John had a great Jeep Wrangler, which we (meaning him, he wouldn't let me drive) took all over the place, you can't believe what these things can do. It was after this drive that I fell in love with the Wrangler, and was determined to someday own one. One with no doors and no top, Minnesota weather be damned.
Here's John, staring down at the other little Jeeps below.
Since he was way more interested in seeing how many boulders he could drive over, I didn't get many pictures of me. Here's an unfortunate one:
Hold on, what am I wearing?
It was the early 90's, apparently I thought grunge meant looking as much like a boy as possible. By the time I finally owned a Wrangler, I would be way more girly.
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Or would I? That's me, on the right, a couple of years later with my very own Jeep.
At least my hair is longer.
