Highway to the Danger Zone!

If I never hear that song again, it would still be too soon. Camping trip ’06 with a side of white water rafting with 88 of my closest friends. Freaking amazing!

Immediately upon arrival and before the bags were out of the car, the beers were cracked. Traded some beers with our tent-neighbors to the right in exchange of them assembling our tent while we sat in our camping chairs and drank. Introductions were made with out-of-staters. I made a cornhole partner (we were second place in the tournament). Received my first set of bruises from a game of fuck-this-isn’t-sand-it’s-gravel volleyball. Drank some more. Put down a couple razz bombs with my cornhole partner and friends before heading to the local townie bar to play fooseball, pool, and game of let’s-flash-the-bartender-for-a-free-shot. It’s West Virginia — fit in with the locals, right? Talked my bar patrons into streaking the other campsites. I tripped in a five-foot trench on my way across the field. Only me. It was classic with the retaliation from the spectators a few hours later. Somebody let me stay up too late drinking and eating S’mores… and somebody else “forgot” to turn off the Top Gun soundtrack. (I hope your CD survived the inferno of the Jenga campfire).

Decided it was still early enough (2am? Who fucking knows what time it is when you’re camping! That’s why the cell phones don’t work, right?) to play a game of Asshole with new rules. Eyeing which guy would be our campfire mate and kill all the really, really, REALLY big spiders for the remainder of the weekend.
This trip had too many nights staying up late and too many mornings where you can’t sleep in because all the sudden your tent has become the sauna at the Y and there’s this giant light called “sun” flooding through the walls… and it’s only 5am.

I’m sure it was a smart idea to stay awake until past 3am when you have to do 6 hours of white water rafting at 8. Yeah. I was tired at first — until I hit the water. Our boat was intentionally flipped once by our guide (where I hit the water so hard I even lost a shoe), but I clenched my ass down onto the boat and didn’t spring into the water again… well, I landed in the guide’s lap once. Class 5 river with mostly 4 and 5 rapids. I thought I’d be more nervous, but I was so adrenaline-pumped I never got scared. Now, if I got caught under the boat, I’m sure that would’ve been a different story. Lori got caught in one of the “toilet bowls.” During a swim-rapid, it’s like, Hey, Lori, watch out for that rock… uh, where did she go? And imagine someone’s head spinning around-and-around being sucked under. Hilarious. Double Awesome: being able to jump off the cliff into the river. Damn, I think my ass has been constantly Vultan-Clenched for 57 hours straight. You can also check out some of the professional Songer’s pictures here. Scroll through our peel-out on Surprise, pics #23-31.

Felt like summer camp during the BBQ Saturday night… although with a lot of alcohol. There was the creation of the Jenga campfire. Gratui-tents Tent Sex pictures were taken… but only because it’s cold outside and we all know that body heat is best to stay warm! Wanted a shot from my favorite (read: only) local bar and got there just in time to watch UFC main event. (Shamrock, way to go with those 8000 elbows to your face).

Sunday cleaned up. Got breakfast at some Paul Bunyan Waffle/Pancake house.

Barring any unnecessary car problems, we’re on our way home… right. It’s godamn hard to get moving in the morning without any coffee.
Oh yeah, weekend wouldn’t be complete without a text and a voicemail from good ol’ ex-man SSD. Thanks. And please help me understand exactly what it is you’re trying to say.

I’m fucking tired. I met some of the coolest people… and of course, they’ve already all owned me as friends in myspace world. We decided to pick a different city to have the group all meet in at random times. Ahhh, I miss everybody already. It IS like summer camp… only with email.

Time for detox.

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