Jeff will tell you I'm exaggerating a bit here... the ride of death. But I assure you, there was more than one time that I a) nearly crapped my pants, b) said a some unmentionable, colorful words, and c) thought I was going to roll over and die or at minimum break my leg.
And while I was looking forward to finding some good mud puddles to race through, I was not anticipating traversing down a trail with a running river, trenches as wide as our 4-wheelers, and logs and debris washed down from all the runoff.
We took the Turkey Trail from the Peter Sinks road, which we went on the last time we were at Bear Lake so I knew I could handle it. The forest service had put up some new gates which I barely squeezed my 4-wheeler through... 50" wide opening, yeah right. We found a few of these bent over trees. I wonder how they got this way? If it's because of the snow, then yikes! That is a lot of snow!
I also found a few hints of fall. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I love fall colors but that also means winter is on its way. I told Jeff I'd like to go for a ride again when all leaves are in full fall bloom. 
When we got back down to the Peter Sinks road, Jeff sweetly asked me if I wanted to go back over the mountain through Hodge's Canyon instead of the way we normally go. I was feeling pretty good with my riding skills and knew he wanted a new adventure, so I agreed. He did ask me a few times if I was really sure about it, but how could I say no? Let's just say it was a dang good thing I didn't see the "extremely difficult" sign pointing to Hodges Canyon BEFORE we started up the trail. No, that came at the end, after I'd survived the miles of trenches, water, debris, and visions of my life passing before my eyes and my children being orphaned.
My first inkling that this might not have been such a good idea was when we came upon this mud puddle. It was huge. Seeing three grown men, which I assumed were just as wild and crazy on ATVs as my husband, getting off their machines to help each other navigate getting up and out of this mud hole should have been my second clue that I was going to regret my decision. Here's Jeff getting ready to help me navigate my way out of the puddle. Sometimes my strategy of just gunning it isn't the best idea. 
But I wasn't about to be a sissy girl. I figured if anything this would help me get more comfortable with the limits of our 4-wheelers and help me improve my riding skills. I'm kind of a whimp when my machine starts to tip at an angle, even when it's not that big of deal and logically I know the machine is capable of it. I just prefer to have all four wheels on the ground.
The near miss with a broken leg twice and having to let Jeff steer my ATV through several terrifying spots for me were just minor setbacks. I will have you all know, however, that the three men in front of us eventually stopped, let us pass, and turned around. I can proudly say at least I didn't quit like the three mamby-pamby-sissy-boys.
At one point, I just stopped and sat there on the trail. After turning corner after corner only to see more water, more two feet wide and two feet deep trenches, getting high-centered on a rock, and seeing Jeff kneeling on the back of his ATV and leaning as far back as he could to maneuver his way over a monster trench, I'd had about as much as I could take. Jeff looked back to check on me and I simply shook my head "no" at him. Then I hollered at him to take my picture. I wanted proof that I wasn't a sissy, the trail was in fact very difficult, there was a lot of water rushing down the trail, and that I was having fun. Yes, I was having a blast. In a sort of once you are done, you are so glad you did it because it was more fun than you could imagine but at the same time you never want to do that again way. It was a one thumbs up, one thumbs down kind of ride.
By the time we got down the trail, I had decided that it was a good thing we tried a new way back to the property. It was more fun that I gave Jeff credit for, even with my sheer terror and mental anguish at times. Plus, I didn't wuss out like some folks on the trail and I think my riding skills drastically improved, even if I was only going 5 mph max speed the entire way down. When we got back home, I took off my helmet and gave a huge sigh of relief. I knew my face would be covered in dust and my hair was probably a bit crazy, but when Jeff started laughing and said, "Wait! Let me take your picture!" I knew my face must being saying exactly how I felt... "let's do it again!"
A little hint to the Forrest Service, you'd save folks a lot of time, bouncing around, and headache if there was a sign pointing the way to Bloomington Lake. Apparently part of the adventure of Bloomington is actually finding the place. Especially if it's been 15 years since you've last been there and have no clue if you should go right then left or right then right or left then left or left then right. (It's actually left at the first fork in the road then right at the second, if you're wondering.)
My Mom had so much fun with my Raspberry Days exploration to the Paris Ice Caves, that she wanted us to head up to Bloomington Lake. Too bad for us, we got lost and drove up the wrong road until I was about to jump out of the truck myself from all the anxiety that was building up with every bump and rut in the road. Jeff was a good sport about it and tried his best to make me smile and laugh. But I was pretty grumpy about the whole adventure. Had been all day for some reason. I did tell him, if I saw a moose it would make up for getting lost (and the sticky kids in the backseat). This little conversation is important to remember....
