Hey gang! Let's go to Georgetown, Colorado. It's a lovely little Victorian town only a couple of miles down from Loveland Pass. Home of the Slacker Half Marathon. Andy has been signed up for months, and he's really looking forward to it. It's all downhill. Ironically, as it happens, both literally and figuratively.

Andy's brother John, has driven over from Colorado Springs in his new Jeep. He wants to do some off-roading.

About 30 minutes after they've left, this:

OH.MY.GOD. How many episodes of Scooby Doo involved an old mine? 

Is Andy Shaggy or Scooby?
I'm pretty sure John is Fred.

30 minutes later, this:

And this:

Throughout all this, I'm worried because it's starting to get dark and there are signs warning about bears and falling rocks and deer. See?
Actually, this is about the only wildlife I saw. Disappointing, but that's for another post.
I still don't know if Andy is Scooby or Shaggy. But I do know that although I started off pretty Velma-ish, I didn't end up that way. Or Daphne-ish, for that matter. I called several towing/rescue companies, and no one was willing to go out until the next morning. I flagged down people in the streets driving 4-wheel drives, even an H3. No dice. After a couple of hours, I was acting like a total girl. I cried to several random campers, a campground manager, and a Sheriff that my husband and his brother were lost at over 12,000 feet.

Like all episodes, a happy ending.

Yay! Scooby Snack await at Mother's Bar, in town.

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