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Note: I'm not quite sure what to title this piece. I'm torn between these titles:
"Shitbox Shenanigans"
"Just Jeep Things"
"A Wild Jeep in its Natural Habitat"
"That's not Our Tow Strap, Is It?"
"That's not the Clutch, is it?"
"Snow Wheelin"
"Whose Bad Idea Was This?"
"Where the hell even are we?"
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Warily, I followed in my family’s footsteps onto the hard, wet concrete of the newly renovated neighborhood swimming pool. I was the only one in the group not wearing a swimsuit underneath my clothes, mostly because I knew I hadn’t yet garnered the courage to go swimming. Just being in the mere presence of chlorinated water made my palms clammy. I struggled to keep myself from breathing shallowly as the scent of pool water drifted into my nostrils. It had been five years since I last got that close to a swimming pool. Five. Long. Years.
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Shriveled, blaze orange leaves still clung to the twisted, lichen peppered branches of the gamble oaks, dripping with moisture from the year’s final snowfall. On the ground below the oaks, new grass was coming to life, painting the floor of the entire valley an emerald green. Nearby flame willows lined the entirety of the creek, providing cover from the sleet. The cottonwoods were still mostly bare, but little leaf buds were beginning to sprout from the highest branches. Soon, those trees would be full and green, much like the various breeds of pine trees that grew alongside them.

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Early one morning, I was once again in search of adventure. Racing down Simms, blasting Greg Graffin through the radio (specifically Graffin's song Echo on the Hill), I had my heart set on checking out Red Rocks amphitheater, after not visiting it for a couple years.
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Twenty years old. Just the thought of turning twenty years old makes me woozy. Yet, I have officially been on this earth for two long decades. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it for eternity; I did not expect to live this long.
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