Wednesday, June 17, 2009

ATV Adventure

I spent last week in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico.

I know, it’s a hard life, but someone has to live it. And I’m paid well to do so. Well, okay, not really paid per se, but it was an all expenses paid trip. By my in-laws. And they were there. But *believe it or not* I’m NOT going to complain about that! Well, at least not in this first blog… But no, in all honesty, it was a great trip. Probably thanks to the separate room they got for us. A little reprieve, you know?

So anyway, being an all-expenses-paid, in-law attended vacation, we were able to do a few more things than we otherwise might have done. For one thing, we had built in, overly willing babysitters. For another thing, we actually had a little money. And when I say a little money, what I mean is, my in-laws were willing to pay. Oh, don’t give me that look, I never said they were bad people!

On one of our otherwise impossible excursions, we went ATV-ing. (good word, I’m sure Webster will include it next year.) So first off, you get about 15 seconds of “instruction” the majority of which you can’t understand, being as the “instructor” (who, incidentally, introduced himself as Larry) has a ridiculously thick accent, is definitely trying to be funny, and I’m pretty sure is hitting on the females (there were only two of us, it was pretty obvious). Second of all, the 15 seconds of instruction have more to do with the bandana and goggles you have to cover your face with. Plus, the dude has obviously been riding ATVs since he was 6 months old. And I’m not talking about on the back of his Daddy’s ride either. I mean all by his little lonesome. He’s so used to it, he doesn’t even know what he SHOULD be instructing us on anymore. All he cares about is that we’re paying 50 bucks a pop to ride the things for a couple hours.

And then he takes off down the trail, looking back maybe twice on the half hour drive up and down mountains over rocky terrain to the beach, generally just holding up fingers to let us know what gear to use as we climb the next hill or go over the next cliff.

Personally, I think I did great. I kept up, I didn’t stall going up any hills (my husband did…Ha!), I didn’t freak out while flying over precipice after precipice. I was damn good. The other chick freaked out so bad they left her ATV behind and she had to squeeze in behind the instructor for the remainder of the ride (and believe me when I say the seats aren’t intended for two). So great, I’m proud of myself, I’m awesome.

He gives us an hour of free time. This is the “highlight” of the tour. Basically we have 20 feet of beach to ride on before a “Mexican fence” (ie ragged branches shoved into the sand at distant and inconsistent intervals) separates us from the $2000 fine we’ll be charged for driving on the Federali protected portion of the beach, and a whole lot of cliffs up and down to the 20 feet of beach, and a few ridiculously rocky trails up into the mountains.

So we ride around for a bit, me following my hubby (who was surprisingly cautious, seeing as he’s male and all) and then I’m given the lead. Well, clearly I have to show off a little bit. I’m starting to love the cliffs. The straight down free-falling feeling…it’s exhilarating, what can I say? So I take off in the direction of the biggest ones, and at the last second decide to do one of the smaller ones on the way. It wasn’t a well thought out plan, just an impulse. UP to the top and DOOOOWN…and that’s when I see the Mexican fence two feet in front of me, just before a literal cliff in the SAND. Fuck. I swerve my ATV just as quick as I can (good idea, no?) and instantly feel the beach slide out from under my tires, feel the 398pound vehicle tipping, tipping oh so slowly tipping. So what do I do? Well, duh, I panic. What the hell else would I do? I throw myself off and into the sand.

For one tiny fraction of a second I almost laugh to myself. I’m fine, what a doof, I can’t believe I panicked. And that’s when I feel the hot metal touch my leg. I actually watched in slow motion as a 398lb (I looked it up) machine crushed my leg. Holy crap, that’s a lot of weight. You’d be shocked, you really would. So I take a deep breath, knowing my husband was right behind me, I stay calm, it’ll be off in only a second.

The brilliant man runs over to me, asks if I’m okay. “I have a fucking ATV on top of me, no, I’m not okay. Take it off!” I actually said it in a fairly stable voice, not yelling at all, I was more than a little proud of myself. I even took the moment to tell myself how proud I was. Positive reinforcement, you know.

And then he says, “Oh, hold on a sec.” And I hear him taking off his helmet and goggles, even the bandana over his mouth. Oh yes, this was necessary before he lifted the FOUR HUNDRED FUCKING POUND ATV off of me. Well, I may or may not have lost it then, but you’ll never meet Larry and my husband knows what's good for him, so we won’t get into specifics.

You’ll be glad to know I’m fine. Not even bruised. Did you hear that? NOT EVEN BRUISED!! Come one, you have an ATV fall on top of you, you want to be able to tell someone about it! You want people to see the massive bruise up and down your entire leg and ask, “My God, what happened?” You want some fricking sympathy!! But no, oh, and I’ve got pictures to prove it, NO, there’s NO bruise. Well, really, there’s a little bit of a bruise, I keep pointing it out to the brilliant husband, trying to incur his sympathy, I can trace the outline, it was a very faint blue at it’s worst, the yellow almost looked worse than the blue, but now it’s gone. That was last Thursday. Less than a week and I couldn’t prove to you that I’d been squashed under 400lbs of machine for the life of me. My mother in law stubbed her toe in April and her entire foot and ankle turned black and blue for weeks. She still has a bit of bruise on the toe. Two months later. A week later and I’ve got nothing. At most I had a faint blue outline. Damn it, that blows. Cause it’s a good story, right?? Imagine the conversations I *could be* having.


  1. Hahaha! I guess having imaginary conversations with yourself is better than having to pay a $2000 fine, no?

  2. Glad you're okay, so sorry you don't have the battle wounds to prove your story ;) BTW--Cabo sounds fabulous now.

  3. Oh honey, I've done the same thing! My hubs used to go with his buddies all the time. I whined and whined until he let me go and I tip the damn thing over onto my leg in the first ten minutes. I then whined for ten days. He hasn't taken me since. Go figure.