BIG BEND!! 2/11/19
This area is spectacular!

The campground is not! No water & electric for $14/night. Flush toilet but no shower. The weather was still chilly and overcast 2/10 when we arrived at 10am. After one of the camp host got us lined out, a 50-60 something gal who was a looker a bit ago and still fancied herself to be one… we beached the Pad just behind the bathrooms……..not the best view.
◦ Ranger Rick the other camp host came over and explained the reservation rules to us and I noticed he was dressed in kakis……….the whole Ranger look…..his wife was dressed the same way so perhaps at the National Parks this is a requirement. Nonetheless Rick was very serious about his responsibilities!
◦ After setting up camp I relaxed in the zero chair which sat atop the rug which I placed on the blacktop…….3.2 feet from the road where frantic campers dragged everything from 42’ toy haulers to cab over-campers that were new when Pet Rocks were a thing..Several times I was in fear for my life as extended side view mirrors glided above my head at what felt like inches. I cracked a Dos Equis which was camouflaged in my yeti “Special K” beer kozi that my best fishing buddy Pat D. got me.

◦ Texas state parks are literally Plastered!! With “ the pubic consumption of alcohol is strictly forbidden “ or some variation of that…..”Under penalty of DEATH by public flogging “ or something…….they ain’t messing around.This is a national park so maybe the manner of punishment is more benign here…..like maybe they make you be a camp host for a month.

◦ I entertained my self watching Ranger Rick Dremel tool a panel out of ……Linda the “looker”’s Winnebago. It was entertaining for about 30 seconds until the Dremel tool sound ……which was as loud as the 4am airboats at Goose Island …….but lucky for me the pitch is closer to the ear piercing wail of a newborn baby on a 4 hour flight….or anything sung by Yoko Ono and the plastic Ono Band!
◦ Rick worked away as Linda the Looker …….looked on…………it was more than that …..she fluttered…like a moth……if I were a nice person I’d say like a butterfly….but I’m not……and she wasn’t fluttering like a butterfly. A moth is more irritating…….Linda gushed at Ranger Rick in tones of praise….”Oh that looks great,oh my Rick what a good job you are doing” Rick was eating it up as he hacked away with the underpowered device at what I’m sure was no more than particle board. The cut line looked like a victim of Parkinson’s had made it…but .what the hell…Rick was a man possessed…..possessed by pride…isn’t that one of the 7 sins??

◦ Pride that Linda was perched at his shoulder showering him with gratitude and complements ……..something we men crave and apparently a skill that Linda mastered by the 5th grade……mastered and understood that it was a means to almost any end. By this time I could see Ricks wife , glaring a hole in the scene of star struck Rick and the Master Manipulator engaging in full on flirting at this point. Just then RR nicked a water line with the more than powerful enough Dremel……a miniature geyser arched over the picnic table as I swear I could see RR’s wife’s body language change from a simmering rage to outright glee.
◦ Linda the Looker scampered into the trailer and shrieked at what I assume was a mounting disaster…….”a mop, get a mop!! Quick” Ranger Rick jogged over to his camp asking the wife in a near yell ,”the mop,where’s the mop? “The wife, pretending not to notice the mop leaning against the bumper…”l not sure sweetheart “ I suspect this was code for “ go ask your slutty new friend over there “
The curtain had fallen for Ranger Rick,as LInda the Looker’s posture changed as well….the slope of her shoulders was more “ thanks for nothing loser”…Ranger Rick ,reading the new atmosphere….gathered his tools and slinked the 50 yards to his trailer and wife…a wife who announced “ you must be starved honey, I made you a sandwich,and I put mustard on both slices of bread just like you like”. This is code for “ you’re mine and I love you even if you are a moron “
◦
That evening we watched the movie Hitch….it was funny……but it ran into the 8pm generator curfew!!!! RR and his dutiful wife banged on the 5er door at 8:000000003 pm with what sounded like the thing the SWAT teams knock doors down with…….I hate generators too…..and RR was just doing his job …..but I’m a little growly on the subject because I’m paying $14 a night to freeze my ass off………Winter Texan my butt…..fortunately I was able to buy propane for $ 4.25 a gallon this morning!! Score!! The propane dude must be related to Minut Man 10 minute oil change in Rockport……did I tell you about……..multiple times,I’m sure

We went on a drive about with Shannon and Larry today and had a blast sitting at a spot called Verizon Hill for 2 hours trying to get State Park reservations,when the reservation system wasn’t locking up,it was telling us our phone number was not our phone number,fortunately it eventually accepted the phone number only to tell us our email was incorrect ,only to tell us that we were not really Kelly & Karen McCail ,a little later we searched for Larry’s phone in the cactus and yuccas AND rain after it was tossed an impressive distance out the Jeep window………..we called the reservation line as prompted by the online system……only to get the recording “ we are experiencing unusually heavy system usage,wait times………. will be between 6 hours and 32 minutes and 9 hours and 14 minutes” I make A LOT OF SHIT UP but even I couldn’t make this up……the gravy was they told us to try the web site for faster service….the site that told us they were so fouled up we should call………experiences like this make me wonder why we are not speaking Russian or Chinese……Shannon and I sat in the truck swilling beer like any good Wyoming hand would …and tried to stay out of Karen and Larry’s way….they were doing all the work…they were getting all the aggravation……we needed them focused on that….not on us……us …doing…. pretty much nothing . Finally Larry and Karen exited the Jeep and said “let’s go”…….I didn’t care where….and I wasn’t gonna ask….also didn’t ask where we were staying the next 3 days…..I, was afraid they didn’t know either…..and I knew enough to not stir that up. We had a grand time driving on dusty dirt roads behind hayseeds from Ohio who thought 3.5 mph was the standard operating procedure (SOP) for dirt
roads…..I’ve been out of my element before….but come on dude….3 and a half mph??
We went to the Hot Springs pull out and down the bumpy road to a parking area stating the spring was .25 of a mile…………heck….even I can walk that……..I find that I can do a lot of things………..what holds me back is I’m lazy and don’t wanna…..mostly I’m lazy

