Monday, June 27, 2005 CAMP 2005

This weekend I went camping out in the mountains of Cuyamaca Lake.  I hung out with alcoholic heathens for a good twenty-seven, or so, hours.  It was fantastic.  I haven’t camped since I was 12 or something.  Getting there was interesting.  The forests were dark and ridged, and the hills were covered with blackened burnt trees, destined for the coupe de grace that only a chainsaw could give them. This scene was back dropped by an array of 80s music.  As soon as we reached the campgrounds, after a couple of u-ies, we waited for The Ranger to recover our lost reservations.  That took a good two hours or so, during which some of us purchased fishing licenses, gas, and told stories about eating dogs and animals with bones, while smoking next to a gas pump less 2 feet from the nearest door.  Such rebels that we were. Pitching the tent was an adventure in and of itself!  My friend brought his tent from home that we soon found was broken and missing stakes!  We had put that thing together rather quickly.  But to our dismay, the wind was blowing at 200mph and keeping the tent from not looking like a summer squash was impossible.  I was laughing the entire time.  My friend, on the other hand, was pissed and was a few wind gusts away from destroying the massive kite-umbrella of shelter.  We were lucky that eventually another friend was gracious enough to loan a few stakes, or it would have been car-camping for us two. The daytime was filled with fishing, roaming, shaking of piers, walking, dueling, bird-feeding, football, and oh- let’s not forget the drinking. Ha! Several fish were introduced to the garbage can that day.  My stomach filled with homemade sandwich wraps, Tat salad, chips and booze, I took my own stroll around the lake’s perimeters.  Everyone else was too lazy and uninterested with such “outdoors ness.”  But I was destined to ride a boat…and I went a ‘searching for the ones who were to give me that free ride.  I found them with the convenient room for one more in their kayak.  They’re names were Megan and Terry. Grabbing me from the tip of a lake peninsula, they taught me all about Turkey Vultures.  I was in awe. The evening brought the group to a massive gather; first at the grill, where the wieners and burgers roasted, and then at the solo picnic table that we claimed. We were all pretty much drunk and happy/angry by then; some morphing into funny drunken assholes, and others, into complete morons with death-wishes.  People were pouring wax on their nipples, eating vodka pickles, and playing all kinds of footsies. We were loud, potty-mouthed, and rambunctious enough for The Ranger to make an appearance; her little buggy- a covered wagon of threats.  It all began when I saw an obnoxious light in the distance, shining at me.  So in return I shined a moonbeam right back with my large flashlight.  “You’re shining a light at a ranger!” she boomed.  This sent a few to hiding; my friend being one. I searched for him after things were temporarily settled with The Ranger.  He had fallen asleep in the curl of his own theatrical trickery, upon one side over his pocket, meant to fake out any predators into reaching for his wallet and finding a drunk underage-er breaking the law. LOL.  The temperature had fallen several degrees bringing an icy chronic chilling to my bones.  I decided that I wouldn’t be able to enjoy myself any longer.  Several people had already hit their tents by that time, anyway.  I decided to join the party.  That, or get hypothermia. A freezing cold hand awoke me for a furthered couple hours of more fun and booze (and special romancing, whoo!). It eventually turned into a telephone sort of game, amongst all the guys; yelling obscenities at each other from tent to tent.  (Things like, “GARBAGE DAY!” “PUNISH!” and “NAUGHTY THIS!”-From a movie we saw before we left the city- “Silent Night, Deadly Night 2” See it. Feel it. Get it. (the jokes)) In the morning, an annoying screeching bird got a blow of “PUNISH!” Oh, my belly, how it jiggles to the recall of these memories. The next day was packing and leaving time.  The waters were brown, but ever flowing, the sun beat down with a vengeance over the dead grass and gopher mounds that surrounded us, ducks shooting out pheromones from their "galores" and gangbanging every thirty minutes upon the lake.  Our bellies were full of pills, breakfast beer, Tat salad, as we filled our lungs with damp cigarette residue (which we tried to salvage from a puddle).  The grill smelled of shit and urine, and yet fed the tummies of a couple more people. ...Thus, marked the end of Camp 2005- and the The Ranger who contaminated our food grill with her droppings.  The end.