April 6 2004
Ahh the glory days. Throw the bags in the back of the Corona. Load up all of Dave’s guns. Stop by Chucks to make sure we are gunna eat well (Cherry Coke Burgers, Welch’s, Dogs, always a box of Day-olds, and of course a big bag of licorice). For some reason, we always seemed to take several cars and leave several hours apart. Don’t know why. Stop by Wally-world to stock up on ammo. Hit the dirt roads looking for things to run over. Race down the pony express trail at 70+ mph (even if there is no one to race). Maybe stop to chase the sheep, yell Istanbul, or watch the kangaroo rats jump over bullets with their lightning fast reflexes. (No really. They do jump the bullets if you try to shoot them.) Arrive at camp and unload the machetes or cutting tool de jour. Pile up as much wood as daylight will allow. (or moonlight or flashlight). ok, pile up as much wood as inhumanly possible. Light it and stand back. Sit on THE Table and enjoy the view. Yeah, that table sure did hold a lot of memories. So when Mike and I found that it had been desecrated by some Keystone drinking bastards last week, there seemed only one dignified path for the table to take. It has now been sanctified by fire.