We were also lucky enough to come across a ump-pa-lump-pa Park Ranger who decided to get his short man…”I coulda been a cop” complex on with Larry …..I wrongfully so was standing 7.4 inches off the road taking a picture of a flower…when he appeared in the road……..Pearl the dog forgot her leash and was causing a real event by sitting calmly by the Jeep tire, Larry was searching for more beer’ump-pa finished his tongue lashing with
“Is that a problem”?
I think Dads are the only people who should be allowed to utter that phrase. Larry calmly said “no” and gave no hint to ump- pa how close he’d came to finding out what’s on the “other side” Larry found out later from a volunteer,that Manuel was well known as a peckerhead,and not particularly revered ……by anyone.
Once back in camp I was greeted by a second empty propane tank! Yeehaw! More propane at a cost that will require an unplanned 401K withdrawal!!
Score!briquette rationing was required after the propane purchase

..

..

All in all a good day finished off with steak and chicken on the grill and a game of Farkle …….which was easily won by the New World Champion Of Farkle
Karen!

The campground is tight and basically a holding ground for your camper while you are out experiencing nature….away from camp. This is odd for a Wyoming boy as we normally camp right in the middle of where we wanna be, for someone from Chicago this setup would seem or be normal……like going to the zoo…..you park your car and you walk somewhere to see stuff you wouldn’t normally see. Also…..maybe it’s a Wyoming thing…or maybe it’s me….I like camping where there are guns involved and dogs running free and no rules other than those suggested by the more mature of the group ……normally the wives……..and……well…..quite frankly……a lotta drinking….
Some camp days you might decide you’re gonna have a Bloody after breakfast then drink beer and plink 22’s out of lawn chairs till happy hour……I didn’t think that was reckless, childish , irresponsible,…….immature behavior before experiencing this kind of camping …..and I still don’t,……One kinda camping is yucking it up over games of “hammerslaugiun” and horse shoes and “shoot the crap outta the beer cans with the mini 14” and the other is sterile campgrounds, run by hosts who’ve been indoctrinated into some sort of “l’m FINALLY the boss of something….”club ……but also has magnificent views and history information even if a lot of it feels like you are kept behind the “velvet ropes” with all the rules. It’s just different camping in a NP and you just need to have your mind right for how it is….I will say that Big Bend National Park has been SPOTLESS…….haven’t seen one .223 riddled beer can the whole trip. I will admit that the N.P.’s would look like a vacant lot in the run down section of any major city…….minus the used needles of course……….if not for all the rules. Not so funny………… how we need to protect ourselves from ourselves ,before we wreck forever even more of what is beautiful.

It’s also been fun to chat with other visitors and get the low down on their experiences and adventures!

Visit Big Bend N.P. Bring your walking shoes and sun screen!

It’s a foggy morning and I mean foggy……( these Texans don’t fool around) here at Choke Canyon state park. I road the bike over to the boat launch and the wailing of Sandy Denny’s rendition of Dylan’s Knocking on Heavens Door on the shuffle……for you youngins a shuffle is kinda like a reel to reel …..only portable. Sandy’s singing fit perfectly with the fog and the thick humid air, but Clapton’s Layla provided a better vibe to the ride,even though it’s about stealing your bros girl…..details ….pesky details

I got back to the campground in time to watch a scenario that every couple who are not professional truck drivers have endured…..the “ahh crap we have to back into a spot that is not the size of an abandoned Walmart parking lot”. They started off as the loving couple of 33 years who raised 2.3 kids behind the white picket fence in a white clapboard home……and the backing up was very loving too! For about 27 seconds……I craned my neck with my faced pressed against our side window trying to see what caused the conversation to go from ” looking good honey ” and “crank it a little more to the left sweetheart ” to ” the other LEFT!!!!!! ” to” MY LEFT OR YOUR LEFT ASSHOLE” to ” THE TREE….THE TREE….CANT YOU SEE THE Fing Treeeeee!!! I have watched enough NFL coaches to read lips and he was not saying ” I love you too honey “. ……….I could see the wife step out of the side view mirrors prying eye and behind the trailer and do a MAGNIFICENT DOUBLE BIRD!!

After spitting out my coffee I quickly look to see what Ward Cleaver was up to, he was blocked from view but I’ll bet you $10 it was this:

……

……

……

…….

……..

* photo courtesy of Ron Jeremy

The funny and the good thing is all couples seem to survive this part of RVing that makes you both crazy for at least a few minutes….I guess you could think of it as the RV worlds way of creating………quite time………I know there ain’t a lot of conversation at our camp afterwards .

The trees around here have a mind of their own.

And these are everywhere!!

