaking Old Joe out today... I just hope he never saw "Weekend at Bernies"... I would not put it past him to plan this out! Talk about having some Splainin to do... now who would need the leg up?!

 

Memorial Day is supposed to be a remembrance of those that gave the ultimate sacrifice, but I have two of these very special Veterans who's days are too numbered, today was their day, November 11th is too far off. Bitter/Sweet are the words that describe yesterdays very special visits. I am going to use up some space with this update.. and feel no apology is needed.

When arriving at Joe's facility Kris, our Son Wil and myself went up to the second floor and rang the bell to enter into the residents area. Floor 2 is also a lock up but one with a higher level of interaction between the residents, albeit rare, actual conversation and an occasional snails pace card game happens on this floor. These are folks who have the ability to answer questions asked of them but only do when they feel in the mood. Ranging in age from early 40's to well into their 90's, these are the residents I shared a lunch with on Mothers Day, reviewing the photo's on my ipad while Jen and Niki pampered Kris prior to allowing me to join them for lunch.

We were met at the door by a lovely young staff member who, when announced we were here to visit Joe, informed us Joe was moved to the first floor. Wil didn't see anything exceptional with that news but for Kris and myself... our hearts sank. Joe started out on the first floor, we were well aware of the conditions there and lobbied a great deal in earlier months to have him moved to an area where he would have friends he could have conversations with. First floor is an area where conversation simply doesn't happen, blank stares are the rule down here. It's not a quite area, the wonderful young staff members are constantly talking loudly with every member on the floor in an effort to stimulate some type of response that would indicate they were being heard.

With a heavy heart I rang the bell on the first floor door, somewhat frightened by what we would find, and was again greeted by a young gal who was all smiles, was happy to hear Joe had visitors...but you could see it in her eyes, she was hopeful we would not be distraught by visiting with a person unable to respond in any recognizable manner.....that sweet young lady... its OK, she just didn't know Joe like we did!

Once again while walking down the hall our eyes met, Joe once again beamed a wide grin but his eyes instantly darted from me to Kris, always the Ladies Man, those two have something very special... well beyond what I will ever attempt to understand or describe. "HEY... what are you doing just sitting there, dont you have something to fix or Lunch to grill?". I thought that gal was going to fall to the floor... "Im just hanging around, they dont seem to need any help here, right now". Joe has conversations when he feels it is merited, he lives life on his terms, not by doing what is expected of him, but by doing what he wants to do.

Months back while cleaning out Joe's apartment at the Retirement home (yet another story for another day), Kris and I packed up boxes of old photos that were left knee deep throughout his apartment. As stated early in this story, Joe never threw anything away, read that as NOTHING! Personal photographs were intermixed with pages of the Lexus Owners Manual from the car we gave him, covered with penned in notations and questions to "ask Dave", receipts and installation instructions from Christmas lights from the 70's, his Pilots License from the 60's, his tobacco rationing card from 1944... When I say nothing was ever thrown away, I can state that with certainty after dealing with the trailers in the woods on his property, his log home on the mountain, and now his apartment, the earlier two situations being in search of the missing parts of the Quad 330. Sorting / cleaning up is a 'piece by piece' endeavor, handfuls or arm fulls simply dont apply.

Boxes of photo's accompanied our visit yesterday, ranging from what I suspect were the mid to late 1920's, through Joe's time on the island of Morotai in 44-45 as a Marine Radio Operator in the thick of the shlt (a subject of conversations between Joe and my Father, as my Father Bill was a Belly Turret Gunner on a B-24, stationed on the same island, at the same time, while on missions to Truk, Borneo and Balikapan. Dad credited with those very Marines that Joe was a part of, with keeping the aircrews alive on an island still occupied with enemy forces.... chance meeting my ass.... How? Why? WTH?), later his time in China just following the War, right up to photo's only a decade or so old.

