Follow the yellow brick road...

... especially if you got faulty directions from google maps.

I love my husband. Today made me realize this fact more than ever. His number one virtue is patience, most definitely. The road trip we took from Salt Lake City to Sun Valley, Idaho is a stellar example of Jimmy's never ending patience. (Get ready for this... we took notes on the trip.)

We were cruisin' along on I15, going just above the speed limit that we were going faster than everyone else on the road, but slowly enough that we wouldn't get caught. At the the exit right before our exit (yes, the one directly before our exit- this is an example of cruel irony)- there was an accident. Supposedly a large accident, because all I15 traffic was directed off the highway on to a parallel highway. Now, I don't know about the intellect of the highway patrol in California, but judging by the next paragraph, the highway patrol in Utah do not have a high level of said intellect. I will not get into many gory details (*but if you like gory details, scroll down to the captioned pictures.) It took us FOUR FREAKIN' HOURS TO GO THREE MILES!!!! That ratio is highly unproductive. I know-I'm good at math. There are probably two reasons why this ratio came to pass.

1) The Staff- At the beginning of the detour, there were policemen directing all vehicles where to go. It seems that they took a lunch break, or fell asleep or did their grocery shopping somewhere in the middle there (who knows? we were in the traffic jam for four hours... they could have done a lot with that time.) Luckily, we knew our way around and knew how to get back on the highway, because all of those cute men in uniforms completely disappeared! Vanished. Toodles. By the time we got back on the main highway, they had already opened it up for traffic. Which means, by default, that if we had just sat on the side of the highway and waited for the accident to be cleaned up, we could have put the car in park, taken a nap and saved 3 hours and $1,245 in gas.

2) The Route- The alternate route was under construction- UNDER CONSTRUCTION!!! That repetition in all caps says it all, friends.

After hopping back on the highway, we had smooth sailing- for approximately 7 seconds. Then, Kaitlin started to be the navigator. She would say, "Mom, we are now on Doggy mountain. Take the next left to Christian Valley and then over Princess Mountain..." (I thought the Christian Valley was pretty inventive) On and on with the fake directions for about and hour then a, "Mom, now the directions say it smells like poo."

"Mmm Hmm... yeah, doggy mountain, christian valley, that's inventive Kaitlin, princess mountain, yeah... ok... poo, mmm hmm-WHAT?!"

"Yeah, Mother- poo."

"Do you have to go poo?"

"Yeah."

Aww, crap- she didn't go crap, I said crap.

We pull over for a nonexistent bowel movement and get back on the highway.

Yes, just in time for a huge dust storm. I feel like Dorothy, tumbleweeds swirling around our car, the whipping wind and- of course, the lady resembling a witch riding her bike past us with her own theme music.

Although the storm was frightening, it was pretty cool to see an actual tumbleweed. Never saw one of those outside of a cheese ball old western before.

Enough has happened to us already, right? Wrong! All that dust came through our vents and made me have a very dry nose. It started to itch. I needed a tissue. Jimmy used the last tissue around marker 173 for a cut on the ear inflicted by Kaitlin's unkempt but polished pink fingernail... yeah, not telling that story. So, I had to reach over the seat and grab a paper towel and swerve off the road and make Jimmy scream and also make Jimmy write on the notes for this blog, "Stephanie nearly KILLLED everyone so she could blow her nose. 'Do you want me to stop breathing?!' asks Stephanie in her standard dramatic way." Just so it's clear, I am not dramatic. I am expressive.

We get almost to Sun Valley and completely pass Sun Valley and get lost in a National Forest. We stop and unknowingly ask for directions from a grieving woman attending a memorial service. How were we supposed to know it was a memorial service- in a National Forest? Come on, people. Turn back toward Sun Valley, almost run out of gas, fill up at a random gas station still looking for the resort. Wait awhile until someone else comes to fill up. Pounce on unsuspecting victim in a quest for proper directions. Find out resort is across the street behind some trees. After an eight and a half hour car trip (that was only supposed to take 3) I heard the Hallelujah Chorus. Not after being married or childbirth or even the arrival of our economic stimulus check have I heard the Hallelujah chorus- but I did then. And then I thought, 'I don't think we're in Napa anymore, Toto..."

*Gory details

This was some of the beautiful scenery. This place was lovingly stared at for 27 minutes.

And these beauties were stared at for 14 minutes.

But, we fell in love with this gem within the first 9 minutes.

*Not so gory, but awfully cute

Look at that huge bed! She looks so tiny in it! We got to the resort and got to watch the dress rehearsal for their ice skating show. Kaitlin asked when she would be getting a pair of 'ice scoots'. The journey was worth it for that saying alone.