The comedian Brian Regan does a skit about walking into spider webs……..I’m that guy….I was fishing the boat dock and walked into a huge web…….well……at least one strand….I stumbled around,flailing away, teetered on the edge….almost falling in the lake which would have been far more embarrassing than my little “salsa” move down the dock……the “move”,,,,, ,that was now causing a few snickers from the audience on the opposite bank , an audience that I had not noticed until now……being a doofus is painful at times. Shortly after my little strut down the runway two fellas pulled up to trailer there boat after a morning of fishing…these were the first less than friendly Texans I’d met, they kinda grumbled/ muttered when I asked “how’s it going”…..perhaps they didn’t catch anything or maybe they were jealous of my expertly placed casts….one after another my casts landed……..on the edge of the reeds….right were the lunkers hung out!! As they cranked the boat up the trailer,I walked down the dock to retrieve one of my now “almost famous “casts that was hung up on a reed……my buddy says “if your not getting hung up,you’re not casting where the bass are”……….I looked down, unhooked my topwater plug…..and made a mental note that bass most likely did not hang out in 3/4 of an inch of water………the area I’d been deftly casting into for 20 minutes was 3/4 of an inch deep!! NICE!!! I stole a glance at the boat trailer dudes and felt their distain…..as I gathered up my gear and trekked up the ramp…I felt half a dozen sets of eyes…….”eyeballing” me……was it my arachnophobia induced rumba down the dock? My casting to an area tooooo shallow for water spiders to even hang out?………..At the top of the ramp I turned to regard the lake a final time, it was then I noticed a minor detail I missed in my excitement to wet a line…….the 4 foot by 6 foot sign…..proclaiming….

“ABSOLUTELY NO FISHING FROM THE DOCK “

In an effort to conceal my identity I walked towards the parking lot,abandoning my bike and Wyoming Cowboys sweatshirt which I had purposely “displayed ” across the handle bars……perhaps everyone would think I was with the Winnebago with Maine plates……..I’ll come get the bike…..after dark…..after…I rub mud on my truck license plates

Our traveling companions and Karen as well….wondered why I insisted on a zero dark thirty departure to a Garner State Park……”you know….traffic can be tough…..and ..ya know…we wanna get there early…for a good spot”………but mainly before any of our fellow campers awoke……..and whispered ” there’s that dolt from Maine…..or was it Wyoming? ??? He marched right passed the Absolutely No Fishing Sign…….who does he think he is? Dick Cheney?”

We arrived at Garner SP and Maria who check us into some great spots on the river, we had water only sites but we were in “save some money mode” and $12 a night was the way to do it……..well , we could save money if I wasn’t buying every sticker for my cooler from every town and SP we stayed in for $4.50 a throw, and oysters,and rum…and…

Maria was a self proclaimed aficionado of all things fishing,so Larry and I beat feet back to the Ranger Station the next day to get the true skinny from a local fly fishing expert. We entered the station and were greeted by Maria’s smiling face…….or was she smiling at Larry? Maria had taken a shine to Larry yesterday………of course Larry had laid it on with a grain shovel when we checked in. It reminded me of my youth……watching the “players”….my friends who had the “gift” of BS…….. I would listen to them blow smoke up some gals dress and think ” you’re really gonna buy the load of fertilizer girl?” I guess we all like flattery…and attention……and Larry was/is an expert….I suppose I’m a bit jealous

As Larry and Maria cooed , giggle and engaged in high school banter , I day dreamed about big fish on a fly rod!! ……. I snapped to as I heard Maria announce ” Guess how many fish I caught on my best day fishin?” Maria paused for dramatic effect…and then proclaimed ” 283! I told my husband I was ready to go home cause my arm was sore from catching sooo many fish” Larry’s eyes rolled in his noggin like

I did a quick math problem in my head and arrived at a fish every 1.7 minutes for 8 straight hours…..my bull shit alarm echoed in my head as Larry asked what kinda flys do you use in this river?

“Flies?? Flies?? I don’t fly fish honey…..proclaimed Maria

Huh?

Maria looked around the deserted station before offering in a hushed tone

“Corn”

“Corn works best sugar britches” Sugar britches? Who the hell talks that way? Maria apparently.

“So Maria……..the trout only eat corn? Bass? Corn also? Bluegill? Corn as well

We half heartedly thanked Maria and slinked back to the Jeep……. ” how the hell do you keep corn on during a backcast “? A question for the ages

In search of supplies the next day we entered the feed store and noticed deer corn spilled near the display for ….feeders……down south ,they feed the deer….then when the deer get comfortable with the free lunch….and waltz into the clearing with the feeder that whirlybirds the corn out like “pez” dispenser on steroids….. you BLAST em!! Seems a bit one sided to me, but what do I know ,I’m not a hunter.

Maria said corn corn and more corn…….if it’s corns what they want….corns what they’ll get….behold…

We calls it……DCP…..Deer Corn Pattern !

drill a 3/32 hole in the corn…..hook….super glue…and you are in business!

I beat the river into a froth and watched the minnows peck at the DCP in the gin clear water on every cast…….I could see the bass or trout….some kind of bigger fish…ignore every presentation…..BASTARDS!

I didn’t catch any fish….but I was comforted in the knowledge that I was not” caught”

using a DCP ..maybe I needed the blue colored corn like you see at halloween??

* aka Jeremy W.

The Park is just outside…….you guessed it…Corpus Christi

$25 for W& E…….that’s water and electric for you folks who have not been RVing for almost a month like Karen and I! We’ve been gone for almost two months but I managed to invent excuses for ” how bout we stick around for a couple more days? I’m mean ya know the weather is looking a bit squirrely out there” So most of our trip has been us “RVing” is someone’s guest room……..eating their food……using their shampoo…… “hey that shits expensive “…….drinking their hooch…” that shits really expensive ” and ya know …watching their Netflix.

