Well, like most of our adventures, it all started out innocent enough. Over breakfast this morningDave Buechler announces that he is taking our friend Eric Cox out for a ride on the Polaris. I voiced that it was maybe a little cold for a Polaris adventure? With his most authoritative voice (how dare I question him in front of Eric) he proclaims that it’s NEVER too cold for a ride on the Polaris.So we bundle up in our warmest winter attire and head out and up the mountain. And up and over…through Aspen trees and mountain meadows until we reached our destination. A beautiful vista at about 10,000 feet with an impressive view. This is where we always stop and turn around. It’s a nice ride up into the San Juan’s. On this day we brought a picnic lunch. While enjoying my sandwich, I ponder, “I wonder where this road ends up.” As if on cue Dave whips a map out of nowhere (oh. shoot. he brought a map…this is never good). He and Eric whip out their reading glasses to find out exactly where this road leads. I knew I should have kept my mouth shut. Five minutes later we on back on the Polaris with a whole new plan for the day. I knew we were in trouble when Dave outstretches his hand to measure the distance between the sun and the horizon. “We have plenty of time before it gets dark! Let’s roll!”

And off we go. We drive through a beautiful meadow and start to ascend up a hill. And then another. And another. But there are no downhills. And then we hit snow. Dave is focused. The snow gets a little deeper and the hill a little steeper. I start to question but he cuts me off. This is going to be amazing! He says. What an adventure! He says. I look over at Eric. He stares straight ahead. He too seems focused. But I can’t tell because he has on mirrored sunglasses. For all I know his eyes are wide and full of terror like mine.We continue up and the trees disappear and the landscape turns bare. We are now above tree line. Neither Dave nor Eric seem to notice. What in the hell is going on? Are they going to murder me? At this rate my body will never be found. I start to think back over the past few days…what could I have done to deserved to be murdered. Do I really know my husband?We finally reach the top…well over 12,000 feet…it is an amazing meadow proudly displaying gorgeous views in all directions. It was totally worth it. There were no plans of a murder. I’m relieved.This is when Dave starts to show subtle signs of maybe being a tiny bit concerned. “You see”, he explains, “it was easy going up. The down was going to be a little tricky. The brakes on the Polaris might not be the best.” He decides this is the perfect time to tell me that we need new tires as well. He hopes they are still able to grab the snow on the steep descent. I. Am. Terrified.

And we start downward. As we start to accelerate the Polaris fishtails ever so slightly. Dave leans forward and Eric follows suit. So I lean forward as well. I’m not sure why.I look over at Dave and he is practically leaning over the steering wheel jerking it to the left and then to the right. His cigarette hanging out of his mouth with a full inch of ash hanging off the end of it. He is focused. I look over at Eric. He’s hanging for dear life with both hands and a leg wrapped around the bars. The other leg is flailing out the side of the Polaris. I try to scream but nothing comes out. We go airborne. This is a nightmare.Dave keeps going and going…sliding uncontrollably (but he claims he was in total control the whole time). The 200 foot drop off the right side of the road does not scare him (Eric on the other hand). The sharp corners he takes with confidence. Halfway down the hill Dave slams on the brakes and jumps out and starts to examine tracks on the trail. Mountain Lion tracks!!! 10 seconds later he jumps back in and we are off again, slipping and sliding.A little further we finally roll to a stop and Dave jumps out to pee and flick the ash from his cigarette. “Well, that was something we probably should have saved until summer.” Hops back in and we continue on.And then it occurs to me. Here we are speeding through the woods. Eric is wearing the same type of hat airplane pilots wore in the 1920s. I’m wearing my fox hat. Dave is wearing his cowboy hat and he decided since it was hunting season to cover it with this orange thing. I can only imagine how utterly ridiculous we must look….I mean how many times do you see the Red Baron and his pet fox riding a Polaris in the woods being driven by a mad cowboy wearing an orange shower cap.I start to laugh uncontrollably. What an utterly fantastic day it has been.