well we are going on our yearly vacation to Torrey, Utah soon, and here's just an explanation (to those who care) about why I love it so frikken much.
Surrounded by the hot canyons of Utah. The windy days, the still, cold nights, and the muddy rivers that are wide and have hidden sand holes here and there.
Always smells like coffee in the morning, and cleaned blankets at night. The short Mexican that cleans our cabins, he's hard to understand, but he's so funny. He got attacked by my cousin's dog.
The gravel that covers the ground, and is easy to slip on. The store that gives us free hot cocoa in the morning as long as it's before nine. They sell lots of douhnuts and candy. I spend way too much money there. The cocopella hats and the wolf and eagle t-shirts. That are all extra extra large.
The four oldest, (that includes me) get up before everyone else. We sneak out of the cabin, so quiet. We run outside, it's chilly, it's dark still. We run across the river to the indian traiding post. and walk in. The man at the desk recognizes us. The items are so pretty. Stone carved animals. Gems, giant knives, and suckers with bugs in them, I ate one, it was a maggot. I was payed. Soft Indian music is being played. It has so many memories.
After we look around, we run back across the street to the store. We get our hot coca. Jake always gets a maple bar too. We load up on coffee mate packets. Mainly to drink plane. Then we run to the pool. We hop the fence and put our feet in the hot tub. Mathew turns on his ihome and we listen to billy joel and basshunter. And we talk and drink our hot cocoa untill the little kids join. I just love it too much.
The rest of our day is different every time. There's hiking Hickman's bridge some days. We go to Fruita the others. To the monkey tree, to the wide river that we always try to travel down. But it hurts when you're barefoot. The mud is nice and cool. But slippery...We have way too many death encounters.
There's always the hours of swimming though. Before dinner time. We sit in the hot tub, then run to the pool and jump in. And nearly freeze to death. The pool is always a little too cold, and too many leavs floating on the surface, because it's under trees. The hot tub is always a little too hot, and way too much chlorine. If you stay in too long you get itchy. But I love it. It's what makes memories.
We play night games. Some little kids cry because we tackle them. By accident. Sometimes... the adults sit in a circle and talk by the light of the cabins. They laugh loudly, they pass out grandma's famous waffle cookies we can't get enough of.
Us teens go on a walk. Every night is different. One night we take the dog. She freaks us out by tugging towards the bushes. Maybe it's just a rabbit. But there's no street lamps, so we run away anyway. The other night we go to a bed and breakfast motell. We sneak into the grounds to explore. Dylan tries to get us to climb the stairs on the side of the building. But we are too afraid. So he does it. But the light turns on. So once again, we run away, screaming and laughing.
When we get back, exahsted and scared. The parents didn't even know we were missing. We feel like coming back from war. No one cares. It's what makes us laugh. Now we are tired. We go back to the pool. Hop the fence again, and sit on the padio. Throwing rocks in the water at the drowning moths that flew too close. The lights are on under water. Making things peacefull. Bats swoop down, we only catch glimpses. But it's enough.
We stay up late, we shoot our slingshots. Play in the cabins with cards and cake. When we go to bed, I fall asleep to the sound of NFL football playing on the T.V in the main room. And I wit for tomarrow.
Torrey is one of the best places on Earth to me. Our family reunions take place there every year. When the time approaches everyone is so Exited we want to bounce off walls. It's tradition that will never get old, and never be new. Our times are coming to an end though. Cousins get married, movie away, and go on missions. Soon, things will never be the same. It hurts to imagen life without Torrey. We love Torrey. We would die without that perfect weekend there every labor day.
I love you Torrey. Please never change. Even though the family will. As long as you keep your old fashoned country ways. You're perfection will never be forgotten.
From; The Chesnut/Allen family.