But back to Corpus SP… its an ok campground, I say ok because the opossum bend camping loop that we are in …is tight…..like I heard a guy burp this morning…..and no one was outside……..I mean it was a burp to be proud of…..but come on! That’s a little too close for me.

The lake is beautiful with good access and two piers …….the catching……is nada….not…..no fish here! Although the local I talked to , a guy named LeRoy …said that there are plenty of fish and ya never know what is gonna be on your line, catfish , white bass, Alligator Garr, large mouth bass, crappie ….ya never know said LeRoy!

Dude musta had his Nostradamus mojo working……cause shit got weird later………but first I must cast and cast and cast and try a top water plug….or try a plastic worm or a jig…or a crank bait ….or a EVERYTHING IN MY TACKLE BOX!!!!! I had a deep diver plug on , that had some weight to it……..what this means is , I’m able to cast it a long distance……..which makes fisherman happy…..because they are able to cover a lot of water!!!…..the truth is we are able to “not catch fish” over the long distance of a BIG CAST….…..which delays the realization that we are shitty fishermen AND we didn’t catch a fish on that cast either…just like the 8,437,307 casts prior to that one….what bunch of crap!! Fortunately for me, the “white breasted black winged stump chicken” were present in large numbers for my entertainment…..the stinky buggers!!

One bird in particular gave new meaning to “bird brain” …….continually trying to intercept my airborne plug…….ahhh….plugs have Very Sharp treble hooks…for those of you who have not imbedded a treble hook in your thumb SO FAR that the barb came out your elbow….suffice to say these things catch EVERYTHING! Your pants,your thumb,

THIS IS NOT MY THUMB……STOCK PHOTO****

you best pals sons ear ( sorry Colton), the dock, the railing…you get the picture.

Bird Brain…….upped his game to include diving into the water after the plug.

*

…..this bird made have been kin to the guy who drove thru the road closed gate a few weeks ago………..I made sure I began my retrieve the second the plug hit the water…it was a diving plug so it went out of bird brains depth pretty quick……and then on the tenth cast…….I muffed the bail set and fumbled the handle…..and time froze as the bird dove at the plug and the coil of line floating on the waters surface………..as I fumbled for the handle and tried to yank the plug away……you guessed it……..perfect hook set…..#$*$#+_[{¥|^!!!!!!!! This bird was hooked right in the beak!!!!!!!!!!

As my brain processed the best course of action, weighing the options of how to resolved the situation, calmly analyzing each of the many scenarios in milliseconds one after the other…with lightning speed

that’s bullshit…….my brain was screaming WTF! WTF! WTF! WTF!!!,…….fortunately as I freaked out ,LeRoy the friendly local Texas fisherman talked me off the ledge……”it’s ok man just reel him in” and I’m thinking great….just reel him in ,like you catch a bird on a bass plug every day.?My eyes scanned the shore line for the news crew that would surely report my transgressions on tonight’s evening news

” Dipshit from Wyoming targets poor defenseless “Stump Chicken” with razor sharp treble hooks. It appears to this reporter that the perpetrator may be part of a larger CELL of Aves- traffickers “!! Channel 13’s crack legal team weighs in on the possibility of hate crime charges at 11!!!

Fortunately for me ,LeRoy calmly talked me into “landing” the gull on the pier, but not before bird brain made several runs….making the drag SING! But then he expertly corralled the terrified bird( aves) and removed the hook from his beak.

**

LeRoy was cool as the other side of the pillow as he released the bird………..not sure what I would’ve done without his help

I didn’t catch what I was targeting…..but I caught something………..and I hooked it in the mouth……a guy can’t ask for much more……..except that nobody notice the sea gull shit ALL OVER my hat and sleeve. @#!!.”(*&$ fricking Stump chickens!

I returned to the 5er ( that’s what we seasoned , one month veteran RVers call our rigs) unsure if I was proud or embarrassed……..I settled on embarrassment and replied to Karen’s question of “catch anything “? I stammered and stuttered like when my Mom asked ” what are you burning up there in your room? Incense?” Yeah Ma its incense. ”

Nope didn’t get a bite”….Beads of sweat appeared on my brow …this was like every lie you told as a youngster…….she knows I’m lying…she knows..she knows…..as Karen looked at me trying to decide how much beer I could have possibly carried to the pier I fumbled with the channel changer………nothing on the news!! Thank god!! Just then Larry and Shannon walked in “Catch anything”? …..What the heck was this ……Guantanamo Bay?? STOP WITH INTERROGATIONS ALREADY! I can’t take anymore!…….Get off me already! Fortunately for me it was happy hour

And the subject changed quickly to topics who’s foundation were not rooted in lies…………

how about we just keep the Stump Chicken Incident of 2019 on the down low for now?

* Special thanks to Shannon LeRoy for the wonderful painting of the stump chicken used in this story.

** Some names have been changed to protect the identity of those smart enough to understand the risk of being associated with my hijinks

*** no actual thumbs were used in the making of this story

Special thanks to our boneheads in Washington for the shutdown, you’ve managed to close the National Parks, forcing folks to flock to the state parks and back roads and abandoned lots. I don’t really think D.C. is to blame for the new reservation system that the parks are implementing , but I’m gonna blame them anyway.

