My Wrangler

Chapter 2:

I live in the small mountain/lake town of Donnelly, ID, over 14 hours from Craig. I am scheduled to arrive at the ranch on Monday, just 24 hours away.

I am frantically running around my room packing up my final belongings into my two duffel bags. I packed more thrifted button up shirts than I can count, and my beloved collection of work jeans. I love all of the brands, but Levi's have always been there for me.

I zip the duffel bags shut and stack them in a pile to the left of my door. At 8am Sunday morning, I was still in my pajamas so I quickly changed into my "driving" jeans and threw on a comfy, loose tank top and my dad's old rodeo sweatshirt from college. My trusty belt slides nicely through my worn out jeans and I attach my leatherman pouch along with it and place the multitool inside, as well as some chapstick in my pocket. I make my bed for the final time for the next three months and then I walk out the door, grabbing my stuff along the way.

Before being able to see the kitchen, I can smell fresh bacon and my mom's homemade English muffins, instantly knowing that she had made my favorite breakfast. Turning the corner, I see her jamming out to some Johnny Cash and making the finishing touches on breakfast. This morning it was just her and I at the table, seeing as my dad was already out working, and my brothers will be getting home from school in a couple of days.

"Roe, how are you feeling? Are you ready?" asked my mother.

I responded, "I am so ready, but feeling a little nervous for the drive ahead, especially in such a time crunch".

She picks up on the hint, so she offers to make the rest of my breakfast to-go, that way I can get driving.

My parents are the most hard working, understanding people I know, willing to help whenever they can. My Dad offered to drive me, but I chose to begin this big adventure by myself.

I drive a 1998 ford F-250, meaning my truck gets horrible gas mileage, but she's a beast nonetheless. My duffel bags are tossed in the cab with me, along with a small cooler my mom packed with two turkey sandwiches, a couple apples, and 3 jars of homemade lemonade.

"You're sure you're going to be okay?" my mother asked in a worried tone, the one that all moms have.

"Yes mom, I have everything I need and I will be sure to call you"

"You better!" she proclaimed

I tell her I love her as I give her a goodbye hug and then I walk over to my truck, hop in, plug in my phone into the updated stereo and drive off to find my dad. Our driveway is long, but with stunning views of the valley in which our ranch is situated. While looking for my dad's green truck in the field, I spot him fixing his irrigation. I stop the car in the driveway and run out into the field, barreling out towards him and jumping, giving him a big hug.

"Bye Dad I'm headed out"

"Love you Roe, have the best time and always use common sense. Seems like noone has any these days"

I disregard his snarky comment and give him one final hug and then run back to the truck, seeing as I left it running.

After a rushed morning I am finally ready to leave the driveway and get on my way. Early 2000's rock music plays as the valley I call my home slowly leaves my sight as I get further and further from home.

A couple hours pass and I stop and get some gas, and get a pack of gum from the convenience store. I continue driving, cutting across the state of Idaho and into the state of Wyoming. The desert farmland is never-ending, just like the bugs hitting my windshield.

Just after crossing the Wyoming border, after 7 hours of driving, I open my cooler to decide what to eat. It's finally time for the turkey sandwich and some lemonade. I stop at the filthy rest-stop and find the cleanest picnic table I can, sit and then chow down on my sandwich. This section of the drive is painful, it's pretty ugly, there is a lot of traffic and the brain just gets bored. I let my brain wander, because after a while I get bored of the music.

I may have lied. The ranch is 40 minutes outside of Craig, pushed up right against the Wilderness Area. I am rolling into Craig at about 12:15 after 14 hours of non-stop driving and the town is pretty much dead. I stop at the gas station and refill my tank one last time, and then walk into the convenience store. I am not sure how much I will have access to the small town so I decided to stock up on some necessities. I got two 24-packs, one of Coors and one of apple Busch light (the best), some salt and vinegar chips, a pack of caramels and some starburst. I know what you may be thinking, and yes I am 18, and yes I have a fake because the small town life can be boring. With my hands full I walk about the cashier who looks like a ghost. I get out my fake and my card, two minutes later I am walking out of the store putting my haul in the toolbox in the back. I make sure to lock it because that is some valuable stuff I can't risk losing.

I finish the drive and arrive at the ranch around 1:30 am. The gate is locked, so I park right out front, rolled out my sleeping bag in the bed of my truck and just slept right there, after a beer of course.