28 January 2009

Guests Only

Or so the sign says.

Just go ahead and click on the picture for it to turn honkin big. You'll be able to count blades of grass. Go ahead. Try it.

This was the entrance to our honeymoon cabin's parking area in Montana. Is that not the cutest fence?

While we were exploring one day, we drove past the "Guests Only" sign and followed that road you see yonder. It takes you into a national park. It was gorgeous and bee-utiful.

But that road yonder kept getting narrower and narrower and rockier and rockier. The big Expedition the rental place gave us was having some issues. Big Bertha couldn't haul herself up a teeny mountain path at such severe angles. So we just got out and pushed her.

But not really.

And then, before we knew it, we were driving her THROUGH A CREEK. Oops. Pretty sure it said "Don't do it." on the lease.

I'm not even sure where that creek came from or how we turned around and got back over it without Big Bertha tripping over a tree root, but yippy skippy, we managed.

Leave it to my B to find himself an off-roading adventure, without even trying.

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