Ready for Distressing.

On vacation, moms don’t want to pack their superhero capes.  We work hard during the week doing dishes faster than a speeding bullet.  Managing multiple schedules in a single bound.  Tackling heavy bags of groceries with more power than a locomotive.  Next family break, I hung up the cape and became the damsel in distress instead.

We were looking for something to do for President’s Day weekend, four days of nothing seemed daunting.  We planned a last minute trip to the beach.  “Let’s ride ATVs in Pismo Beach!” exclaimed my husband.  Seventy-degree weather drove us to southern California for a little fun, sun and adventure.  I was up for two out of three if you know what I mean.

Mine.

With no time to plan the ATV ride, the hubby delegated the job to me.  I’m not feeling very qualified, I am a damsel.  I want to be helpless.  What do I know about ATVs?  My adventure began before we even left.  Thank God for my first heroes, the Internet and Yelp.

I learned from ATV rental sites, Pismo Beach attracts a different crowd, plenty of Confederate flags and dangerously dangling clotheslines strung from RVs in all the wrong places.  It doesn’t really seem fit for a mom or a damsel.  I kept reading and found reviews by girls that weren’t thrilled about riding an ATV but had a blast in the end.  I was slightly encouraged.  One gal used BJ’s ATV rental and gave it a high rating.  Bingo.

When we arrive at BJ’s, nobody at check-in looked like me, as in mom or a damn damsel.  A dad and his young son pull in next to us.  I can’t help but notice the pair is missing an important element.  “Where is mom,” I ask.  “She’s getting a pedicure with our daughter.”  I’m jealous.

Our training is fast.  We learn how to turn on the machines.  How to change gears and get out of snags, like don’t try to turn around going up a hill.  We are told NOT to go to the first orange fence even though it seems everyone is going that way; it’s for advanced riders.  And kids, follow your parents.  We broke a few of the rules.

The four of us take off.  We find the orange fences; they are next to each other like an entrance to an event, one big welcome.  We don’t see any other way to go so we proceed. (We realize later, one side is fence one and the other is fence two.)  Immediately I detect trouble.  The path is a very steep downhill ride to the more open spaces.  I see deep, steep funnel shaped craters with narrow paths surrounding them.  I see TJ stuck in one.  I’m starting to sweat.  My ATV wants to go to him.  I don’t want to be a superhero or a damsel here.  “Don’t do it.  Stay left!” cries my hubby.

I make it through.  Hubby throws on his superhero cape to rescue TJ.  This is not my world AT ALL.  I couldn’t be a superhero if I tried.  We collect in one spot and continue on.  We climb another steep, steep hill.  Alex gets stuck.  I am behind him.  Super-Hero Dad comes to the rescue again.  I am ready to quit after 15 minutes.  This is way too scary for me.  It seems far too risky, especially for a damsel.  I tell hubby we need to turn around.   We missed an orange fence some place; I think we got sucked into the vortex of advanced riders.  He finally agrees.

The Kid.

The only problem, there is only one scary way out for Alex and me, the way we entered.  Dad and TJ are on the other side of scary and must find their own way out.  We both got stuck going back.  You can’t just walk your bikes out of there or slide down on your butt holding your equipment.  We are just not strong enough to rock the bikes out of the ruts.  Super-Hero Dad to the rescue!  He flies over the hill on his ATV, parks and drives each bike out and up the steep hills, thick with loose sand.  “You can’t be afraid to gas it,” he instructs Alex and the damsel.

Super-Hero Dad leads us back to the entrance of the dunes.  Alex is trying to tell Dad this IS the park.  We need to stay to the right.  When all we can see is ocean going one way and dunes the other, we conclude Alex is correct.  We take off, after Alex.  Dad and TJ take a scary way in and Alex and I go around.  We lose the others.  I think we need to turn around.  Alex firmly disagrees.  “They will find us.  Let’s ride!”  So we did.  I followed The Kid everywhere.  He was so controlled and confident, a hero-in-the-making.  The other two caught up with us, just as The Kid predicted.

We sped around up and down the bunny hills.  Now it was fun.  We watched Road-Warrior dragsters stream in and out of sight.  We saw cute, bright-colored Baja Bugs bop around like in Scooby Doo.  It felt so 70s, so Evil Knievel.  Just as we got the hang of it, it was time to go back.  Which way?  All those sand dunes look alike.

ATV Armor.

Warning: Pants will melt.

I looked at Super-Hero Dad, “When all else fails, follow the twelve-year-old.”  This became our mantra.  Kids remember far better.  This is the perfect place for a damsel, right behind her hero.  Alex was right the entire way, getting us back safe and sound.

At the end, I’m pulling off my shoes to shake out the sand.  I notice my pant leg is melted into Swiss cheese from hugging my ATV for dear life.  My mascara is streaked from all the sand seeping into my eyes.  I vow to wear false eyelashes next time, like a camel and a damsel.

My husband exclaims, “Guys.  Thank your mom.  How many moms would do this?”  Oh thank GOD!  I bit.  “That’s exactly what I was thinking.  Next outing we are ALL going for mani-pedis!”  Only problem, I think the guys are wimps, too ticklish.