Tuesday, June 27, 2006

This one time at Gallagosen camp...

We got their around 10pm to a melting pot of employees. New Zealand, Australia, England – I’d later hear South Africa and Armenia among others. Down the hill to the Boat House is where the party was at. The Boat House sat to the right of the lake just past the basketball and volleyball courts. I stepped up on the deck and immediately saw Seth and we exchanged hugs. Next up was Bones’ good friend Angie and a girl I’ve never seen before who started rubbing my head right away. She’d eventually say, “I have a thing for shaved heads. My husband has one.” Well that went from comfortable to uncomfortable pretty fast.

I finally made my way to the doors and what a scene I walked into. Where to begin? In my mind I’d just walked into the next scene of a movie - a scene where the main character is outside of a club and it’s relatively quiet except for the mumblings of the crowd waiting in line and the occasional sounds dripping out of the door when someone leaves. The next scene cuts to the character walking into the club and…

the music was blasting, the disco ball was shining in my eyes and pockets of conversations were everywhere. The cathedral ceiling looked endless. It added to the echoing sounds of madness multiplying with every step I took. The DJ was in a booth above the bar directly to my right. A door was suspended in the air only accessible by the camouflaged ladder nailed to the wall on the side of it. I’d see Kevin becoming very comfortable going up and down this ladder in various states of drunkenness.

Roommate was the first person I ran into. After some quick hellos he asked me if I wanted to play some beer pong. I had arrived. Not 10 minutes into the night and I was already setting up a pyramid on the beer pong table with Sproose excited about getting drunk. “You need to catch up” I’d hear as the hellos kept flowing. Kevin, Tink, Ableson, Shuman, Jimmy, KTB, Wilcox, Gil, Tina and we were getting beat pretty badly by Roommie and Bones. Karen, Missy, MarkyMark, Amy, Andy and we made a great come back down only 3 cups to 1. Lani, Julia, Kristina, Craemer and we’d lost but the race was on.

The rest of the night was filled with roars of laughter only a pride could relate to. Who knew twenty four hours later the Boat House floor would be covered in ping pong balls?

Saturday was activity day from water skiing to wall climbing to bungee trampoline-ing. We played ball, we raced, and I almost threw up in the lake. Go White Homies! Can the guy who was our kayak leg of the race and decided it was okay to quit please report to the office? You have a gallon of pudding to eat and must spend a week on the Celebrity Fit Club where you’ll be forced to room with Ant, the show’s overzealous host.

The day was perfect. The food, to my surprise, was fantastic. The reception was Lot Jam worthy. I could go on for pages about the weekend but the one thing that stood out for me was that Bones and Lani were having a blast. Simple right? Maybe, but it was obvious how much effort went into putting this weekend together. There were so many more details to plan than a typical wedding where people rent a hotel room and show up at the reception. They could’ve folded but instead they were chasing Big Foot around until 4am.

Often times you’ll leave with a gift from a wedding. Some folks have chocolates or picture frames. Others want you to take the flowers and vase. While there were plenty of parting gifts from Camp Gallagosen, the gift they gave me was an experience. An experience combined with the love and kindness that brought us all together in the first place. Bones and Lani managed to make their wedding about everyone else instead of themselves. It’s a special quality for a great couple. Congratulations Gallagosens and thanks for letting me share in your awesome day!

Friday, June 16, 2006

Be good this weekend! Sebastian is watching you!!!

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

The Current Take Me Too

The airmattress was deflated when I woke up. There was some punkass kid walking around with a fucking bell ringing it and telling everyone it was time to wake up. He walked by every single person's tent, I'm sure, and he loved every minute of it. I opened my eyes to the sound of the bell and I could tell that the sun wasn't even up yet. 6am the board had said and it was no joke.

"Wake uuup! ~ringring ringring~ Get your stuff together and get it in the trucks. Clean up your site and get ready for breakfast. Waaaake uppp! ~ringring ringring~ Hey you guys wake up you were looouud last night."

He was talking to us. Just for that comment I rolled back over till he came around again. No one else in the camp had moved, either. Finally I roused and so did James and we set about cleaning up the shitpile we had created around the campchairs the night before. The sun sets and people get drunk and everything goes to pot. But the beautiful thing is we just sort it out and clean it all up and together it takes moments at best.

Coffee was on where they had served us food and played horrible dance music the night before. It had been a combination of new hip-hop and oldies rock and roll. Steve Miller and shit. Joan Jett. On the picnic tables they had water brewing, instant coffee and hot chocolate. It was still chilly so the warm liquids felt good.