Apparently everyone else had the same idea my Mom did. The place was packed! We were lucky to find a parking spot. It made me laugh that we even got lost because we had passed so many trucks heading back from the lake and upon seeing the entire parking lot full. Everyone was swinging off the rope swing into the freezing, pristine mountain water. They were a bit nuts in my mind... there was still snow next to the lake!
There are actually two smaller lakes you pass before getting to Bloomington Lake. By the time Pearl and I made our way to the second lake, it was 5 o'clock. The exact time that Pearl has to go the bathroom EVERY SINGLE DAY. Every single day, without fail. A family passing us when Pearl told me she couldn't hold it or walk back to the public restrooms (which probably stunk so she wouldn't have used them anyway), to watch out for stinging nettle. Great. Not only did I have to trudge Pearl over to some hidden rock cove, but now I had to hold her up in the air so she wouldn't pee all over her shorts or get stinging nettle all over her little bum. Oh the adventures of motherhood. And being a girl. Cole will have it much easier.
Speaking of having it easier, Cole also suckered Grandpa into carrying him the entire way to the lake. Thanks Dad!
Jesse snapped this photo when I was dealing with Pearl's potty emergency. Look at how clear the water is... that reflection is amazing!
Pearl and I eventually did make it to Bloomington Lake, well after everyone else. Look how gorgeous everything is! The wildflowers and fall berries were still out in bloom too. 
Rex loves the water. Just like Sam did.
So did Ruby. She had a slight meltdown because she couldn't jump right in.
Remember what I said to Jeff as we were lost? That if I saw a moose the trip would be worth it? Well, as luck would have it, there was a moose! I guess I can't be grumpy about our adventure anymore. Oh, and we also saw two moose in Sardine Canyon and Jeff saw a moose at the summit above Bear Lake in Logan Canyon! September must be moose's favorite time of the year. 
My family has a new card game.
Pitch.
I still don't get the rules, it's not a simple, slap-n-swear game like Hell. It involves math and you actually need to have a strategy to win. Plus, there's not nearly the excitement and shouting like Hell. Oh, don't get me wrong, there's plenty of creative words flowing from our mouths.... what game has a off-Jack or is that a Jack-off (he he) and "trumps." Since I still don't get the game, here's a link to the official rules.
I was so confused and tired that I made my brother, Kurtis, draw up a cheat sheet for me. I'm a dork like that. A book worm you might say. Not the street-savvy type that could pick up any gambling game and win. My Dad told us when we get better though, we'd implement the quarter betting into the game. Of which he and Kimmy would get rich off of us with.
It's weird because I can stay up all night at home blogging but have to have lively action to keep me awake on vacation. Like a game of Hell. I only made it to 1 o'clock the first night my Dad taught us how to play. Jeff on the other hand, had so much fun that on night two of family Pitch, he kept everyone up until 3 a.m.! YES, PEOPLE... 3 IN THE MORNING! I'm pretty sure Jeff has never stayed up that late before. Needless to say, he slept in until almost 11 (again something very, very unusual) and took a nap that afternoon. He had fun though. And I'm guessing since I was the only one who went to bed early that night (10:30... what is wrong with Jeff and I? It's like we switched bodies!), I'm going to have to learn the rules better because Pitch is here to stay.
WE HAVE A BEACH! A REAL, SAND COVERED BEACH! WITH NO MORE WILLOWS!
Can you sense my excitement?
My grandpa decided to pony up the money to pay someone to rip those suckers out. I can't remember the last time I was able to play on beach directly in front of our property... well, except for the drought years when there are miles and miles of beach past the muck. The willows had also grown so thick over the years that they had changed the course of a natural spring that had run down the property line to the North. Our lawn had flooded all summer and kept getting higher and higher up the property. 
But what really got him I think, was the neighbors telling us that we couldn't use their beach. Uh, since when did the property lines change and the beach suddenly became private property? Sure, the only sand free of willows was in front of their cabin, but the law says the beach is public and your property line ends at the high water mark which basically means the edge of your lawn. And they seemed to have forgotten that my grandparents have owned the Bear Lake property for over 40 years. We weren't bitter or anything. But now we have our own sand in front of our own property to play on. We'll remember their hospitality when our beach is voted best beach in America. We can shoot big, can't we? Even though it will never compare to the real best beach in America, which I have been to, in Clearwater, Florida. Alas, I digress.
