For the 4th of July we all went up to Idaho and spent the week doing amazing things with amazing people in an amazing place. We kayaked in the most pure mountain lake you've ever seen, Wade Lake. It was really quite remarkable. and then we decided to drive the RZRs over the mountain to West Yellowstone to take in the parade. (here's a piece of life advice for you: never drive the last vehicle in any off road convoy.) Somewhere along the way I lost my phone on that 20 mile trail. The plus side is that I knew it was somewhere on that trail. The down side is that it was 20 miles long. After the parade we all piled back in and drove looking for it all the way. Before leaving West, Brett pulled over and asked if we should say a prayer before searching for it. I asked David to do the honors. He said the sweetest and most heartfelt prayer you've ever heard.
"Heavenly Father, please help us find dAddie's phone. Help us find it before... well just before. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen." And he left it open ended like that.
We found the darn thing. Not a scratch on it. It fell out of my pocket going 20 mph on the ledge of steep drop on the side of a mountain. Heaven knows how many people drove right by it and probably noticed it (it is obnoxiously turquoise) and yet there it was 3/4 the way back to the cabin, 18" from tumbling down the side of the mountain where it would have fallen 150' easily and never been seen again.
The cool thing about that happened later that evening. While we were driving the trail looking for the phone, Meemah Buhpah and Mackay were covering ever inch of Island Park Village to see if it was there. That reminded Meemah of a phone she had found months earlier just out in the lot and simply forgotten about. A young woman had lost it in the snow while snow machining last winter and after the melt off Connie just happened upon it. In the excitement of finding my phone, she showed the phone to Jan and Truman who immediately recognized the girl and her father and the two boys on the front screen wallpaper. Her dad was the HS baseball coach in Rexburg and a convert to the church, she was a recently returned missionary, one boy was her brother and the other her good friend.
The good friend had recently committed suicide just as he was set to leave on his mission. His family was in Jan and Brett's ward and it was a pretty hard thing for everyone, as it had just happened a few months ago. The thing is, on that phone were some of the last pictures of that young man before he passed. When Jan contacted the young woman to see if she would like her phone back she was elated to be able to recover those pictures and give them to the boy's mother.
There was a catch however, she was only in town that weekend for the holiday and off to work in another state the next day, early. Had we returned that phone a day later she would not have been able to share that tender mercy with the boys mother for quite some time. "Help us find it before..." indeed David. The faith of a child is great.
Now let's jump back in our story to just after we found my phone on the trail.
Excited that we found it we decided to enjoy the rest of the trip home and stop in "The Playground"-- a couple of acres that has turned into one heck of a great place to ride atv's. Brigham drove for the first time ever and after 30 minutes or so, he actually got to be pretty good at maneuvering a vehicle. After chasing the hills for a while we pulled up side by side and David shouted to me, "Dad, can Truman drive that RZR and can I go with him?" How could I say no? Truman is one heck of a driver. He's a junior in high school and I'm pretty sure that if he wanted to compete professionally in motocross he could because he is very talented and quite fearless. There's a reason Dave wanted to ride with him.
Now picture this in your mind's eye. A six year old--blonde hair flowing in the wind. Summer vacation in one of the most beautiful corners of the world. A RZR going all out and all around this dirt wonderland. That six year-old sitting next to his teenage cousin--whom he idolizes.
And speed.
Truman pulled up to the intersection and he blasted out the tightest, fastest and most impressive donuts you've ever seen. The front left wheel pivoted around a point and the rear wheel practically dug a trench -- sideways. He only turned four times but the dirt cloud those two built was impenetrable. After they blasted off down the road a pickup truck happened to be coming out from the old Mill and they stopped. They waited for 5 minutes, afraid to drive into the cloud because they couldn't see two feet in front of their bumper. It was ridiculous. And amazing.
But the most amazing thing actually happened on turn #3. It was already so thick that you could only see Truman and David as they came to the near side of the turn, then they would disappear back into the cloud. You have to think that something that fast and that violent would scare the average 6 year-old. But Dave is not your average anything. As he came into view I feared I would see him gripping the handle bar with anxiety and trepidation--that would have been the appropriate reaction.
What I saw, however, I will never...ever forget.
David Taft emerged from the pale brown cloud with both hands held high in the air out in front of his face. Fingers clenched in Ozzy Osborne style rocker horns, head back, eyes almost closed, screaming in the most pure and honest enjoyment of life that a child that age could imagine. It was amazing. Like seriously.
I pray that every one gets a chance to feel that at least once in their life. It really doesn't get any better. Thank you Truman.
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