Not a single photo was I able to show Joe and stump him for a name, check that, there was One! His Horse "Roary" that he rode to school on the plains of Kansas, that answer came instantly. When I showed him a photo of his Mother and Father on the front porch of their home... I hit Joe with "what was their dog's name", a fine looking Cocker Spaniel on his mother's lap, from back at a time when Joe still sported peach fuzz on his chin. Frustrated, after some 15 seconds Joe looked down and said "I just cant remember" in a very distraught tone. "Ginger" I stated... Joe shouts out "That's it!... Hey, how the hell did you know that?" he asks sternly. "I cheated, I read the back of the photo". "You dirty dog" he shouts... followed by a bout of laughter that became Highly contagious to all the folks surrounding us in wheel chairs. 'Cant' talk?' 'Can't respond in any manner?' Nope, they simply didn't know Joe or his abilities to change the environment surrounding him. "Thank You for Coming... and Please come back soon... NO cheating next time!" were his words as we walked away.... the laughter started all over again.

Lucille and Bob were our next stop on the way home. Now into their 90's, these two 'Tough as Nails' country folks own the section of land adjoining our own, 600 acres where they still live alone, literally with the very base of the Rocky Mountains a few feet from the Log Home Bob built back in the early 50's, with the highest population of mature Cougar in the area, according to the DOW. Not a single spot where a smallest flake of paint shows on a stunning old Log Home, the Hummingbird feeders are always full and the porch swept immaculately clean. Tough? At 93? Ya Think? Brian Keegan, Kris and myself looked after these two fine people in the days following our Floods in 2013, until the day we were finally able to evacuate them to safe surroundings.

Bob is a survivor of the Battle of the Bulge, a proud member of the 101st Airborne "Screaming Eagles", himself a member who helped hold the town of Bastogne, against all odds. A man with those credentials... he just made Brian and I feel 'needed' in those days of the flood, he didn't need any help, he just needed to have a direction pointed to him. I feel compelled to tell Bob and Lucille's story but... as with so many other things related to Joe, they are just a bit part, but a Very Special part of Yesterday none the less.

"Bitter" only in that what once was a strapping young Marine and Army Air Assault soldier, those who 'owned' every situation they found himself immersed in, now both battling the same dreadful condition. Damn this Alzheimer's, it is affecting folks that are very dear to me!

"Sweet" ... no need to waste words or space here...
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Just cause I can.... none having anything to do with Vintage Ferrari's or any subject matter proper to this section. Three photo's very special to Joe:

The view off the front deck of his hand built log house in the mountains, a special trip to Vegas with his second favorite car, and his Horse "Roary" with his Aunt posing atop it
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Everyone here would do the same if/when put in a position where there are folks in need, on that I have no question. What is happening here is simply a matter of those successes, and failures, being told at a time when we all find ourselves searching for signs that everything will work out in the end.... what ever 'everything' is. I find myself fascinated by how life seems to swirl around and bring people together for reasons unknown at the moment, but in ways that make everyone involved, better from the meeting.

Guy's question regarding "Joe being the find".... that one really sticks with me and has been the basis of some mighty deep soul searching, it was a brilliant question. Jason and I would hand off to one another when ever frustration got to a level where we needed a breather or we needed to refocus our attention on our own families for a short bit. Joe came into my life and taught me patience and perseverance, on a level I would not require until we were faced with the floods in 2013.

Thinking back to that morning when we received a reverse 911 call at 3:00 AM, I can remember immediately going down a check list in my mind. Joe and Jenni both held high ground, Joe in south Boulder at his retirement apartment and Jen a bit further south... they will be fine. Wil and Niki were out east on the plains a few miles apart from one another, a dangerous area but one surrounded by flat land where escape by float boat was possible if required. Its funny how fast the mind works when tasked with matters of paternal instinct, the above scan took a mere second or two but what was odd..... I gained one extra child in the quick mental scan..... Joe. Jenni, Niki and Wil are all the kind that if given a fingernail file and a tooth pick, will build a fully stocked shopping mall by days end, those three I needn't worry about. Joe was safe in his 7th floor apartment and I remember that being an incredibly comforting feeling at the moment.

By 3:15 AM I was already dressed and out the door in the miserable Jeep that Kris loves so much, to see if the commotion of the 911 call really had any merit to those of us living in our Box Canyon. It immediately became apparent that the 3 AM call was well intentioned but by the time it was made our valley was already cut in half with no way out for those in the northern half. A knee deep stream was already 150 yards wide carrying an untold number of stripped bare, 70 foot lodge pole pines that were now battering rams to anything in their path.... escape from Blue Mountain was already impossible.

