Because you never know.

I heard this phrase today and it made me recall a time when it never proved more true.

It was the summer of ’84, and my dad was packing up the car in the pre dawn hours for what would be about a three week trip out west through the Bad Lands, Mount Rushmore, Wyoming and Montana National Parks.

The last item to go into the trunk was an ax. Yep. An ax.

Dad – we’re not planning on building our own shelters, are we? I mean, we’re staying in hotels, right? Because my Walkman shouldn’t get wet.

Right.

And you’re not planning on killing and skinning a raccoon are ya? I’m sure there are plenty of places out there where we can buy ourselves an authentic-esque Davy Crockett coonskin cap, right?

Right.

And you’re not planning on taking us out into the deep woods and hacking us into little pieces, right. (Actually, I really didn’t say that one.)

So then what’s up with the ax?

Because you never know when you might need one.

Ahhh-huh. With that, I rolled my eyes like a punk teen would, climbed in the backseat and slapped in Pink Floyd’s The Wall cassette.

Cut to about two weeks later up in the mountain roads of Glacier National Park and a long line of braked cars. What could it be?

Well low and behold, a storm had just passed through these yonder parts and a tree done fell across the road.

And who came to the rescue of these tourists in distress? My Paul Bunyan Dad and his ax. He chopped away, moved the tree, and traffic proceeded to flow like the melting snow atop the surrounding Rocky Mountains.

You never know indeed.