Twelve hours after leaving camp, I returned to find absolute carnage.
What was a lovely grassy field yesterday had turned into a demonic, muddy,
truck eating, identity. I swear I heard the “thing” growl from the top of
the hill - oh, never mind that was just a quartet of diesels at 3,000 RPMs.
There were trucks strewn everywhere stuck, sunk, smoking -- oh boy. We
arrive in a tiny car and zip thru the sidelines of the roadway where there
is still some grass for grip, and we got stuck.. and pushed it out, then
made it to the trailer. THEY FINISHED!!!!! Ponyboy looked fabulous,
still evil, not tired enough to behave.. His rider still shocked she
actually made it (that making two of us), then got telling her story, and it
started to sink in. I got reports he behaved most of the day… are we sure we
are talking about my pony?
