This past weekend Brad and I went with his family to the sand dunes for some four-wheeling fun. Brad has been working hard on getting ours working and by Friday we had one all ready to go. His dad towed our 1 plus his 4 on the back of the motor-home, so we were looking pretty hardcore. We got to the campsite around 10:30ish so we couldn't really go riding in the dark so Brad and I started working on fixing our four-wheelers seat cover. We had bought a new covering so we had to take out all the staples and then staple the new on one. Now this was quite the task. It was nearly impossible to get those dang staples to go through the plastic, and they were some pretty intense staples. Our unsuccessful to successful staples was probably around 4:1. At one point Brad had the staple gun pushing as hard as he could onto the seat, Brad's brother Andy was pushing the seat into the staple gun, and I was holding/stretching the cover over the plastic. Well the staple went through. It went through the plastic, the cover, and my finger. We didn't think I needed stitches but it did split my finger open pretty good. About 10 minutes after we got me all band-aided up, Brad was feeling for any staples sticking out and his finger started bleeding too. Luckily he just got poked so it wasn't too bad. So it is safe to say that this trip hadn't started how we would have liked.
That same day, Tanner's (Brad's brother) four-wheeler decided to die on us. They did some tinkering (I say that because I certainly have no idea what they did) and got it running again. The next day Andy's four-wheeler also decided to die on us. There was more tinkering and they got it up and running. Then our four-wheeler decided to die on us. They tinkered. Then they thought maybe it was bad gas so we siphoned (that's right, I know what that word means...I hope) the gas and filled about 5 powerade bottles full of gas. Turns out it wasn't the gas. More tinkering took place. Then we gave up. Secretly, I was very grateful for this because I was just a little terrified having to ride that up down those crazy steep sand hills. Now I had a legitimate excuse for riding on the back of Brad's. On our way to sand mountain...sand peak...sand hill (something like that?) Brad's dad's four wheeler apparently thought we were too fat to ride it and it started making a pretty nasty noise. From what I understand, the thing that prevented the chain from hitting the top broke off because there was too much weight on it, so Brad and I had to switch with his dad.
Although it may sounds like this was a trip of catastrophe it really wasn't. We had a whole lot of fun! I am still a little hesitant to drive up those sand hills, but I absolutely loved riding on the back when Brad did it. His whole family are amazing drivers! They were cruising up and down all sorts of craziness!
Oh and Brad's brothers decided to have some fun with those bottles of gasoline. Our campfire was a good 4 feet that night.
and now you can blog about moab in less then 2 weeks and counting.
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