Vacation (All I Ever Wanted)
In celebration of the Thanksgiving holiday, I went back to Colorado last week. The experience wasn't exactly the way I'd envisioned it, but it was good.
Part of the experience involved getting a vehicle, a 1989 Chevy Suburban. I haven't had a car since the aforementioned unpredicted event took place. But someone my mom works with (I think) had just purchased a new vehicle with which to tow their boat, and they were willing to sell the old one cheap. So Mom took them up on the offer. She bought it from them, and I will buy it from her once my financial situation allows (i.e., once I graduate and get a real job).
The other part of the experience involved a Thanksgiving Day celebration in the booming metropolis of Pony, Montana. I have an aunt, uncle, and cousin (and his family) who live in Montana, and they frequently host the festivities up there. So the plan, as I understood it, was this: Dad was going to drive up on Monday the 22nd. I was flying in to Denver on Tuesday. Mom and I (and maybe my brother Sam) would drive up on Wednesday. At the end of the weekend, I would drive the Suburban back to Utah and the rest of the family would drive back to Colorado.
As First Wizard Zedd is fond of saying, nothing is ever easy.
As it turns out, that was never actually the plan at all. The folks had decided that the best way to handle the situation would be to pick me up at the airport, then all drive up together on Wednesday. We would then drive back to Colorado on Saturday, and I could drive the Suburban back to Utah on Sunday. Unfortunately, having thought that I could drive back from Montana on Saturday if I needed to, I committed to some things at Church on Sunday. Long story short, I stayed in Colorado and spent Thanksgiving with my brother Aaron and his two girls rather than going to Montana.
Okay, that's the overview. Now here are some of the details (if you're interested).
I got into Denver a bit ahead of schedule, thanks to the fine folks at Frontier Airlines. I made my way to the baggage claim area at DIA, picked up my luggage, and waited. And waited. And waited. After almost an hour, I was beginning to worry. Mom and Sam were supposed to pick me up, and I hadn't seen them. So I made my way to the nearest phone and called Dad at work. (1-800 numbers are really handy, sometimes.) He tried to call Mom but couldn't reach her on her cell phone, so he suggested that I try to have her paged. I did so, and after about ten minutes, I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard a gruff voice saying, “Your money or your life!” I turned around to see Aaron (not Mom) and Sam. They had missed me coming out of the terminal, and the flight board never said that the flight had actually landed. So they were thinking that my flight might have been taken over and rerouted to Afghanistan. Meanwhile, I was thinking that Mom and Sam were in a ditch off to the side of the road someplace. Fortunately, we were all wrong. Mom was just in a meeting at school that she couldn't get out of, so she had asked Aaron to pitch hit.
On the way out of Denver, Aaron told me to call Mom. I did, and she said she had been on the phone with her insurance person at State Farm and was trying to work out the details of insuring the vehicle. She asked me to call and give the agent my information so they could finalize things. I called, and the agent told me that there was no way they could insure the car because it was going to be out of state for most of its use. This was all news to me; I had understood that the registration and insurance was already going to have been resolved when I got to Colorado. (Lesson: assume nothing.) So I called Mom and told her about it. She called the agent back, and by the time we got to Mom's school, she told me that we'd have to look for another way to handle it. Aaron suggested his insurance agent, but that didn't work either, for the same reason. That agent suggested that I call Progressive. I went to their web site instead. I also went to Geico, and their offer was just over $100 less for the same six-month policy. (And their commercials are better, too.) So the vehicle – which I still had never actually seen to this point – was now insured in my name under a Utah policy. Now I just had to get it registered. I went in and picked up a 10-day transit tag on Wednesday so that I could drive it to Utah without getting arrested.
One side note: I often name my vehicles, and I knew that this one would need something special. While driving it to Loveland on Friday, I came up with a great name. I now call my vehicle The Dreadnought. It drives like a boat, and it's approximately the same size as a WWI-era battleship (although I don't think the fuel economy is quite as good). I'll discuss the unique challenges of owning this vehicle in a later post.
Tuesday night was spent with Mom, Dad, Sam, and Sam's sig.ot., Kendra. Mom made a very easy Salisbury steak recipe that I'll have to try, maybe in the Crock Pot. We ate and we talked and we caught up with each other. It was good to meet Kendra, about whom I've heard a great deal. Sam's a fool if he lets her get away. It was also good to be with the family, if only for an evening. They got up at 4:00 the next morning to start the drive to Montana, and I got up to see them off.
