We left Pagosa in a blizzard!

Our daughter called, “We are so glad you’re coming to California this year for the Holidays, but are you sure you don’t want to fly?”

“Thanks, but no, thanks. Your dad says he wants to drive. He’s not saying it aloud, but I’m reading his mind. He’s probably thinking of garage-sale-finds, having a way to get them home, and the Cabela’s in Truckee, California.

“It’s a hard drive and I’m worried about you. We’ve made that trip every year at Christmas. It’s two days of hard driving.”

“We’ll be fine.”

The day we left for California, we left in a blizzard. Johnny Cash’s song “Jackson” was going through my head.

We got married in a fever, hotter than a pepper sprout.

We've been talkin' 'bout Jackson, ever since the fire went out.

This seems like a perfect fit to our adventure. Jerry Harris, my friend, help with the cadence. You’ll get the jest.

“We left Pagosa in a blizzard, colder than a widow’s bed.

We’ve been talkin’ ‘bout Calli’, I can’t get it outta my head.”

We’re going to Cali’, Al’s not messing around.

My sweet-talkin’ man’s not foolin’ around.

We got as far as Cortez when that old car broke down.

Jeremy met us on the road towed us back to town.

My tough talkin’ man said, “You turn-a-loose-a my coat,

Beg if you want, but Cali’s calling that’s all she wrote.

We blew into the city following garage sale signs.

This Colorado codger gonna make them sales mine.

Them sellers led him ‘round like a scalded hound.

Taught him more than he wanted to know about this Cali town.

We joked and played with the kids ‘til our time ran out,

We laughed and cried as we turned that car about

We packed that trunk with Al’s garage-sale junk,

Something in our hearts wanted to stay, but we left Cali’ hittin’ bottom all the way.

We left Cali in a blizzard, whiter than a wedding dress.

In a blindin’ storm, we hit Truckee and Donner Pass-what a mess.

Hundreds of chained truck backed up for miles

Cabela’s no where in sight in the car there were no smiles.

My tough talkin’ man said, “Turn this car ‘round,

I’m not leaving till Caleba’s has been found.

It’s only fifteen miles back the way we just came.

Woman, a man has to do what a man has to do or he doesn’t deserve the name.

I yelled. You’re takin’ me back up on Donner Pass?

You better watch it, Mr. Al, I’ll take no more of your sass.

Stop the car, and let me out. I’ll just walk from here.”

Enough of your Cabela’s and huntin’ talk, I don’t care that we just passed it ,dear.

We turned that Toyota ‘round, headed back the way we came.

Hit Cabela’s on the third try. I went for coffee at the Big Horn Grill tired of this game.

Go ahead, take your coffee into the store,

Don’t forget to sample the fudge and go shop some more.’

The lights went out in Cabela’s, it was blacker than a Stetson hat.

“Don’t worry Miss, we’ve got a little generator in the back that is faster than a bat.

It won’t take long to kick in. It happens all the time.

So let your husband shop, that’s all that’s on his mind.

I needed more than coffee, that I knew for sure.

I felt my way in the dark and drank another strong black cup of cure.

I watched My Sweet Al look down the barrel of ever’ gun he touched,

He was lost in Cabela’s, a buck in his sights, dark or bright it didn’t matter much.

We hit Salt Lake City at minus nine.

Our daughter said, ‘Look, I see another Cabela’s behind.

I said, ‘Look down and drive right by. I’ve had enough of that wilderness  experience I whispered with a sigh.

We landed in Pagosa in a blizzard. The temp was minus two,

Snow fallin’, ice inside my lips were shades of blue.

My big-talkin’ Man leaned over whispered in my ear,

“No more driving to Cali dear, next time we’ll FLY.”

Final Brushstroke!

Our kids from California and Pagosa called every hour while we were on the road. We’re home safe. My Sweet Al is sitting in his rocker, lost somewhere in his trip to Cabela’s. I’m by his side, lost somewhere in my mind, “It’s hard to teach an old huntin’ dog new tricks. Change doesn’t make sense when you’ve got huntin’ on your mind.