Soul Enema

Have you ever wondered how to get that “just-washed-squeaky-clean� feeling in your soul? Just take a ride in a naked jeep. Consider driving it down the freeway, exiting to take Mulholland Highway through the mountains, taking a brief and terrifying foray down a dirt trail, singing in a mountain tunnel, dipping your feet in the surf at Zuma at midnight, and then heading home via the PCH, cutting up through another canyon to then coast through the sleeping city toward home. Despite some objections to the title, I’m calling this experience a “soul enema.�

Such were the happenings several nights ago, when Jenna, Andy and I were hanging out with Jason. Jason is the proud owner of the freedom machine, a fantastic old black jeep that goes “topless� and often doorless for much of the long California summer. We piled in late in the evening, none of us quite ready to re-enter the stuffy indoors of video games, internet surfing and movies, and all of us ready for an adventure.

The jeep took off flying down the 101, and I was indebted to the geese who gave their lives so I could be wrapped tightly in a down blanket. It was so freaking cold! Soon we exited the freeway and began a twisty trek along Mulholland Highway. At one point, as we rounded a turn and accelerated toward the next we spotted drums in the back of a truck parked in the turnout, so we did a quick u-turn and enjoyed some country music under the stars with our new friends from Pepperdine. Those moments were truly magical.

After two songs, we continued on our way and the soft sounds of guitar plucking and the warm romantic feelings inside generated by the music quickly faded as Jason began to enact his evil plan. He had refused to tell us where he was taking us, and we began to fear the worst. Jenna whispered, “He’s secretly an axe murderer and he’s going to take us down a dirt road and hack us to pieces!â€? Andy was less discreet, and openly accused Jason of homicidal intentions. And sure enough, we soon found ourselves bumping down a dark, dirt road marked “Private!,â€? “Keep Out!,â€? and “No Trespassing!â€? Our fear mounted as the initial warnings were repeated 100 yards down the jolting driveway. Andy, at this point, decided to abandon the vehicle, and Jenna and I begged Jason to turn around. Much to our surprise, he obliged our request! Andy climbed back in, Jenna and I settled back into our seats, but the wicked Jason proceeded to continue on the path backwards! He claimed that this was being “smart about it,â€? because in case we ran into any trouble, he could punch the accelerator and have the benefit of being pointed in the right direction. My fear of Jason killing us quickly and easily transferred to fear of the hillbillies killing us! We started passing abandoned cars and trucks and boats, precarious structures made out of sheet metal and pieces of wood, and heaps of trash. All the while we were holding on with white knuckles, bumping madly down the pothole filled, steep dirt trail. The dust swirled around the vehicle as Jenna and I reached official freak-out status, then without warning….!

… want to take a guess as to what happened?????