Wednesday was spent in more mundane pursuits. I drove to Greeley to pick up the temporary tag for the Dreadnought. I also stopped at Big R (a farm and ranch supply store) and bought a couple of bags of road salt to put in the back. The Dreadnought doesn't have four wheel drive; I wasn't aware that they even made Suburbans without 4WD. So the salt will put a little extra weight over the back wheels, and could also be useful for traction if I ever have to get it unstuck.
I also made a quick visit to Don's Hobbies. I spent a lot of money there growing up; between role playing games and model rockets, it seems I was in that store all the time. They focus mainly on model trains, model airplanes, and remote control vehicles these days, but I did manage to find a couple of old Champions supplements in the back.
From there, I made my way over to the Larimer County Fairgrounds and Events Complex between Greeley and Loveland to pick up a ticket for the evening's hockey game (see previous entry). The Colorado Eagles beat the Odessa Jackalopes 3-0. The goalie, Tyler Weiman, had a great game and made some spectacular saves. I think the man has a bright future in professional hockey ... if the NHL ever starts playing again.
Thursday morning I finished defrosting (or 'unthawing', as they say here in Utah) the turkey. This was going to be a big adventure for me, as I had never baked a turkey (alone) before. But I found - and followed! – some simple cooking directions. The only hiccup was that I had forgotten the temperature selector on the oven was off by about 75° (Fahrenheit, not Celsius), so I turned it down after the bird had started to smoke just a little at the two-hour mark. The skin ended up a bit crisp, but the bird itself turned out moist and tender. By the way, that tip about cooking the turkey breast-side-down really works.
Aaron and the girls, Mikayla and Jordan, showed up about 3:30. There had been talk about going to see a movie together, but that never really materialized. Instead, the four of us pooled our resources and put together a heck of a feast. In addition to the turkey we had mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing, home-baked bread, cinnamon yams, cranberry chutney, and cherry pie. It was most impressive, especially for a meal prepared by two single guys and two girls ten and under. After dinner and cleanup, my four-year-old niece Jordan insisted that we teach her to play Sorry. Yes, she ended up beating us all, and no, we weren't letting her win.
I went to Loveland the next day to meet Aaron at his office. He was finishing up some make-up work (from having to leave on Tuesday to get me at the airport) when I arrived. We went into the shop, and over the next few hours, we replaced the factory installed cassette player in the Dreadnought with a CD receiver I'd picked up at Overstock.com. By 'we', I mean that he did most of the work while I tried to keep the girls entertained and offered occasionally helpful suggestions. The installation process involved buying a wire harness and an aftermarket mounting kit, both of which I was able to find within a few blocks of the shop. It took a little longer than anticipated, but in the end we were successful. After that we spent about an hour trying to get an uncooperative garage door closed, but with the help of a twelve-foot ladder, a towing strap, and a few nylon zip fasteners, we were able to get that taken care of as well.
I bid Aaron and the girls goodbye and made my way to Derek's parents' house for a post-Thanksgiving dinner. I got to see a lot of people I knew growing up and their families, plus a couple I'd met at Derek's wedding but didn't remember clearly. It was mostly leftovers, with the noteworthy exception of Derek's creamy potato and leek soup. Derek and Kathleen also presented me with an unusual holiday gift. Apparently there was someone running for office in Denver with the same name as I have. So they got me one of this candidate's yard signs with the slogan, “I Like Mike!” Derek said it would be a good self-esteem booster for me. He took a picture of me with the sign; I'll post it when I get it from him. (And don't forget the recipes, by the way. Thanks!)
My plan for Saturday was to leave the house by 8:00 or 9:00 a.m. for the drive back to Utah. However, I woke up a little before 5:00 and couldn't get back to sleep, so I decided to make the most of it. I got cleaned up, packed, had a small breakfast of leftovers, and made sure Doc (my brother's/parents' black Labrador retriever) had sufficient food and water, and I was out the door by 6:45. Good thing, too. The weather through Colorado and most of Wyoming was all right, but the forecast had called for snow in the afternoon. Somewhere between Little America and Evanston, the roads got bad. They remained bad for the remainder of the journey to Salt Lake. The final stretch, coming down the canyon from Park City into the Salt Lake valley, was the worst. If you don't think it's possible to experience a white-knuckle ride at 30 miles per hour, then you've never driven Parley's canyon in a snowstorm.
And so the saga of my Thanksgiving sojourn comes to a close. I got to see a lot of the people that I'm thankful for having in my life, and that made all the hassles and the unexpected turns of events worthwhile. I hope the Thanksgiving weekend treated all of you as well as it treated me.
