Dad was going on a three week trip to Europe, and wanted to take me out to dinner before he flew out. However, instead of going to a nice sit-down restaurant, we fled to the mountains in my Xterra to escape the heat. And so I could take pretty pictures of the mountains while they were still green and blooming with wildflowers. 

Unfortunately, it seemed like damn near every Denverite had the same idea as we did. Plus, there was a concert at Red Rocks. So, we went where Subarus and rental Teslas couldn’t go; onto some random public land trails that weaved between mountains and mines around Idaho Springs. 

“You’ve got a skid plate on this thing, don’t ya?” Dad asked as he drove the Xterra as I leaned out the window with my camera. 

“Uh, no. No I don’t.” I shook my head, “I only got the stock rock-sliders you keep telling me to get rid of.”

“Oh.” Dad responded, “No matter. It’ll be fine.”

“Ya break it, ya buy it.” I reminded him, rolling my eyes, “Also, I have class in the mornin’, so this better be drivable.”

“Maya, Maya, Maya…” Dad chuckled, “You could throw this thing off a cliff and it’ll still be drivable.”

“I can only hope…” I mumbled. 

For awhile, the road was just fine, albeit steep and narrow. While Dad drove, I leaned out the window with my camera, taking pictures of old mines and granite mountainsides sprinkled with colorful flowers, nodding our heads to Creed Fisher’s Hank Crankin’ People. The Xterra took to those mining trails comfortably in just two-wheel-drive; comfortable enough for me to get some very clear pictures of our surroundings despite the rocks and potholes all over the trail.

All was well, and I was relaxed and content. Well… that was until Dad got an idea when he noticed me putting my camera away.

“Why don’t you drive?” He asked with an ornery grin, “You gotta get used to this somehow.”

“A’ight.” I agreed, “I’ll give ‘er a try.”

We switched places and resumed on our journey. For a hundred yards or so, everything was easy as the dirt roads around Elizabeth, Colorado. But, then we came around a hairpin turn and were greeted by a sign with rusty buckshot holes through it that read, “4X4 REQUIRED! DO NOT TRUST YOUR GPS! NO CELL SERVICE UP HERE!"

“That’s quite the sign.” I chuckled nervously as I stared at the extremely steep and rocky road ahead. Evidently, the rainy weather had done a lot of damage to that road, as the water had eroded the soil away, leaving behind giant granite boulders and deep ruts along the shoulder against the mountainside. 

“Ah, it’ll be just fine.” Dad said, “Just go slow and steady in four-low.”

“Four-low?” I asked. 

“Yeah,” Dad replied, “So you can go slow and steady o’er these rocks, especially since you don’t have a skid plate protecting the undercarriage.”

I switched into four-low and very slowly began our ascent up the bouldery mining trail, trying not to think about all that could go wrong. But again, the Xterra seemed to be in its natural habitat. I was the one who was out-of-place and inexperienced, which my dad quickly realized when I misjudged where a pit in the road was and triggered the ABS. 

“Uhhhh…” I nervously growled as the Xterra refused to spin its tires. 

Dad reached over and turned off the ABS, “Now it should work.”

I held down the gas pedal, but the tires only spun, kicking up huge rocks against the side of my Xterra and digging deeper into the shale beneath us. 

“Dad, I think we’re stuck.” I nervously glanced at him, knowing damn well the single tow strap I had in the trunk couldn't get us unstuck. 

“No, we’re not.” Dad rolled his eyes, “Back up a bit and go at it again, faster this time. Gotta get enough momentum to get over that little pit.”

Cautiously, I backed up a few feet then charged at the pit in the road. I would've made it, had the boulder not shifted, causing the front right tire to slip right back down into the hole with a painfully loud crack!

"Oof." I cringed. 

"It's all good." Dad assured, "The front bumper can take it. Try again."

Again, I backed up and then charged at the rock even faster, finally getting over it and catching a little air in the process. 

"Holy shit!" I shouted as I panicked and slammed on the brake pedal. 

"What the hell'd you do that for? You had it!" Dad asked, "You shoulda kept going!"

"I did?" I questioned, wide-eyed, "But we fuckin' launched that time."

"Yeah. That's how you do it." Dad smiled, "When you get over stuff like this, you're gonna catch some air. That's okay. This thing's built for that."

"But won't that take out the mudflaps or somethin?" I asked, "I mean, those back tires don't leave the ground, so it'll just crush those mudflaps and cause more problems. Can't they pierce the tires if they snap the wrong way?"

"You don't need those stupid mudflaps." Dad laughed, "Plus, those tires we got have a six year warranty and can probably handle driving over a box of nails. C'mon now, stop overthinking it! Give 'r hell!"

Taking my dad's advice, I lurched the Xterra forward, once again spinning tires as I tried to get the right rear tire over that stupid hole. Unfortunately, however, I got spooked and stopped when I head (and felt) another loud crack, that time coming from the rear of the Xterra. 

"Can we switch?" I asked, "I can't do this shit anymore. I quit."

"Oh, alright." Dad laughed as we stepped out of the Xterra, "But I need you to stand out here and watch those tires. That way, you'll know where you need to place 'em in a situation like this."

"What about the mudflaps though?" I whined. 

"What about the mudflaps?" Dad whined back, teasing me, "Don't worry about those things. If they break, I'll replace 'em. You gotta just... relax. Take a chill pill, kiddo! Your Xterra will be just fine. If not, I'll fix it ASAP. If it can't be fixed- which it will- I'll replace it and you can drive my 2023 Santa Fe till we do. Deal?"

"Ok..." I sighed, "I'll try to calm down."

"Alright!" Dad clapped his hands as he got into the front seat, "Now watch and learn!"