Being closer to the mouth of the box canyon we still had a few options open to us but only if the myriad of old culverts in our dirt roads would hold, those allowing us an exit to the main road into town or heading up the mountain to Estes Park. As the culverts under the dirt roads were already over tasked and the various little streams already over flowing the roads, a wait for daylight would be the only way to accurately access what options were available to us.

For years I swore and cussed about that damned Jeep Wrangler that is Kris' pride and joy, today.... I thought better and held my tongue. Through my collage days in Minnesota my main mode of transportation was a Triumph TR-3 with side curtains for windows and a man eater hand crank through the radiator to assist the Lucas starter that was more of a feel good electrical piece, than a functional one. "Side Curtains"... read that as a sheet of thin plastic, shattered by the bitter cold of the Norwegian Rivera, and held together with clear packaging tape in an attempt to allow some degree of side vision. Just try getting a date in a MN winter when your driving a car with a heater output that pales to a mouse fart and where starting it proved a combined effort of said date pushing the starter button at the exact same time as I pulled the hand crank connected to the crankshaft .... via what was supposed to be a one way slip clutch. Owning a British lump in MN, one learns very quickly that the thumb, that special digit that sets intelligent humans apart from lesser evolved animals... belongs on the right side of the crank, along with the rest of the fingers!

Now I own a FLIPPIN Jeep with the same damn side curtains... and the same heater, with the aerodynamics of an oversized chicken coop.......oppps.... I seem to find myself ranting due to past memories of frostbite and numerous broken bones in my right arm and hand.... Today that miserable Jeep would prove a life saver, not in a general term but a literal one. Sept 10th, 2013 would prove a life changer for most all involved.

 

I will be tellin 'truths' that he will have no choice but to respond to!

 

What normally was a dry creek bed behind the house, now was a 20 foot wide, 8 ft deep gully washer that led down to the first of 3 culverts in the road between our house and paved road. The dually truck had to be the first out to the paved road in the event we had to evacuate the horses to yet higher ground. An important lesson was learned from an old rancher just a year ago when the fires bore down on us, a can of Banner Red spray paint was loaded in the truck as a last resort. Banner red was a nice contrast color on both my Paint Gelding and Kris' white Mare, our cell phone number would be spray painted on the side of the horses in the event we had to cut them loose to fare for themselves. "Last resort" because I saw the horses as the most viable way for our own exit if no roads existed. Kris and my own definition of 'getting away' on the weekends is to drive in the mountains until the road ended and then saddle the horses, scabbard a small bore rifle to provide for dinner, set GPS coordinates and go get lost for a weekend. It would be a long ride to Estes Park on horseback, through some rugged terrain, but doable if needed, the truck was parked up at the mail boxes on high ground.

Grabbing a cup of coffee and drying out from the truck placement, the TV was flashing breaking news that our Town of Lyons had been over run by flood waters and was now an island with no way in or out. Brian and I loaded climbing ropes, hand winches and shackles in the Jeep and set out to see what the conditions were on the main road running between Lyons and Estes Park. By the time we reached hwy 36 the water was some 6 ft deep blocking an exit uphill to Estes and the road to Lyons... that was starting to disappear into the river. Standing on the wood arched bridge leading to the little riverside community of Apple Valley, we met with John and Gary, two of the finest neighbors anyone could ever wish for. John was Boulder PD and Gary was a lead Construction Supervisor, both men who are in complete control of any situation they find themselves in. John had already attempted the Apple Valley exit route and when he says it is impassable, one need not question the words. Gary jumped in the Jeep with Brian and myself and we gave him the News update we had just watched prior to meeting on the bridge. The three of us agreeing we needed to have a meeting with the few neighbors that might venture out, a plan was hatched where a piece of white melanine board from the back of the truck was fashioned into a sign placed at the bridge and another at the mailboxes, suggesting a "Meeting at 2 PM" so we could take a head count and see if anyone was missing.