Part of the experience involved getting a vehicle, a 1989 Chevy Suburban. I haven't had a car since the aforementioned unpredicted event took place. But someone my mom works with (I think) had just purchased a new vehicle with which to tow their boat, and they were willing to sell the old one cheap. So Mom took them up on the offer. She bought it from them, and I will buy it from her once my financial situation allows (i.e., once I graduate and get a real job).
The other part of the experience involved a Thanksgiving Day celebration in the booming metropolis of Pony, Montana. I have an aunt, uncle, and cousin (and his family) who live in Montana, and they frequently host the festivities up there. So the plan, as I understood it, was this: Dad was going to drive up on Monday the 22nd. I was flying in to Denver on Tuesday. Mom and I (and maybe my brother Sam) would drive up on Wednesday. At the end of the weekend, I would drive the Suburban back to Utah and the rest of the family would drive back to Colorado.
As First Wizard Zedd is fond of saying, nothing is ever easy.
As it turns out, that was never actually the plan at all. The folks had decided that the best way to handle the situation would be to pick me up at the airport, then all drive up together on Wednesday. We would then drive back to Colorado on Saturday, and I could drive the Suburban back to Utah on Sunday. Unfortunately, having thought that I could drive back from Montana on Saturday if I needed to, I committed to some things at Church on Sunday. Long story short, I stayed in Colorado and spent Thanksgiving with my brother Aaron and his two girls rather than going to Montana.
Okay, that's the overview. Now here are some of the details (if you're interested).
I got into Denver a bit ahead of schedule, thanks to the fine folks at Frontier Airlines. I made my way to the baggage claim area at DIA, picked up my luggage, and waited. And waited. And waited. After almost an hour, I was beginning to worry. Mom and Sam were supposed to pick me up, and I hadn't seen them. So I made my way to the nearest phone and called Dad at work. (1-800 numbers are really handy, sometimes.) He tried to call Mom but couldn't reach her on her cell phone, so he suggested that I try to have her paged. I did so, and after about ten minutes, I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard a gruff voice saying, “Your money or your life!” I turned around to see Aaron (not Mom) and Sam. They had missed me coming out of the terminal, and the flight board never said that the flight had actually landed. So they were thinking that my flight might have been taken over and rerouted to Afghanistan. Meanwhile, I was thinking that Mom and Sam were in a ditch off to the side of the road someplace. Fortunately, we were all wrong. Mom was just in a meeting at school that she couldn't get out of, so she had asked Aaron to pitch hit.
On the way out of Denver, Aaron told me to call Mom. I did, and she said she had been on the phone with her insurance person at State Farm and was trying to work out the details of insuring the vehicle. She asked me to call and give the agent my information so they could finalize things. I called, and the agent told me that there was no way they could insure the car because it was going to be out of state for most of its use. This was all news to me; I had understood that the registration and insurance was already going to have been resolved when I got to Colorado. (Lesson: assume nothing.) So I called Mom and told her about it. She called the agent back, and by the time we got to Mom's school, she told me that we'd have to look for another way to handle it. Aaron suggested his insurance agent, but that didn't work either, for the same reason. That agent suggested that I call Progressive. I went to their web site instead. I also went to Geico, and their offer was just over $100 less for the same six-month policy. (And their commercials are better, too.) So the vehicle – which I still had never actually seen to this point – was now insured in my name under a Utah policy. Now I just had to get it registered. I went in and picked up a 10-day transit tag on Wednesday so that I could drive it to Utah without getting arrested.
One side note: I often name my vehicles, and I knew that this one would need something special. While driving it to Loveland on Friday, I came up with a great name. I now call my vehicle The Dreadnought. It drives like a boat, and it's approximately the same size as a WWI-era battleship (although I don't think the fuel economy is quite as good). I'll discuss the unique challenges of owning this vehicle in a later post.
Tuesday night was spent with Mom, Dad, Sam, and Sam's sig.ot., Kendra. Mom made a very easy Salisbury steak recipe that I'll have to try, maybe in the Crock Pot. We ate and we talked and we caught up with each other. It was good to meet Kendra, about whom I've heard a great deal. Sam's a fool if he lets her get away. It was also good to be with the family, if only for an evening. They got up at 4:00 the next morning to start the drive to Montana, and I got up to see them off.