I chuckled to myself when I thought of the controvery the night before and how it had all come to a head with the lameass guitar solo by that dickhead who stole our inflatable guitar. We had this pink inflatable guitar that had made it through a few parties, including my recent bachelor party. It was an obvious choice to bring on the river, the only problem was, of course, the rapids. It moved from raft to raft for a while, but then it was lost to the river. We figured someone coming up behind us would find it and back at camp whoever it was would battle us in a good-spirited air guitar battle for possession of the toy. But unfortunately, the people that found it were a bunch of shitheads. People in our group tried talking to them about it, making it fun, but they would have none of it. It was finders keepers to them and that was that. At one point during the danceparty later on that evening, one of the kids got up on a table and played along to a Joan Jett song. It was pathetic and boring. The Gil would have crushed him had he been around. No matter, I thought as I assembled my breakfast burrito (they cooked eggs, potatoes, had guac and salsa, some tabasco, sour cream and quesa-dillas we could toast on the grill).

But, what I had to focus on was not getting hurt on the river that day. People had been banged up the day before! I couldn't head into my wedding with bruises or breaks or anything like that. Paddle through, paddle through.

We broke camp, loaded our stuff up into the moving trucks and waited in bunches at the doors of the eight blue and white school buses. The sun was just coming up, but it rose into low clouds or high fog. We boarded the buses and had a 40 minute ride ahead of us. We had no idea what we were in for.

The bus went through the river and over the hills until we found the mountain. Then it started going up. I was in the back seat. That morning I had consumed some OJ, some Bloody M., some eggs and sour cream, and definitely 2 cups of coffee. I was in the back seat. And up we went. A dirtroad switch back up the mountain and I know the guy at the wheel had something to prove. He never looked at the rearview mirror and he never got us more than three feet from the steep edge, but he never tried to take it easy, either. Up and up we went, around hairpins, then another, then up again some more until the road we had come up was a ribbon of brown in the greenery below. And the river we had ridden was but a sliver of blue at the bottom of steep, steep slopes. And up we went, fishtailing around the corners as we shouted and laughed in the back like a bagful of monkeys. The Big L. showed up and demanded his Johnson back. Donnie was told, repeatedly, that he was out of his fucking element. I gripped the window as though that was safe, and together Jen and I plotted at how we would take out the guitar pirates we knew would be on the river that day. And still, we went up. Then finally we hit a peak, but it wasn't over yet. Oh no. There was still a razortopped ridge to cross that we traversed at top speed while all around in every direction mountains cut sharply into the endless, gray expanse. The sun was hidden and the entire sky was suffused with light.

Finally we made it to the dropoff point. Warnings, instructions and pointers were handed out as we found our rafts and hit the river. These were slightly smaller than the ones the day before, and no where near as nice. Ours, in fact, sucked, but Heather and I forged on. I complained about the fact that the self bailing wasn't working and that the back rest was fucked up, but I really really tried not to. It wasn't as much fun having a raft that kinda sucked. But eventually I sucked it up. Having the sun come out halfway down was a huge help. When everyone had gathered for lunch on one of the shores there had been a lot of chilly people.

All weekend Heather and I had managed to stay upright and afloat. But on that second day we became the Soggy Bottom Rattlers. Soggy bottom 'cause that's what the boat was giving me, and Rattlers because just as Heather was setting up her tent, the night before, a guy found a baby rattlesnake right near her stuff. A capsize was inevitable.

We were taking it more easy on this second day. And the river itself was not nearly as treacherous. We created some large floatillas by all holding on together and floating blissfully along, but during the rapid parts things didn't go as well. The first time, the raft on the outside was crushed into the brush. The next time we almost didn't get past some people hung up in the middle on a large rock. The third rapid, though, was the charm. Four rafts together all in a floatilla, but then we broke away as the rapids approached. Not soon enough, though. It's much better to be all by yourself in the rapids because with others around, they get you all tied up. And that's exactly what happened. The water pushed us together, and then heaved us at the turn where some other people in a three-man raft were already pinned against the bank. We clogged up, but the water didn't stop. 3 of our rafts filled up fast and then dumped us over. I felt myself get consumed between the raft I was in and the one next to me and then I was under water. I didn't let go of my paddle, though. Chaos reigned. The water was moving fast but I remembered what I was supposed to do. Get facing downstream and put my feet up in front of me so my toes were above the water. I could see the tips of my brand new lime green Crocs, and I was thankful that they floated. Heather was next to me as we rushed downstream and she called "Toes up toes up!" and I shouted in agreement back to her. It had been seconds only since we were plunged below.

I turned around to the strangest sight I saw on the river all weekend. Our friend Ryan was in a canoe all by himself. Marty and Sue were floating along unscathed. Gil and Jen were working hard to get back in their raft. But Marina, somehow, had ended up on top of my and Heather's upside down raft. It was hilarious to see the boat upside down and her perched on top of it. She had never even hit the water. When everything spun in and dumped us, it had popped her right on top of the raft we had just been in.

It was fun floating through some rapids. Heather pulled to the side and was picked up by friends. Ryan scooped me up and we gathered detrius before pulling over to the side. Marina managed to get our raft right side up, and then jumped back into it so she could steer it over to the side. On the bank together we relived the awesome dumpage and then soon got on our way again.