The new system is so fouled up that the rangers and certainly the workkampers that man the entry booths are so confused it’s a wonder anyone can get in. The rules seem to change from location to location and even person to person within the booth…..I’m hopeful that at some point the rules will penetrate my thick skull……given past experiences,this could take some time.

Goose Island is outside of Rockport Texas which has everything you need for supplies, I would however STRONGLY URGE YOU TO AVOID Minuit man 10 minute oil change 2610 highway 35 N…….. I have never seen a business prey on tourists and especially older tourists with 100 % markup and ” invented” issues. I’m embarrassed to admit that that they quoted me $99 for an air filter, when I squealed, ” I’ll give it to ya for $89″ like that was such a great deal. Later I called O’Reillys auto and was quoted $50!!My friend noticed them telling a older couple that there fill cap O rings were bad…….I’m sure the guy screwed them for $10 each for a .50 cent O ring that was NOT in need of replacement.

All our other experiences in and around Rockport were great, including Benchwarmers bar and grill,good food , service and cold beer!

Our good friends Larry and Shannon learned me up on fishin…….apparently it’s about the catching..not the casting, baiting up and being snagged as I’m so fond of. Black drum and spotted tail trout? Or were they redfish? Not sure ,but we caught fish by god!

Not sure if all Texas state parks offer a rod loaner program but Goose Island does and we took advantage, the rods complete with sinkers and hooks ,though well used were serviceable,all we needed was some bait…….and cooperative fish.

Larry’s results

my results

The only knock on the campground were the airboats full of duck hunters who felt a need to get out early…..you know……before the sun is up…….like three and a half hours before the sun is up! I have never stuck my head inside of the cowling of a jet engine before but I’m pretty sure it is not any louder than an airboat. I’m a notorious early riser but these guys were taking off at 4 AM!! When you figure in prep time and travel time…….are they getting up at 2??? The only thing I’d get up that early for is to go to sleep….I have read that there is a genetic correlation with duck hunters and mental illnesses.

visit Goose Island campground if you get a chance! And check out ” The Big Tree” it’s Over 1000 years old……it’s been around even longer than the stupidity in D.C.

The fish weren’t big but Larry’s ultra light rod was perfect

Bloodies were in order after all that catching!!

The Bloody Mary thing seems to be a reoccurring theme with me, now of course my friends love it…….my liver on the other hand has threatened legal action .

Larry’s “Campground Famous” OYSTER SHOOTERS

Larry’s liver has contacted my liver to consider the possibility of a class action suit.

We are enjoying warm sunny weather along with shorts! The last time I wore shorts was in Baton Rouge in late December when I almost died from exposer on the golf course! Goose island state park is a great spot….check it out!

Bring some tomato juice and friends!!

We left Wyoming in good spirits with high hopes for warmer weather, 7 hours later we’d made it 175 miles to our dear friends home in Cheyenne. We bucked wind and a bit of snow to Wheatland and a highway alert of a closed I-25!!! We waited for a couple of hours …….and as luck would have it,our wait was rewarded…with a guy who could win a Darwin Award. While dozing at the gas station ,staring at the on ramp barriers because I had nothing else to do , along comes Darwin…..turns left off the overpass onto the on-ramp …..starring at his phone……..BAM!!! He drives right through the gate…..I could see the surprise on his face even from a 150 yards away …he was sooooo surprised that someone put a 2 x 6 right in his way!! While he was busy texting he apparently didn’t see the barrier OR the 18 wheeler that was riding his ass and ALSO texting…. the 18 wheeler just barely……barely stopped before ass packing Darwin. Darwin exited the pickup…kinda looked around to see if anyone saw him…like you do when you trip on a curb, or wiff a golf shot…..OF COURSE WE SAW YOU…..dumbass, the gas station parking lots are packed with people who have superhuman sight! Which allows them to see 3 foot bright orange square signs and cones and an orange 2×6….AND the superhero ability to not drive thru them.

Darwin waddles over to the 2 x 6 and deposits it in the ditch……like he was just driving by and I noticed this board in the road!!! I better move it before some unfortunate soul runs it over!!! He gets in his pickup and disappears down the on-ramp ….18 wheeler guy follows after a brief pause…..a pause I suspect was needed to clean his skivvies out after almost driving over the top of his brother Darwin Sr. Not sure how the conversation was going to go when the HP found them on the interstate….” how did you get out here? I ahhhh….drove? No no…how’d you get around the blockade? Ahhh what blockade??

