To the rescue!

So our church youth group decided to go whitewater rafting down the Dechutes in Oregon. It is all about having a plan. And a great plan they had, up until the bus that someone was kind enough to loan them started smoking and making noises (they weren't "I think I can, I think I can" noises) as it was going up a hill. They did find someone to come tow the bus to a garage to be fixed and then got another ride in a bus of the yellow and old variety to carry them to the starting of the rafting trip. Total time of trip - 9 hours. Everyone held up pretty good and I am sure this will be one of those things that is talked about for a long time.

I am trying to get caught up on my blog with my 6 year old chattering in my ear at 90 miles an hour. I am not even sure if what I have written makes sense, but I do know that I have about 5 hair clips fastened to the arm sleeve of my sweatshirt and I am not even sure how long they have been there. Back to story...

The dilema now is how to get around 20+ people home. So my husband calls me up on Thursday and wants to know if I would like to spend some time with him on Friday. Suspicious? Of course I was, but I knew what he was up to and wanted to see just how clever he could be. He then proceeds to tell me he needs another driver for a large, and I mean 12 person large, passenger van. He would then drive the other van with a trailer on the back carrying one more car. He ups the anti by adding that we could both carry walkie talkies and talk all the way down (4-5 hours) AND he would buy me lunch. I am a sympathetic kind of wife and knew he was in a bind so I agreed. All was going well up until we stopped for gas at the Wolf Den in Wapato Washington.

Being the lovely and helpful wife that I am, I hopped out and popped open my gas tank so my husband could fill her up nice a full. I then turn around to hop back in my van only to find that the door had magically locked itself. Yes, I had LOCKED MYSELF OUT! Holy Crude! After banging my head against anything solid in sight as my husband patiently let me throw my fit we both worked on getting us in. My solution, a cute native american girl came up and offered me a slim jim (one of those doohickies that you slide down the window casing and magically pop the lock open). I smile at her and ask if she knows anyone that knows how to use it. My husband is rifling through the other van for something useful to open the door. The cute little girl goes and gets her Grandpa. I wish my camera wasn't locked in the van or I would have gotten pictures (but that was the last of my worries at the time). He was working that slim jim like no ones business when my husband comes up with an old pair of sunglasses, a large wrench and some needle nose pliers. Talk about McGyver. He pried the window of the side door up on the bottom with the wrench giving him about 1/2 inch work space. He then used the needles nose pliers and bent the end of the sunglasses into a tight hook. He pushed the end of the sunglasses up under the window, hooked it around the doorlock and presto, unlocked it. It took him less than 2 minutes to unlock it once he had the proper tools. You gotta love a man like that.
We bid farewell to our new friends and their slim jim. I would also like to note that even though there was a huge line to get to the gas pumps, not one person honked and most people were very sympathetic. I am thinking of moving there and opening a gas station just because the people are so nice. Maybe "The Wild Mustang".

We grabbed some food at the gas station and drove like maniacs to make up for lost time but we finally made it and were hailed as having saved the day. This is the group we rescued and YES they were all worth rescuing. Every single, wet and soggy one of them.
We had a great ride home, even though we rolled in after midnight. I figured that Mark and I were driving vans for over 12 hours, so we were pretty beat. What an adventure and oh by the way, Mark forgot the walkie talkies and my lunch was from the gas station. But I won't complain about that if he never mentions me locking the keys in the van.

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