We went faster than we intended and got back long before we expected. But it was time. We were beat. There were pictures of each of us in The Mother and although Heather and I agreed we both looked great, $20 for the pix just seemed a little steep to us. The memory was enough.

I couldn't lift my arms when I got back to the apartment, and it took only moments on the couch before I was fast alseep. When I dreamed, I felt the river pulling me along, and I couldn't tell if it was water or time, but I knew I had to paddle hard and paddle through, but also I had to remember to let the current take me, too.

Monday, June 12, 2006

Paddle Through!

The river was angry that day, like an old man returning soup in a diner. Well not really, just one part. And it was angry like a Mother with bad kids and she beat the hell out of some of us. But that's for later. First we have to get there.

Up and out at 7:15am on Saturday morning, then on to the next stop to pick up 2 more. There almost wasn't enough room for all of us and gear in the Jetta, but we made it work. The ride up was quicker than we thought, so we were there nice and early and had plenty of time to get ready. Others in our group took longer to arrive, but we still all made the second round of buses to get to the dropoff point. We only took the stuff we needed for the river with us, while they company running the show packed our gear into moving trucks to have it waiting for us when we reached the endpoint of the rafting for the first day.

The rafts were canoe-style, but made out of tough, inflated rubber. And instead of sitting on seats, you sat on the bottom of the boat with your back against what looked like the seat. After instruction and orientation we strapped on our lifevests, grabbed hold of our paddles and hit the river. It was only moments before the first of our group capsized. The rapids were fun but rough. They tossed you around and made you sit up and take notice. But the key was to just paddle hard through the rapids and not let the water take you wherever it wanted. Cause if you let it do that, it would take you out in no time. My friend Heather and I worked hard through the rough parts cheering each other on and pushing hard against the water. Another key to not-capsizing was being smart about your weight. You had to shift and move as the water pushed and tugged, and getting your butt up in the air a little bit was key to preventing the ole rock-up-the-ass.

There was about 20 of us in our group, but the company took well over 100 people down the river. Could have even been 200 or more. Out on the river we stopped a lot to shotgun beers and chill and the day was hot and sunny. The water felt great even though it was rather chilly. Each of the rapids were a new challenge and it was exhilirating to race through those churning waters. It was near the end of the day that we truly tested.

The Mother was waiting for us. It's the Mother because it's a F*cker, and escaping unscathed from that portion of the trip is no easy feat. As we got close there were guides on rocks and to the sides telling us where to go. First to the left, then to the right, then right down the middle they directed us, but following their instructions was anything but easy. We shot into the frothing mix and right away a huge wave crashed into us from the side. Water filled the raft, but it was draining out just as quickly through the self-bailing bottom. It had, however, sent both Heather and I into contorted positions as we tried to compensate. Both legs, and my right asscheek was out of the boat as the water came pouring in, and I could see that Heather was in trouble, too. In my right hand I had my paddle and my left scrabbled for purchase on the slippery rubber. I was going in, I could feel it and I did not want that to happen. I dug deep, I let out a guttural moan of determination and I forced myself to lay back and roll in and to keep on going. We needed to get out of there immediately so with my paddle in my right hand I swung it towards my left hand, hard so I could get a solid grasp on it and shove us down the current fast and hard. But I missed. Instead of catching the top handle of the paddle with my left hand, I smacked myself soundly on the forehead. I really could not have hit myself any harder if I had tried. And in the middle of these rapids I could not help but think, "great, that's all I needed, a smack in the head." I nearly saw stars. But I kept focus and so did Heather and with a shout of glee and relief we blasted through the Mother and came out still afloat and mostly uninjured on the other side.

That whole Mother-effing part took all of ten seconds, but it set my heart racing, and with good reason. As we got out of the rapids, there was a man groaning in the river as he tried to swim, so we rowed over to him and helped him to the shore. Later on we found out that that guy had shattered his kneecap. We knew that because another in our group capsized in The Mother and he was raked across some rocks. It put a huge gash in his shin which required 22 stitches. While at the hospital he saw the guy we'd helped off the river who now had a summer ruined by the cast that was going to be applied to his leg and knee. Many others in our group dumped at that point, but luckily no one else got hurt.

Eventually we reached the pullout point and it was a relief to finally put the paddles down. My arms were sore! Our gear was spread out on the grass for us, so we found everything and then set up camp. They served us margaritas and snacks around 5pm, and then dinner was at 7:30pm. Steak, chicken or a veggie puck, with delicious corn and a 1lb baked potato on the side filled me up right. We all hung out long after quiet hours and of course had to be asked a few times to make it softer, softer and softer still till I was the only one out there nodding off in the chair before finally draggin my ass up and heading off to bed. Sleep was deep, but short, because we were up at 6am the next day for another ride on the river.

I had no idea, though, of the busride we would have to take the next day to reach the drop-in point. That was an adventure in and of itself, and I'll tell you all about it tomorrow. Just let me say this, it was a ride that sad tales of tragic accidents are made of. I'm convinced Otto was up there at the wheel.