Not knowing what else to do, he threw me, JC, our bags, and then our beautiful momma in to the back of the Swagger Wagon. He pointed the wagon north and explained that he suspected domesticated turkeys, due to their low IQ, would fly north for winter, instead of south. So off we went through the dark snowy mountains of northern New Mexico and southern Colorado. When morning broke several hours later we had made it to Cortez, Colorado. This gas station had a view!
Doesn't the air look crisp and clear? It was 20 below and my dad's hand froze to the gas pump! After a slight delay that involved warm water and an unhappy gas station attendant we were back on our way. My dad's hand had "Mahr" across it for most of the week and he had to eat Thanksgiving with only one hand! No turkeys (besides my dad according to the gas station attendant) were in Cortez, Colorado and so we pushed forward and ran into this state.
This is what most of our trip looked like. We were on an interstate for about twenty or so miles of the 1100 mile trip. Two lanes were wonderful to look at!
My poor dad! With only one hand and everything closed for the holiday, it looked likely that it would be bologna or pimento loaf for Thanksgiving. I guess turkeys fly south....Wait! As we drove near the end of Price Canyon, the gigantic windmills pushed the sweet smell of meat, both light and dark, towards our vehicle....
The smell was so fragrant, my beautiful momma woke up. Using her finely tuned pregnancy sense of smell, she directed us to a small house in Provo, Utah where we found....
Learn what happens, next time on "Atomic Hokies".
1 comment:
I can hardly wait for the next installment! Laughed out loud.
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