Shortly there after a HP arrived and ” guarded” the fallen 2 x 6…. the HPs head was on a swivel…..as he fought back the urge to lightly place his hand on the butt of his service weapon …his eyes darted to and fro……in the hopes of spying the dastardly perpetrators….but alas…..the trail was ice cold. Much to the delight of our fellow travelers The Wydot Show started shortly after!! A Wyoming department of transportation one ton rolled up and stopped with chirp! The four doors flew open and vest wearing state workers spilled out like a Shriner parade, the five guys stared at the board in the ditch…..I imagined them uttering a few words of reverence in hushed tones over their fallen comrade ……..or maybe they just said ” shit,we gotta fix it now”.Just then two more trucks rolled up with a vibe of a swat team arriving at the location of the ” situation “…..more bodies rolled out the doors with the precision of a synchronized swim team and milled about scanning the horizon like they were seal team 6 . After a few minutes…once the group was convinced that the vermin scum …most likely from Denver was no longer a threat to any more 2 x 6’s….they set about to the work at hand. Two of the 12 workers tried replacing the 2 x 6…. as in they held it up where it was snapped off…..what the hell did they think was going to happen……..the wood fibers would start regenerating like Jean- Luc Picard being moved from here to there in Star Trek? After a few seconds they came to the conclusion that bailing wire, gorilla glue and duck tape was not the way to go. Suddenly….ok maybe not suddenly…..two of the guys who had been standing around sipping coffee, while trying to appear to be needed for something other than being a placeholder for the state payroll department…..begrudgingly retrieved a NEW 2 x 6 from one of the 3 $60,000 one ton crew cabs. Now we are down to only 8 of the unnecessary labor either shooting the breeze with the HP or trying to blend into the background of snow and sage……I was impressed as a few almost pulled it off…..like they were doing that” freeze” game from the Internet a few years ago….looking like Lot’s wife in a yellow reflective vest is an art.Eventually most everyone hovered over the two guys installing….what?……4-6 bolts? I can only assume they were there for moral support…….” come on Larry…stab that bolt…..stab that bolt….come on Shannon install that flat washer….install the lock washer…….holy shit Shannon! You can do it! Install the lock nut!! WAY TO GO CREW! CRAP! We’re late for coffee break! And then like a apparition, they were gone………..not really…….they screwed the pooch for 20 minutes,milking the clock for all it was worth…..I guess it takes that long to put away a 1/2 ratcheting an end wrench.

After the show we headed back towards Casper and the Torrington turn off and a roundabout way to Cheyenne, not the greatest start to our GRAND ADVENTURE.

Thrusting thru the snow and wind we made Colorado and just into New Mexico

After:

The Raton pass was most impressive, and our friends Steve and Bridgett had warned us it was steep …….holy crap!…… steep my ass….a staircase is steep…..this is a frickin ladder!…..I was no longer gloating about the $10,000 I saved buying a gasser instead of a diesel……..the Ford F -250 stayed on task….if not just a bit noisily. I think the truck had confidence…..I on the other hand periodically checked the rear view mirrors for…..you know………transmissions that may have exploded and fallen off….only to be run over by the brand new fifth wheel…..I had visions of our beloved kitchen island , impaled with a Ford driveline, complete with pumpkin dragging under the 5 er, a light show of sparks trailing behind us and eventually igniting the propane tanks……My little visions appear.. like in the movie Final Destination ( one of my favorites for its cheesiness, crappy acting and writing ) perhaps my Catholic upbringing leads me to assume devastation is at the end of every bend and I should feel guilty about it. I was snapped from my propane explosion Vision by road debris…a little jerk of the wheel expertly kept the Fords tires from harm……as I silently congratulated myself on my stellar driving skills the 5 er did a little jig…….sorta kinda like that River Dance……..I now wondered what part of the undercarriage would ” fall off” either at a later date or now as the 47 cars and trucks behind us cursed my 51 mph accent in the 70 mph zone.

We stayed with our friends Paul and Mary in Santa Fe…….well in their driveway…..after I backed over their solar lights that at one time shone brightly, the boundary of the driveway. After crushing the left row I determined I needed to be more to the right……that spelled the end for that row. I propped the tops back on…..sorta……I’m sure they will be fine. We had a wonderful time with these fine folks and we hope to visit again ….if we are ever invited back. Backing up a fifth wheel is tough.

We made our way to Lubbock Texas next and were greeted with 10″ of snow, a flooded KOA office and some owners that win the award for most ” positive attitude ” the campground was in various states of deep snow , 5″ of water and some thick ice. After Miss positive attitude checked me in and apologized for the conditions I careened thru the slop 200 feet to our pull thru. The nice lady sized me up as a cherry and gave me the spot straight ahead from where I parked in front of the office in an effort to minimize my chance of becoming high centered on a picnic table…….what a kind woman. As Karen and I scrambled to find warm clothing, gloves and winter hats we silently wondered why we came south in search of warmth. Casper was 42 and sunny, it was 12 degrees when we awoke to find our sitter hose encased in an ice block like some reptilian creature from the wooly mammoth period.WTF…….the RV salesman never went over ” here’s what you do when all your shit, tires included are frozen rock solid to the earth”. We awaited the warmth of 10 am before fording the river that had been a road…and then a frozen tundra…and now 36″ of water…….alright maybe not that deep but……there was a lot of water. I was elated to find some dongfaced ass parked his pickup right on the hairpin corner of the park……now someone who had been pulling fifth wheels for awhile….like more than 10 total hours…would not be FLIPPING OUT!! BUT I WAS. Karen expertly coached me thru the bend and my psychotic episode, but this didn’t set the right mood for the beginning of the day. We were elated to discover that the ice had not completely melted from the Highway……….SCORE!!

Did I mention it also rains in Texas?

