Friday, April 5, 2013

Blazzin' Challenge

A lot of things can make a person happy after a long day. Retail therapy, getting a massage, venting to a friend or even just taking a walk. Well, for Mr. Kelley, what makes him happy is food and food challenges! Last night we had to drop off our brand new car at the dealership to have the crankshaft point sensor replaced (thank goodness for warranties) and pick up our rental.
For those of you who have followed along our journey, we haven’t had the best luck with cars but I honestly feel like life is going to slow down and be a little nicer to us from now on. Just me but I really do think it’s going to happen. Is this the talk of a woman who has reached her breaking point and has finally drifted off into madness? No, this is a woman who has finally gotten her anxiety under control and can see clearly now the fog of dread has dispersed.
So, after dropping off our car and heading home, Mr. Kelley was feeling really frustrated and I wanted to ease his suffering so I took him to Buffalo Wild Wings for the Blazin’ Challenge!

12 super hot, super drenched-in-fire-sauce wings in under 6 minutes. He’s got this.



The first thing we had to do was sign a waiver that told him that the restaurant and its subsidiaries, etc, were not held accountable for sickness or death and basically you are on your own if you try this. Comforting. But, John’s blue eyes sparkled with Irish mischief and I knew he’d be fine. 



Once the waiver was signed, 2 waitresses and a waiter walked out caring a flashing red light and the platter of hot wings to a roaring crowd. It was a bigger deal than I had imagined that’s for sure.  The crowd cheered as the waitress put the wings in front of John and started counting down, 5..4..3..2..1!! 



John dug right in, licking every wing dry and didn't even seemed phased by the sauce that has caused lesser men to cry. The restaurant was cheering and while filming, kept shouting his name. I was so proud of him


1 minute passed and so did 3 wings. Still trucking along, John kept a solid pace. 2 minutes, 3 minutes and finally 4 minutes passed and all but three of those fiery wings had found a new home in John’s belly. At 5 minutes he was making his final chews and proving he had indeed devoured everything set before him with no water, no wiping and leaking eyes as the sauce finally got to him.

5 minutes and 11 seconds and John has a free shirt and a title claimed!




So, even though the day was rough, life has been hard, we are happy and finding joy in our journey.


Love you John.


Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Easter in Millard County


I am a true testament to the fact that if you don’t write something down right away you’ll forget about it, details wise. Now, having said that, I would like to tweak that fact just a little. Here’s my version: “If you don’t write something down, something else is  going to happen that’s dramatic and you’re going to feel overwhelmed at the idea of writing.” So, let’s start with the most recent turn of events and work backwards.
Easter weekend was not what John and I expected. While we arrived in Fillmore with no scratches, we left with significant body damage. Our family tradition is to go four-wheeling, picnicking, horseshoe playing and sun bathing. We always go to Sugar Loaf in Millard County. This is an old volcano that has been asleep for hundreds of years and is now more or less a four-wheeling track.
Sugar Loaf Volcano

The View

The Windmill Project a.k.a. stonehenge

The trail is not for beginners, but since John had come with us last year and nothing had happened, I figured let’s go for it again! We both hopped on a machine and took off with my cousins and brothers. My mom said “be careful” and looked me right in the eye. It felt like she was saying this more forcefully than usual, but I ignored the feeling I had off we sped into the great wilderness desert.
We took some hills, bunny rabbit is what I call them, and were having so much fun!
After a while, John wanted to drive so we switched places. He tried to do a U-turn and the four-wheeler started tipping a little. I was freaked out, but John said he’d be careful so we took off. He drives a little slower when I’m with him and for good reason. I don’t like to go fast on something that isn’t entirely in my control. That’s the reason I don’t like horses. I like to look at them and pet them but I do not enjoy riding them.
We started up the incline that leads to the old windmill project from the 30’s (people say it looks like Stonehenge and they are right). The project was supposed to provide energy for the people of Millard County and was going to revolutionize the town. Unfortunately, the designer took all the money and ran once the Great Depression hit and the project was abandoned. My dad told me the story last year.
Anyway, so the trail is steep and you ride along a narrow path with volcano on one side and a sheer drop on the other. I’m no judge of distance, but I if I had to put it into perspective, it’s like falling off a 4 story building. Maybe higher. Our four-wheeler didn't have the best brakes, but we figured we’d be alright. As we turned to face the hardest part of the journey, a large boulder is partially revealed and once you ride on top of it, you are on more level ground which makes the final stretch a level shot to the windmills. The boulder is treacherous though. Imagine a path that has loose rock and gravel all around it and your one hope of not falling off the side of a mountain is the boulder that is about 30 degrees higher than the trail you are already riding. You square up your four-wheeler, press the gas and hope that you have enough grip to climb the rock to the level ground above. My palms sweat just thinking about it. If you can’t make it on the first try, you have to squeeze your breaks and gently roll down the boulder until you are back on the trail and then try again. There is no turning around, no backing too far down because if you do, you fall. End of story.
Well, John went to square up the boulder and unfortunately didn't get enough grip the first time. So as he went to squeeze the breaks, they failed. We were rolling off the side of a volcano, 4-5 stories down a gravelly slope of mountain which I was certain would be the last trip we ever made. The four wheeler tipped and since I was on back, I went first. I slid off the machine, screaming for help and landed on my behind. My pants slid up, something really hurt my wrist and I tumbled until I managed to stop.
I turned around and saw this 900 pound hunk of metal roll on top of my husband as he waited helplessly for it to pass. I thought he was dead. I was hysterical, crying and screaming but not able to stay where I was because this beast of a machine was rolling towards me. I tried to run, tried to move but wasn't able to do more than scramble to one side. Time seemed to stop and slow as I watched in horror as this rolling mass threatened to smash me into the ancient rock. I felt I had angered the mountain or did something wrong. How could I have been so careless to assume that I was invincible? My body was not exempt from pain or mangling, my cancer had taught me that.
I waited for the pain to come, but it never did. Instead our four-wheeler was stopped by a tree that was miraculously growing just in the right spot to create a barrier not to be crossed. This miracle was viewed in hindsight because all I could see was my husband’s face before the machine rolled over his helpless body. Tears streamed down my face as I screamed in anger and defeat. Dirt was inside my mouth, eyes and stung a cut that had formed from my split hand.
Suddenly I saw John sliding towards me asking if I was ok. I was so shocked all I could do was cry and ask him if he was alright. I sat, stunned and just sobbing. John went to inspect the four-wheeler as Jarom, my brother who we had followed up, ran towards us to assess the situation.
I was useless as they and other men who had traveled the same trail came down to help us out of our predicament. The other men were just some travelers from a neighboring town who were doing same Easter tradition as us. They started the four-wheeler up (miracle) and John helped them guide it back up the mountain. Jarom hitched a wench to the back of John so that as they traveled down this cursed volcano, he’d have some breaks.
At this point, was still crying, wondering why this had happened. Hadn't John and I been through enough? I failed so see the hand of God blessing us with help and a random tree to stop the four-wheeler and not to mention despite being squashed by an 800 pound machine, John emerged with little more than scratches. I was angry and sad, not to mention bitter at the circumstance but having had time to look over this I realized how lucky we were and how so many angels must have been on alert to help us.
We are loved. Heavenly Father has not abandoned us and despite our trials we are better because of them. John and I are strong and we will continue to be strong because of the love and faith we have in our God. Not to mention the wonderful family I have been born into. You could not find finer parents and more loving siblings than what I have; though I wish everyone were so lucky.