Yesterday, the husband and I (without kids…w00t!) joined one of the ATV clubs we belong to for a charity ride—collecting cans of food and raising money for local food pantries. Because my Rincon lives at camp until we close it up next month, we had to ride double on his King Quad. That totally sucks. But, not only was it a good cause, but they’re great people and we don’t get to see them often enough (because three of our four machines are always at camp during the riding season), so I sucked it up and off we went.
Once we arrived at the event area, however, some friends of ours insisted we take their Polaris RZR (pronounced Razor) side-by-side out for a spin. They’ve offered many times, but we’re not in the habit of borrowing from people. We believe if we break it, we buy it and RZRs are OMG spendy. But they were working the event and wouldn’t be riding, and he had it fired up and ready to rock and roll, so we took it.
Fun! We had a blast in it, despite the anxiety stemming from the fact it was Not Ours to Break. I’m not a very good passenger, though. The grab bar Polaris kindly provides for the passenger to hold on to had just enough play so I kept trying to steer whenever I didn’t like the path my husband chose. It didn’t work.
Once the poker run was over and my husband’s nerves couldn’t take any more of the Not Ours to Break anxiety, we went back to the event area for BBQ and visiting. Then we set out again, riding double on the King Quad, which is not designed for riding double. Some brilliant brain trust (that would be my husband) decided to go up the mountain and check out the view. We were up there several years ago and the trail wasn’t bad. We had SK in the box and TK on his own machine and we all made it fine.
Let’s just say it’s washed out and some of the bigger rocks are more exposed, with a lot more billy-goatin’. After the “incident” during which I screamed and mentally apologized to my children for marrying a guy who got me killed on a stupid rock, there were several places I got off and walked over rough spots. Since walking to the mailbox daily is the extent of my exercising (hey, there are four steps up to the driveway), it was less than fun.
The view was worth it, though.
Except for those five seconds or so I was pretty sure I was going to die, I had a great weekend. How about you?
The RZR looks like a very fun ride! The view is awesome, even if you did have to take a death ride on the back to get there.
It was a really fun weekend! I’d just like to go out riding with my husband just once when we don’t have the kids and not think I’m going to die.
Hey, was so great to see you guys ! Glad you finally got to enjoy the RZR ! Now I have someone who totaly understands why I almost Puked in my helmet !! 53 minutes from Blue MTN Varity !
Not being able to stand up to ride out the rocky sections was less fun than the rest of it. I don’t know how you do it!
And at one point we had the following conversation:
Me: You know, Butch made it back from Blue Mountain Variety in 53 minutes. I’m pretty sure the RZR can handle the tiny bumps in the dirt at more than 2mph.
Him (with jaw all clenched): It’s. Not. Mine.
He did relax after a little while, though. Thanks for letting us give it a spin. And my Rincon will be home in time for the cancer benefit ride in October, so no more near death (at the hands of my husband, anyway) for me!
Despite the angst, sounds like it was a great weekend.
My DH would bitch if I got off and walked. Then we’d argue about not only him trying to kill me but me not allowing him to try and kill me and then his bitching about me not allowing him to try and kill me. Did you follow that?
I know this to be true because my DH takes me with him as he chases cows.
Trying to steer with the grab bar reminds me of the way I try to brake when I’m a passenger — imaginary brakes just lack grip!
Love the story and photos, Shannon,
Jenny, that’s exactly what it’s like!
Annmarie, sometimes I think our husbands could trade places and neither of us would notice. ;))