The Great American Road Trip (Including Parts of Canada!) Conclusion

(Catch up here:  Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5.)

The only thing scarier than a nun in the middle of a country road at 2 a.m?  Being surrounded by large (and not surprisingly, hairy) mountain men.

"OH MY GOD WE'RE GOING TO DIE!!!"  I screamed just as one of the serial killers reached his hand out to Dan.

"Hi, we're the local volunteer rescue, heard there's been an accident?"

Oh.

By that time the nun was making her way into the front seat of Dana's truck while Digs, Bree MastAH and I were in the back seat, arms locked in full support of kicking any nun's ass that dared step out of line.  Dana looked over his shoulder.  "We're just going to take her to the convent to pick up her sister."

The nun said quietly.  "They're going to be so upset about the car."

I still was NOT buying this lady's story and hello?  Forgiveness?  Wasn't that supposed to be their niche?  I clenched Dig's and BreemastAH's arms harder as we drove up a narrow dirt road to the "convent."  

Now, I heard convent and had visions of sweet faced nuns singing "How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria" while seemingly floating on their path of righteousness.  I did not expect to drive up to a hovel in the middle of the woods, the likes of which grew real life Freddy Krugers or Jasons.  Guess which one we drove up to?  (Hint:  Julie Andrews?  Nowhere in sight.)

Digs and I looked at each other and promptly lobbied, albeit unsuccessfully, Dana to turn the truck around the moment the nun ran up to the steps to the front door (so NOT the Stairway to Heaven).  We were still yelling "gooooo!" when the nun and her sister climbed back into the truck.  

The six of us made our way in silence.  

I had calmed down.  Slightly.  But was still eyeing the nuns suspiciously.  How did her sister get out to the car so quickly when she had on her full nun regalia?  They didn't sleep in those things, did they?  I was just about to ask, when I looked up and saw something that cracked me up.  

You know the hysterical giggles?  The kind of laughter you know damn well (sorry sisters) comes at the complete wrong time and place, so you try and hold it in but your body starts shaking and your eyes start watering and you try and talk but you can't because of the big guffaws that come out of your mouth and NOTHING can stop it no matter how hard you try?  That was me.

Digs and BreemastAH looked at me unsure if I was crying or having a seizure.  I barely managed to point to the windshield before I was doubled over.  They looked up to see what the hell (sorry again sisters) had struck me as being so funny.

There was Dana, the self proclaimed atheist, in his periodic table t-shirt squished in the front seat of his Ford truck next to two nuns in full habit.  On his dashboard was a present we had picked up for him in Canada.  It was a wooden mallet that said "Rocky Mountain Woman Getter."