So, our trip out to the high desert provided fodder for several stories. Little r was at the heart of most of them, but we did manage to drum up a few never-forget moments all on our own. Guess you could say, "we still got it" or at least the baby hasn't completely stolen the show. This story surrounds one of my favorite things - a Jeep Wrangler. This isn't just any Jeep Wrangler though, this is my mother's Jeep. For a woman that spent her whole life wishing she had one, she was certain to do it right. The desert is a perfect place to have a Jeep, and I owned one for almost 10 years, so they hold a place near and dear to my heart. My mother's Jeep is special though - I have never seen someone own a Jeep like she does.
We have been blessed to drive the infamous Jeep on previous visits, but none of those experiences pale in comparison to the fun we had with it on our last vacation. It has been beaten hard by the desert, the dogs, and the desert sun. The seats are cracked, finger prints are left behind in the dust when you grab the dash, and the pet mouse makes an appearance on occasion. Yes, I said pet mouse.
Big R and I planned an exciting evening in Viva Las Vegas - true to form, we spent it like a tourist, something I had never done before really, despite having lived there for many years. Mama watched the crazy bear and we ventured into town in the trusty Jeep. Plans had been made to stay in a new hotel - a new hotel with no parking garage. In all my years in Las Vegas, I had never known a hotel to be short on parking. No worries, we can just valet...
As we pull up to the valet entrance we bust into uncontrollable laughter. The car in front of us is a beautiful Porsche that was shiny even in the shade. We quickly glanced around Mama's Jeep, checked on the mouse that has a snuggly nest in the glove compartment, and rolled right up to the sexy Porsche. Talk about pure comedy. It was classic.
The valet was far too anxious to take the keys and give us a tag. He gives me that "look" and quickly says, "don't worry, I have a Jeep". My response? "Oh honey, I guarantee your Jeep is no where near as awesome as this one..."
Awesome it was, as it was carefully parked in a valet garage during our stay. We headed home after checkout the next day and all was well until we hit dirt - dirt road that is... Nothing is odd about smelling fumes from Jeep, right? What's wrong is that we thought so carefully about our trip to Las Vegas that we failed to pack even a pair of tennis shoes. As the fumes get heavier, we got quieter. No clue what Big R was thinking, but my head was somewhere along the lines of "holy crap, we are going to die out here." I kept picturing us covered from head to toe in dust as we gasped for water and drug our feet in the sand. A little mellow dramatic, I assure you, but not entirely impossible. We prayed to the Jeep gods to get us home safely, and held our breaths so hard we nearly passed out. We pulled up to the house and immediately jumped out of the Jeep. Without hesitation, I lifted the hood and we both literally gasped when we saw the engine. The oil cap was missing - full on missing. This is insane, people! The entire engine was covered in hot oil and smoldering...
I sunk my head low and sauntered into the house to tell the stepdad that the Jeep was kaput, oh, and that we almost didn't make it back ALIVE! He responded with a simple, "that's nice" and kept on doing what he was doing. Said, "these roads shake things loose all the time, I'm sure that oil cap jiggled off on your way home." And, "oh, when you go back out this weekend, keep an eye out for it." HA. Seriously. This is true desert living... I love my parents.
Somehow I managed to not take a single picture of this blessed vehicle on our vacation. Mama, if you have one, you have to send it my way to complete the memory...
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