We made it to Spicewood Texas and more good friends …..the ones who said Raton pass was a hill…….bastards. We left the 5er at a lot near Marble Falls and enjoyed Steve’s parents Lake Travis home…..what a view! Unfortunately the weather continued to SUCK. We made the best of it by eating our body weight in bbq, drinking too much……well I drank too much….the rest of the crew is closer to normal human beings. We also attempted to use the new blow up kayak…..this resulted in me being covered in water, Karen wondering ( not so silently) if I had ever been in a watercraft and the aforementioned watercraft going in circles. It’s a little disappointing to realize you are inept at something as seemingly simple as paddling a canoe,while not neurosurgery,it is tougher than it looks….well….it is. We also went golfing….well Steve and Bridget golfed, Karen rode along and I hit every tree that shouldn’t have been in play and a couple of houses. In an effort to fool the weather, I wore shorts…..and froze my ass off. Karen went back to the truck and got a blanket! Bridget looked at me like I had the IQ of a welder, Steve said we should get beer. It is hard to focus on which roof you just sliced into when your knees are knocking and your nipples are trying to escape your chest……but I found 3 of the 9 balls I thought were lost. Trying to acting like 50 degrees is warm because your from Wyoming is futile in the Texas humidity , 50 in Texas is pool playing weather not golf weather……took me three rounds and two dozen golf balls to have that realization…….I’m a slow learner at best and an idiot at worst. We did other stuff…but I don’t remember what

We headed towards Lake Conroe and a storage lot on Tree Monkey road….what a cool name Tree Monkey road…..who named that? Three guys sitting on a beer cooler ? So far as I know Texas ain’t got monkeys but who knows maybe Davey Jones was from Texas. I almost forgot ….on our way over to Conroe , on I-10 I think….through construction that left the two lane road resembling a Costa Rican 1 & 3/4 lane road we met a species common to all states…the ” mouth breather” as Eleven would say from Stranger Things. While traveling through the serpentine goat trail of a road,complete with speed limits that go from 20 mph to 70 in the space of 100 feet we encountered said mouth breather. The guy started riding my bumper at almost the start of the construction rodeo, having to travel at + or – 2 mph of the posted limits apparently sent Bubba over the edge. After a flagger waved us down to the posted 20 mph signage I envisioned Bubba sending spittle into the windshield as he questioned my sexual preference in barnyard animals. A half mile later we were rewarded with Bubba swerving into the oncoming lane at a stoplight and screeching alongside us in his 1994 Dodge, it was hard to fully comprehend what was going on as Bubba’s Rottweiler ,who’d I guess was not named scruffy…did the best Cujo impersonation since Cujo. The dog looked like he was coming through the half down window..spit flying,teeth clacking the glass…and then I snapped to as Bubba suggested I learn how to drive ” that damn rig”!…. Karen and I simultaneously burst out laughing ……Bubba was unimpressed as he chirped his tires and sped through the red light and the fortunately empty intersection . I’m always impressed that our world contains characters that, well, seem to be characters out of a movie…so stereotypical that it defies logic……that your brain can’t seem to process it….” that is so silly it can’t be real? Or is it”? The great people of Texas far out number the Bubba’s of every state, but no road trip story is complete without an interaction or two with the mouth breather population.

stay tuned and enjoy the trip!!

Maynard Lake Lodge Fishing Adventure 2018

My good buddy Patrick John Duncan arranged yet another fishing trip to the great white north! I being a sucker for anything fishing jumped at the chance to participate , knowing full well that Duncan initiated travel sometimes goes horribly off the tracks. We arranged our flights in February and by the time June 9th rolled around neither Pat nor I had the foggiest notion of who was doing what and where we were going to be confused at. Well not really I suppose, as we had fished here in 2016 together with his sons, but Pat and I are sometimes able to inject a level of chaos in very familiar situations. This ability rivals any high level executive in every large corporation in America and at times comes close to our representatives in Washington,although Pat and I are capable , we fall well short of the ass hats in DC. I suppose that is something to aim at as we age and our thought process erodes further into the abyss.

After several frantic conversations, we assured ourselves that we had developed a cost savings travel plan that,not only saved the cost of a hotel in Kenora but also the food and libation cost connected to an over night stay. I on occasion have been able to completely blow a budget by uttering a benign phase like “ wanna shoot a game of pool in this friendly neighborhood bar and grill.”? Or “ this strip joint won’t be that expensive “. So with mature resolve
we devised a plan to depart Casper and Grand Junction at 5 pm after a full day of chores , or in my case, mowing a yard roughly the size of a postage stamp and then taking a nap. When my wonderful wife woke me from my nap at 3:30, my first thought was of Joey from friends “ how you doin” once the look on my wife’s face registered in my feeble brain that I was the biggest moron this side of Joey on friends, I understood there was no time for any shenanigans. I was to be at airport at 4 not 5 and better get a move on! My loving wife deposited me and my overstuffed bag at the airport in plenty of time, and I naively believed the travel all but complete…Pat and I meet in Denver, located our gate, ate a sandwich that was prepared during the Hoover administration,at a cost of $73.50 and found me a quick drink! This thing was going like clockwork …..until we boarded and noticed the mother and newborn seated behind us, now when I say newborn, I mean this kid looked like it just arrived 12 minutes ago! Much to our delight the child never made a peep, but our dreams of a extended nap on the 2 hour flight were dashed, as they are with any patron of the airlines, dashed by seats made for preteens,not adults, flight attendants shelping carts to and fro that are basically elbow and knee seeking missiles , turbulence that try and deposit you in the aisle…..you get the picture. We landed with a thud and careened down the runway at a bit of a slant before deplaning to meet with tired underpaid “ immigration” officers. After I was interrogated about the cigars and 7.5 ounces of Baileys in my luggage along with having to explain and apologize once again for drunken offenses committed 5 Presidential administrations ago, I scampered off to find Pat trying to out maneuver the rental car up sell. Once in the Dodge Challenger rental car that Pat paid “ only slightly extra “ for,we arrived at a revelation so striking, yet so simplistic……the Challenger seats are made by the airline seat manufacturers! The one glaring difference is that the Challenger seat, in an effort to make it even more uncomfortable than a plane seat,is only 13/32” of an inch off the car floor! As we departed the parking structure at midnight we lamented that we already been awake since the Jurassic period. Pat and I are no longer what you would call ……young,but in an effort to avoid unduly causing the other to worry we refrained from speaking about missing our bedtime by approximately 4 hours. I venture to guess that passengers and crew did the same aboard the Titanic
No one said “ hey there’s a giant hole in the ship!”