Wednesday was spent in more mundane pursuits. I drove to Greeley to pick up the temporary tag for the Dreadnought. I also stopped at Big R (a farm and ranch supply store) and bought a couple of bags of road salt to put in the back. The Dreadnought doesn't have four wheel drive; I wasn't aware that they even made Suburbans without 4WD. So the salt will put a little extra weight over the back wheels, and could also be useful for traction if I ever have to get it unstuck.
I also made a quick visit to Don's Hobbies. I spent a lot of money there growing up; between role playing games and model rockets, it seems I was in that store all the time. They focus mainly on model trains, model airplanes, and remote control vehicles these days, but I did manage to find a couple of old Champions supplements in the back.
From there, I made my way over to the Larimer County Fairgrounds and Events Complex between Greeley and Loveland to pick up a ticket for the evening's hockey game (see previous entry). The Colorado Eagles beat the Odessa Jackalopes 3-0. The goalie, Tyler Weiman, had a great game and made some spectacular saves. I think the man has a bright future in professional hockey ... if the NHL ever starts playing again.
Thursday morning I finished defrosting (or 'unthawing', as they say here in Utah) the turkey. This was going to be a big adventure for me, as I had never baked a turkey (alone) before. But I found - and followed! – some simple cooking directions. The only hiccup was that I had forgotten the temperature selector on the oven was off by about 75° (Fahrenheit, not Celsius), so I turned it down after the bird had started to smoke just a little at the two-hour mark. The skin ended up a bit crisp, but the bird itself turned out moist and tender. By the way, that tip about cooking the turkey breast-side-down really works.
Aaron and the girls, Mikayla and Jordan, showed up about 3:30. There had been talk about going to see a movie together, but that never really materialized. Instead, the four of us pooled our resources and put together a heck of a feast. In addition to the turkey we had mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing, home-baked bread, cinnamon yams, cranberry chutney, and cherry pie. It was most impressive, especially for a meal prepared by two single guys and two girls ten and under. After dinner and cleanup, my four-year-old niece Jordan insisted that we teach her to play Sorry. Yes, she ended up beating us all, and no, we weren't letting her win.
I went to Loveland the next day to meet Aaron at his office. He was finishing up some make-up work (from having to leave on Tuesday to get me at the airport) when I arrived. We went into the shop, and over the next few hours, we replaced the factory installed cassette player in the Dreadnought with a CD receiver I'd picked up at Overstock.com. By 'we', I mean that he did most of the work while I tried to keep the girls entertained and offered occasionally helpful suggestions. The installation process involved buying a wire harness and an aftermarket mounting kit, both of which I was able to find within a few blocks of the shop. It took a little longer than anticipated, but in the end we were successful. After that we spent about an hour trying to get an uncooperative garage door closed, but with the help of a twelve-foot ladder, a towing strap, and a few nylon zip fasteners, we were able to get that taken care of as well.
I bid Aaron and the girls goodbye and made my way to Derek's parents' house for a post-Thanksgiving dinner. I got to see a lot of people I knew growing up and their families, plus a couple I'd met at Derek's wedding but didn't remember clearly. It was mostly leftovers, with the noteworthy exception of Derek's creamy potato and leek soup. Derek and Kathleen also presented me with an unusual holiday gift. Apparently there was someone running for office in Denver with the same name as I have. So they got me one of this candidate's yard signs with the slogan, “I Like Mike!” Derek said it would be a good self-esteem booster for me. He took a picture of me with the sign; I'll post it when I get it from him. (And don't forget the recipes, by the way. Thanks!)
My plan for Saturday was to leave the house by 8:00 or 9:00 a.m. for the drive back to Utah. However, I woke up a little before 5:00 and couldn't get back to sleep, so I decided to make the most of it. I got cleaned up, packed, had a small breakfast of leftovers, and made sure Doc (my brother's/parents' black Labrador retriever) had sufficient food and water, and I was out the door by 6:45. Good thing, too. The weather through Colorado and most of Wyoming was all right, but the forecast had called for snow in the afternoon. Somewhere between Little America and Evanston, the roads got bad. They remained bad for the remainder of the journey to Salt Lake. The final stretch, coming down the canyon from Park City into the Salt Lake valley, was the worst. If you don't think it's possible to experience a white-knuckle ride at 30 miles per hour, then you've never driven Parley's canyon in a snowstorm.
And so the saga of my Thanksgiving sojourn comes to a close. I got to see a lot of the people that I'm thankful for having in my life, and that made all the hassles and the unexpected turns of events worthwhile. I hope the Thanksgiving weekend treated all of you as well as it treated me.
posted by Michael at
11:33 AM
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