The third time…is not charming

by Katie on October 11, 2011

Sunday afternoon, after we wrapped up a few farm chores, we headed into the mountains to check some trail cameras we set out a few weeks ago to capture a big ol’ buck Brandon can lead his dad to in a couple weeks.

We were in a bit of a hurry, as we got off late and had at least two good hikes in from the four-wheeler, of three or four places we planned to stop.

After a stop at the drive-thru for our new-found Mexican favorites, we were headed into the mountains.

For some unknown reason, about 85% of the time we have driven in the mountains the past few years, I’ve gotten really carsick. (I said years, people. No jumping to conclusions here.) Never in my life did I have this problem before (although I suffered the consequences of my oldest baby brother’s propensity for carsickness several times…not pretty). But, never in my life did I do much mountain driving either. So we don’t know what the issue is there. But it has nothing to do with the point of the story anyway.

For purposes of setting the scene though, basically 20 yards after we turned onto the mountain road, I was hanging my head out the window, praying for mercy.

At some point early on in our drive over mini-mountains and through washes, Brandon said, “You know, that four-wheeler looks really close to the truck for some reason. I wonder if those logs in front of it moved?”

Considering the state I was in, all of this barely registered with me, and I couldn’t even bring myself to open my eyes to look in the mirror and assess the situation. Let’s just say I should have.

We could not have gone another full mile down the road (although to me it felt like ten), when we went through the bottom of yet another wash. Only this one was pretty narrow, and we took it a little too fast since we were in a hurry, which led to a big bump when we hit the other side.

Which led to a big CRASH! and glass shattered all over us, and clear to the dash of the pickup.

As you can probably guess, that four-wheeler that “looked close to the cab” was now in the cab with us, with every square inch of of it covered in shards of glass.

The damage:

Hi, four-wheeler. Nice of you to join us.

Now, I know a lot of you (men mostly, I’m guessing) are thinking, “What’s the big deal? It was an accident.”

Well, while I agree that it’s not that big of a deal, let me explain why it’s a bigger deal than you think:

  1. This is our “go-to-town” truck. Not our farm truck. Had this happened to Brandon’s truck, we might not have even noticed behind all the other scratches, dents and dings. Not until next summer when we hit 120 degrees anyway.
  2. We have owned this truck a total of eight months.
  3. He had the conscious, out-loud thought something was wrong, and we didn’t stop to check.
  4. This is the real kicker, folks. It’s the third time in 20 months the four-wheeler has blown out one of our back windows.

Oh yes. That was not a typo. The third time.

The first was on the trip where Brandon also lost his wedding band (never to be found again, mind you). The second time, I was halfway in the backseat when the four-wheeler blew threw the window. It’s a good thing I have a young, strong heat, let me tell you.

When we got to our mountain destination, and began dusting broken glass of ourselves and all our gear, I said, “Well, if we’re going to pay for insurance, might as well use it sometime.”

Because thankfully, we do have glass insurance on this truck. We did not the first time this happened. We learned our lesson.

Sometime between 12 and 4pm today, I should have a back window again.


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