Level 3

Good morning Lovers.  I’m coming to you from the middle of the Adriatic Sea for this post, but don’t get ahead of yourselves, this is not a post about Yacht Week.  Stay tuned for that update.  Before we launch into being free on the sea, I must tell you about the Level 3 fun that was our trip to Plitvice Lakes National Park.

At our orientation, we were told about the three levels of fun.  Level 1 – this is the fun you expect to have. Fun that’s a given, no doubts that good times will be had.

Level 2 – this is the fun that is unexpected.  It’s Random (like me).

Level 3 – this is when everything goes to shit.  Call it Murphy’s Law fun, when everything that can go wrong does go wrong.  This is where the stories are born.  The stories you will tell of the rest of your life.  Plitvice was all three levels.

I was sitting at WIP busting out some client work when I get a text from ET and Rems.  Load up, pack light, we’re riding up to Plitvice on scooters.  Its a 3-3.5 hour ride, and we are rolling out at 3:00. I hustle through the rest of what I have to get done and throw some stuff in a bag. Level 2 meets Level 1.

As we’re about to hit the road, our city team leader strolls by and asks what we’re up to.  I admit, we’re not utilizing our city team nearly enough, but organized chaos is my game, and I believe everything is an adventure…. He looks rather surprised when we lay out the plan, but gives us a mountain route and tells us to take long sleeves.  Off we go.


The ride is amazingly beautiful.  Twisting mountain roads through breathtaking landscapes, Random cows on the side of the road… we even found a sheep farm and Rems tried to chase one down for the Insta. #doitforthegram.


Google Maps is guiding us on our route, and we take a couple detours, but it seems like we are always 2 hours away.  It starts to get dark.  And it gets cold.  I grabbed the long sleeves Mate suggested, but I’m still on my quest to live in Lululemon shorts this whole trip, so my legs are pretty much numb.  At this point I’m thinking that all the Auburn football games I froze my ass off at have prepared me for this ride.  Rems leans back and says “At least its not raining”.  Cue Level 3.

It is dark.  It is cold.  And now its raining.  We are on scooters on mountain roads getting passed by semis.  And somehow we are still 2 hours away.  About 8 hours in and 20 miles from our destination, we hit a small town and decide to throw in the towel.  There’s a 24 hour truck stop diner where we stop, eat some hot food, defrost with some Jager shots, and hire the waitress’s husband to drive us the rest of the way. Level 3.

Tired AF, we roll up to the “5 Star room” that ET has booked us and it is one room in some lady’s house with two single beds and a double.  Duffs and I grab the double, and its not long after the four of us get settled we’re scolded by the innkeeper for laughing too loudly about our adventure and accommodations. Level 3.


Plitvice is well worth all we went through to get to it.  Waterfall after waterfall, each more breathtaking than the last, and the clearest blue/green water I’ve ever seen in my life.  ET and I explore a cave and I effectively face my fear of small, dark, enclosed spaces – thankfully, no bats.  The four of us hike up to a point with a sign that I can only imagine says “Don’t climb out here”, so we climb out and get the pics that will make the ‘Gram. Level 1.  And some Level 2 as well.


We made a group decision that there was no topping the scooter ride up, so ET arranges transport for us and our scooters back to Split.  When the VAN rolls up, its back to Level 3 as we remove the second and third row seating, get the scooters shoved in, squeeze one bench in and strap the other to the roof. Quick ‘Gram vid and we are Split bound.


On the ride back, we bond over upbringing and overcoming.  It still takes me to another place thinking of how we all came from different places and ended up here, together.  Everyone that heard I was going on this trip said that I would make relationships that would last a lifetime, and I had no doubts about that, but being in the moments when they are being forged is truly something else.

When we get back to Split, its Level 3 again as we unload and attempt to put this guys van back together.  RY12 comes to the rescue, and Rems and I head back to our spot, killing the rest of the vodka on the way while reeling in the sick adventure that we can now add to our stories (personal and Insta).

I know you’re anxiously awaiting Yacht Week posts, but just hang in there a just little bit longer my Lovers.  Boat adventures are plentiful, and headed your way soon.

Forever yours,



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