We may have sand now, but we still have willows. A ginormous pile of willows. I should have stood in front of it because the pictures just don't do it justice. It's seriously bigger than our trailer! Step two of reclaiming our beach is to now convince my Grandpa to not get rid of them his way - one truck load at a time - but to shred the suckers into tiny pieces of sawdust.
The property line to the North. The guys who ripped everything out should have just finished up and gone over the property line to save us time. 
Those horrid, view-blocking willows were so thick, some poor animal got trapped in their and died! Gross. No wonder the muck down there stunk so bad. 
The "mother root" as I termed it. I figured we just might pull the plug on Bear Lake and see it drain if we managed to pull some of these monsters out. 
There is a ton of work to be done next year, but getting those willows cut down is a fantastic start. We were all so excited. Even my lazy brother, Jesse (just kidding Jesse) worked all day - it was Labor Day though - pulling out "mother root" after "mother root." I was impressed with the spots of root-free beach.... we're going to have a better beach than the neighbors!
Meanwhile... while the men were working on clearing the beach for the women and children, I sat lazily on the beach in my new swimming suit. Of course I was also wearing a sweatshirt because the sun had decided to hide behind some dark clouds all day. I told everyone I was going to sit there until I willed the sunshine out. 
Cole ate sand-covered snacks until he turned into a licorice-sticky, Goldfish mess.
The girls were upset that we wouldn't let them go over to the neighbors' beach because they were all over there. So they decided to make a pirate ship. I was pleasantly surprised with their creativity. They spent hours gathering sticks and then sticking them into the sand for their ship. Don't you love Pearl's expression in this picture? Her little hand on her hip and this funny smirk. That girl has spunk!
I can't wait until next summer!
Have I mentioned how much Pearl loves the 4 wheelers? I'm fairly certain she loves them more than Jeff. Ok, maybe not but close.
Pearl waits and pleads all day for Jeff to take her on a ride. And when he finally gives in, the excitement just about does her in. I can't describe how big her smile is and her squeals of "YEAH!" Cousin Ruby-juby gets pretty excited too. She begs Uncle Jeff and her Dad all weekend to let her go on the 4 wheelers.
The only thing that tops their excitement is when they get to go on a ride together. A daddy-daughter 4 wheeler ride. Jeff, Pearl, Uncle Jesse, and cousin Ruby.
Check out the views, courtesy of Pearl's photography skills. 
Too bad for this little guy, he isn't big enough to go on any rides yet. He has to resort to taking matters into his own hands and sneaking over to the 4 wheelers when no one is looking. 
Or cry until his Aunt Kimmy takes him up and down the beach about 50 times. Or, if he is really lucky, whine and cry until his Dad gives in and drives him all over the property to get him to quiet down. But I wouldn't feel too bad for Fern just yet, his Dad is scheming to get him a dirt bike once he's big enough to ride it. 
I also found a few hints of fall. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I love fall colors but that also means winter is on its way. I told Jeff I'd like to go for a ride again when all leaves are in full fall bloom. 
When we got back down to the Peter Sinks road, Jeff sweetly asked me if I wanted to go back over the mountain through Hodge's Canyon instead of the way we normally go. I was feeling pretty good with my riding skills and knew he wanted a new adventure, so I agreed. He did ask me a few times if I was really sure about it, but how could I say no? Let's just say it was a dang good thing I didn't see the "extremely difficult" sign pointing to Hodges Canyon BEFORE we started up the trail. No, that came at the end, after I'd survived the miles of trenches, water, debris, and visions of my life passing before my eyes and my children being orphaned.
But I wasn't about to be a sissy girl. I figured if anything this would help me get more comfortable with the limits of our 4-wheelers and help me improve my riding skills. I'm kind of a whimp when my machine starts to tip at an angle, even when it's not that big of deal and logically I know the machine is capable of it. I just prefer to have all four wheels on the ground.
By the time we got down the trail, I had decided that it was a good thing we tried a new way back to the property. It was more fun that I gave Jeff credit for, even with my sheer terror and mental anguish at times. Plus, I didn't wuss out like some folks on the trail and I think my riding skills drastically improved, even if I was only going 5 mph max speed the entire way down. When we got back home, I took off my helmet and gave a huge sigh of relief. I knew my face would be covered in dust and my hair was probably a bit crazy, but when Jeff started laughing and said, "Wait! Let me take your picture!" I knew my face must being saying exactly how I felt... "let's do it again!"
