A Pretty Cool Grandma

     A few posts ago, Grandpa mentioned Grandma. He said, “Once upon a time, there was a Grandma. She was not a round, soft Grandma like some grandmas. She was more of a lean muscle kind of Grandma. But she did lots of Grandma things like making cookies, reading stories and snuggling little people. She also did other Grandma things like camping and hiking and hunting and shooting the eye out of a gnat at 300 yards with a .243.” 
     I’d like to elaborate a little bit. I have a pretty cool grandma. She has two sides, and both are really cool. One side is the snuggly Grandma that was my very first babysitter. This side makes shortbread cookies, owns a big, snuggly cat, and drinks copious amounts of Mayan hot chocolate. That’s a really nice side to be around.     

     But there’s another side as well. Over the years, I’ve grown to recognize this part – and stand back a little from it. This is the “predator” side of her. When she gets into this mode, nothing will stop her. This is the side that can hike all day long at 10,000 feet

elevation, pausing only to drink a little water from her hydration

pack and maybe eat some trail mix. This is the grandma that has cut her own Christmas tree in the mountains for the last 42 years. This is the side that mommy antelope use to scare their fawns into obedience – “Run like the wind, children, or the Devil Woman will get you!” This is the dear, sweet grandma with the camo Buff, the dangerous “eye of the tiger” look and the frighteningly accurate .243. This is the grandma that will put a quarter of an elk on her back and head off down the mountain with it. This is my No Fear Grandma. 

Let me offer an example: Last year, after a massive snowstorm, some grandkids were over and we decided to go sledding at a choice hill. A foot of perfect snow made for a great afternoon. The part I remember most was, after heading down the hill, I was slowly trudging back up to the top. A wild, ferocious, feral screech made me look up. Here comes this ball of scarves flying along at like Mach 3 on a little pink sled. The ball of scarves hit a particularly good jump, flew somewhere into the stratosphere, and (still screeching) plummeted back to Earth. I was so proud of my grandma. Afterwards, we went home and made cookies and snuggled with the cat.

-The Ranger