The journey began without much thought. I began to see how my future trips with AWL would go. I packed the entire car. He was responsible for his bag of clothes. I even packed his kitchen supplies and cooked up some yummy road snacks. I think he forgot underwear or something essential like that. However, after packing EVERYTHING we needed and the slackline and various books AND having somehow been deemed the knower of all things in all other states, I somehow forgot to pack the crash pad so we could boulder (which is climbing smaller stuff with no ropes, hence needing something softish to land on, i.e.. crash pad). I never heard the end of it. ESPECIALLY IN COLORADO.
"Oh look at those cool boulders...wish we had the crash pad."
"I thought we brought the roof rack so we'd have more space for the crash pad in here."
"I can't believe we can't boulder in BOULDER, Co."
(These are samplings that may or may not have been said, but they at least give the sense of what was going on.)
He never wished he had an extra pair of underwear...
Meanwhile, we started our exciting trip! Our first stop: PA! While I wanted to get the heck out of Dodge, it was our solemn duty to remain in PA for one more day. I was okkaaaayyyyy with it, but to be honest, my whirlwind plans were not set in the great state of PA. But, there we were in grand Morris, PA living the simple life. Turns out, it was a pretty cool experience. You see, there happens to be a certain huntin' cabin (you can't say huntING, it's just not the redneck way.) where all the manliest adventures have taken place out in bumblepuck, PA. I was regaled with tales of massive bears practically knocking down the cabin door late at night, A Paul Bunyan type character (AWL) with vein busting muscles splitting the largest logs for the biggest wood pile that could sustain other bearded manly men for the brisk, world ending cold winter ahead, and many other manly tales. To all of this I ooooed and ahhhhhed and fluttered my eyelashes! (Just kiddding, that made me gag just thinking of doing that.)
Upon entering the cabin, which I imagined to be something like a wigwam with dirt floors and tarantulas taking up neighborly residence in the deep dark corners of everything (much like the scene from the one Indiana Jones movie where they are stuck with their elephant in the jungle and bats and pythons and huge bugs OH MY! came at them), I was surprised to find a bunch of lazy boys and couches and quite honestly, with a little swiffer action and some bug spray, one of the roomier, nicer kitchens I've witnessed in the mountains. I mean, it was basically a man cave in the woods. Needless to say I liked it.
So we bunked up in one of the rooms alternating between covering ourselves from the mosquitoes, and kicking off the covers so we could sweat pints instead of buckets and had a good old rustic time at the cabin. Waking early in the morning I had a unique after thought:
"This is a perfect place to murder someone... Is that what is going to happen?!"
"Did he take me here to END my trip instead of BEGIN it?!!?"
I looked around the place, and it seemed a lot less homie. There were all kinds of butchering tools, shovels, axes and a thing outside they used to drain the blood from the deer. There was NO ONE AROUND. I remember the night before looking up in the second floor area where there were lines and lines of old spring mattress beds that looked like a haunted orphanage would have. Maybe he's done this before! And he has a LOT of experience chopping things into little bits...
...Maybe this is like that scene in Indiana Jones...but Indiana Jones is the BAD GUY!
Apparently my brain melted from the heat overnight and oozed through my pores with my sweat.
Needless to say...I made it past the house of horrors.