Random Truth January 11 2012

The summer when I was 10, my family and I went to Oregon (I think I've mentioned this before) to visit my uncle. A couple of nights of our trip, we stayed at this game preserve in Eastern Oregon, called Great Expectations. They had a John Deere Gator vehicle-type thing, and anyone can drive them. My brother taught me how to drive it, and one time during this trip my dad, uncle, and brother went shooting at the range there (they didn't actually shoot animals, just clay targets). I convinced my mom to let me drive so we could pick them up. Now, Eastern Oregon is FILLED with mountains and cliffs and whatnot, so it was a downhill drive from the range to the house we were staying at. So, everyone loaded on to the Gator and we headed back. The gearshift was really hard to maneuver, so my mom had to operate it for me. She told me it was in drive, but really it was in neutral so we were just rolling down the hillside but it felt like I was driving. I noticed that the engine was making a weird sound (as it wasn't actually working at all), and as we gained momentum I started freaking out. I finally had to slam on the brakes! Needless to say, I wasn't very happy with Mom. Everyone was safe in the end, but it was still really scary.