A 2 PM meeting gave us 5 hours to check on our immediate neighbors needs and meet up with Gary again to explore finding a way over the mountain into town if the need arose. The last news before the power went out was Lyons had evacuated to the Elementary School on high ground and one National Guard Medic had made it in before the remainder of the Guard convoy themselves had to be rescued and the rest turned back. Gary stepped out of the Jeep, thus allowing Brian to once again be seated, the last 15 mins was spent curled up in the back of the Jeep sans any seats but nicely padded with dog beds. A quick check in with Kris informed us all Internet, TV, Power and Phones were now lost but the last breaking news update she caught showed the dam upstream of us was at risk of breaking. More ropes, winches, shackles... and just about anything needed to get a Jeep out of a hole, were loaded into Brian's comfortable seating area in the back of the Jeep, on the way back it was evident we were likely to loose our road in a short time and ropes might be needed to cross a ravine to get back to Kris at our house. "Where the Hell are you two going, your not leaving me here alone, unable to get back"! When Kris raises her voice in this manner the next words usually heard is "Yes Dear", she was scared that we would not make it back. Assuring her we were just heading uphill to check on Bob and Lucille, a Salt of the Earth, dearest 90 year old couple living alone on the section of land adjoining ours, she felt better, high ground was 'safe ground'. "BRIAN...." stated sternly in a manner your mother would when you find yourself in deep shlt, "Dont worry Kris, I wont let this doorknob do anything I wouldnt....", "that's not helping me feel warm and fuzzy, BRIAN!"

Met at the door of their beautifully kept, hand build log home Bob put up in the 50's, by Lucy, introductions were made with Brian as we were invited in. Lucy had caught the news before the power went out, she was as up to speed as we were but little frightens folks who have seen and lived through it ALL. "I think we are OK Dave, but if this lasts any longer than tomorrow, we will be in trouble. Bob has only one day left of his Heart Meds and I am out of Oxygen". Lucy had not seen what we did down at the bridge, one Week would be 'optimistic', one Month 'realistic', no meds or oxygen at 6500 feet, at their age....... walking out the door with a promise made to Lucy to return shortly, I waited until we were outside so not to frighten her, "Brian, we have problems!". Brian and I went back down to our house, gathered up a spare generator and while traversing our road once again we found Gary and John with ropes tied around their wastes tied off to near by trees, attempting to clear debris from a raging culvert area and save the road. "Guys, we have a problem....", after telling them of Bob and Lucy's situation, we returned to their home, set up a generator to run the freezer, fridge and one kitchen light, while Brian graciously volunteered to assist Lucy with assembling a swanky flashlight with no instructions. In a matter of just a few minutes sitting at the kitchen table together a magical bond was made, one would have thought Brian and Lucy had known each other for decades! Brian has that way about him, at this very special time one old couple was the better for it, Lucy's new friend would go to great lengths to comfort them in the next few days!

Brian in the back, seated with all types of Jeep extraction gear, now joined by a bolt cutter if we needed to cut a fence down along the way, Gary in the front seat, we set off to find a way into town, over the top of the mountain between us and what we hoped was Oxygen bottles and Heart Meds for Lucy and Bob. I had the steering wheel, Gary the dash grab bar and the roll bar handles, a wonderful gift from Plugzit on his last visit, neither of us seemed to have any problems navigating the rough dirt road leading to the base of the mountain..... Brian on the other hand, looked like popcorn in a hot pan in the back! We had seat belts, Brian had a canvas cloth top to retain him while doing what appeared in the RV mirror to be a finely executed reverse half gainer... I dunno what nonsense he was up to back there, there was free air on all sides of him and his feet were skyward! "Hey you Lunatic, Kris is going to be pissed if you rip her top..."! "What in the HELL are YOU talking about......", it went on this way for what seemed like an hour. An old mining trail led to an over sized game trail, leading to a pasture fence the folks in the original homestead put up for summer grazing, leading to a cow path, that led to one of the rock quarries that made Lyons CO famous with their red sandstone flagstone. Now I knew we could make it near town as this quarry was still active and trucks made it here daily.

At this point I took a poll, "Should we take the long switchback road the trucks have to follow or should we cut some time off and take the shortest path between two points and head straight downhill?" Gary saw no reason to waste gas and time, neither did I... Brian on the other hand, now bloodied and bruised from his gymnastic shananagan's in the back.... "HEY, what about my vote?", as I pointed it down hill in 4wd low. I am not sure if that was a road or just an area washed clean by the torrential rains that led to the floods, I can say it was rough, rugged, insanely steep off camber corners and very slippery.... no way in hell it was a road, it was a washout area too steep for dirt to cling to... and the shortest path to town if both the Jeep and ourselves survived it, too late to turn around now, Gravity was our friend that day!