…and Nettie Embarks on a Mission to Take the Vastiest Number of Photos in the History of Ranch Trips. Ever.
That’s the nutshell version. If you really only want to see the pics, feel free to skip my narrative and go straight to the gallery. 😀 Fair warning: The fact that it has taken me almost two weeks to work through the editing of these photos should be a cautionary indication of my photographic extravagance on this particular sojourn.
Last weekend was a long weekend for Laurent and Megan, who both work for the Cathedral school and had both Friday and Monday off. As such, it was written in stone, no last-minute-changes or sudden conflicts allowed, that the family would be going to the ranch. Paul took Friday off, we were able to schedule the two boys for their last home visit for the whole weekend, and the deal was done. Shopping for ranch food was accomplished on Wednesday, packing on Thursday, and on Thursday evening, we picked up the girls at church and headed out, meeting Paul at a convenient Chevron station located where Shea Blvd. intersects with the Beeline Highway. Since he works near there, it made no sense for him to come all the way home before leaving — and we needed two vehicles for the trip anyway, so it worked out perfectly.
Then commenced what, for my husband and Megan, who drove with him in the Izuzu, was a very amusing yet tedious drive to our first stop in Payson. We’ll just say that Nettie-driving-at-night-through-the-mountains is not the most expeditious way to get from point A. to point B. From Payson onward, Laurent happily took the wheel, and Nettie spent much of the ride panicking about the curving roads and steep drops and feeling like she was going to die. I don’t know what my problem is, whether it’s the build-up of years worth of travel traumas or what, but more and more, I just can’t handle the mountains. I’ve sworn it before, and I’ll swear it again: I need to get a Xanax Rx just for the drives to the ranch.
Arriving around midnight invariably means a sleep-in the next morning, and my morning was somewhat grumpier than I would have liked, since the battery to which I hook up my C-Pap at night was out of juice, resulting in a very fitful and unrestful night for me. Nonetheless, we did arise eventually to a bright and shiny blue-sky morning, and were off by nine to the White Mountains for a day of exploring new sights.
Our first stop was Nelson Reservoir, where we trekked around on the dam and enjoyed the fall colors and reflections on the lake. In some of the photos you can see a snow-topped mountain in the distance, and above that mountain, you can see a small cloud formation. It was intriguing to note that, during the time we spent on that stop, dallying about the dam, the cloud grew significantly. It reminded me of Elijah atop the mountain after his triumph over the prophets of Baal, in 1 Kings 18:
41 Elijah said to Ahab, “Go up, eat and drink; for there is a sound of rushing rain.” 42 So Ahab went up to eat and to drink. Elijah went up to the top of Carmel; there he bowed himself down upon the earth and put his face between his knees. 43 He said to his servant, “Go up now, look toward the sea.” He went up and looked, and said, “There is nothing.” Then he said, “Go again seven times.” 44 At the seventh time he said, “Look, a little cloud no bigger than a person’s hand is rising out of the sea.” Then he said, “Go say to Ahab, ‘Harness your chariot and go down before the rain stops you.’” 45 In a little while the heavens grew black with clouds and wind; there was a heavy rain. Ahab rode off and went to Jezreel. 46 But the hand of the Lord was on Elijah; he girded up his loins and ran in front of Ahab to the entrance of Jezreel.
Elijah had the right idea… run DOWN the mountain, AWAY from the “little cloud”. We, on the other hand, blithly and without a care in the world, drove “further up and further in” — TOWARDS the cloud. And before we knew it, we were driving over mountain roads under thickly falling snow! I know I hail from snow country, but it’s been almost two decades since I drove in it, and I was unnerved. The first opportunity that presented itself for getting off the highway, I turned and found a place to park. It so happened that we were facing a rather picturesque little corral, and the kids jumped right out into the snow to run around. I got out once the snowfall stopped (it was only a few minutes, as Paul had expected), and availed myself of the chance to snap a few pics there before we hopped back in the cars and went on our way.