We confronted our 2.5 hours drive with the silent resolve of two old guys who internally where screaming “ why did I agree to this madness! Why did I let this dumbass talk me into this? I need sleep,I’m OLD”. We were however comforted by the word that an all night Tim Hortons coffee shop awaits! The thought of bear claws and jelly donuts with copious amounts of fresh brewed steaming hot coffee, kept us focused as we hurtled down the flat highway in the darkness that is Manitoba .This again is a view of our oldness, just a few decades ago we would have injected a strip joint into this story…. but.. we are decrepit

After approximately what felt like 14 hours we arrived at our destination “oh the joy!” Tim HORTONS,! What comfort we felt as we opened the Challenger doors and rolled out onto the dewy asphalt on all fours, straightening up will all the dignity that two old guys can muster at 3 AM after being awake since Kim Kardashian was a nobody. As we triumphantly stood at the door, we were greeted by a sign proclaiming,”sorry we are closed until further notice as we can not find any help that is not on drugs or booze”. The moment froze in time as I did the calculation that Pat and I had consumed enough coffee to fill Lake Erie in an effort to make it to this oasis of flush toilets . Did I mention that we are old.? Old guys need to pee, maybe not a lot but OFTEN! Have you ever held your pee so long that it stopped hurting? Medically speaking this is the body saying,” we gave you a heads up ….with 90 minutes of searing pain, now we are going to allow your chest cavity fill with bile as you have flooded the system…….happy now?” As we stumbled back to the low rider we weighed our options, stay here and die? Or head off in search of a pisser? Off in the distance,above what passes for Kenoras skyline was a beacon of hope, an answer to our urinary woes, A Shell gas station shown brightly in the dark sky! We looked at one another as if we had jointly discovered nirvana and folded ourselves into our chariot, a chariot that would deliver us to our salvation, to shitter heaven! As we approached the Shell it became apparent that the bars had closed recently,small bunches of 20-30 something men with the occasional younger VERY drunk woman thrown in the group. One couple staggered two steps forward,two to the right,one forward with relative repeatability giving the appearance of some tribal line dance…..but they were just hammered. As we pulled into the Shell a throng of people milled at the corner of the building, I tried to exit the ride with as much dignity as one can while rocking back and forth like grandpa trying to get a run at rising from the lazy boy as we were sized up by the local group as fossil outsiders . I could see that they were at some sort of drive up window and the clerk inside as I yanked on the locked front door. The bright light shown thru windows of the building we would never enter with a sign on the door that proclaimed “ bathrooms out of service”. As I yanked repeatedly on the obviously locked door a guy shouted “ over here bro” I stiffened noticeably with a sense of fear. I figured I would be hit on for an “extra” cigarette, beer money at best or get shanked like a scene from American History X at worst. Turned out the guy was being helpful as the Shell did business out of the drive up during the late hours to avoid the drunks from stealing all the ding dongs and vomiting everywhere.
For some unknown reason I requested a coffee with two creams, after the nice clerk counted back the phony looking Canadian change….a mixture of Saran Wrap and wax paper, I realized I had a 3 minutes before I soiled my britches .
The clerk locked the door and came outside to smoke a cigarette, speaking of cigarettes…Canadians are serious about their anti smoking campaigns. They force the producers to not only put a stern warning on the pack, a far more graphic warning that the US,but also pictures ….and there are multiple photos schemes and verbiage . So your pack might say “ smoking will cause you to abort your unborn child in the twelfth week of pregnancy “ and then there will be a picture of a young mother with a fetus on the floor at her feet…..WTF!!!!
Or “ smoking causes oral cancer” and then there will be a horrible picture of some dude missing his lower jaw. The American smokers I saw made a game out of grossing each other out…..” hey check out the picture on my pack”……disgusting!
It appears the Canadians just ignore the whole unsettling attempt to curb usage and happily pay $114 a pack for cigarettes that are smaller in diameter than American cigarettes , shorter by 3 inches and look to have the same amount of smokable product as a pin joint rolled out of the last of the weed picked out of the shag carpet in the back of your 1976 Chevy van. I suppose this is all part of the governmental master plan to tax and regulate the behavior of her citizenry. Speaking of sin tax, give up drinking if you are headed north, a handle of rum only cost 225% more than at Sams……unfortunately for me their attempt at curing my drinking problem was unsuccessful and I will be investigating getting a part time Job or selling a nonessential organ when I get home.
Back to our clerk…………….

…………..” it’s them damn rich kids from Winnipeg , they come rolling up here in there fancy cars,with there fancy clothes and all their fancy talk. They don’t buy anything here……they bring all their beer food and supplies from Winnipeg”
Now I’m not a brain surgeon or even a tree surgeon but why would anyone wait to supply up until they got to a one horse seasonal tourist town???? ……let me see …..I can pay $3 for bread in Winnipeg or I can wait and get it in Kenora for $7 . I can understand the Shell clerks frustration even if his argument doesn’t hold water. No one likes people invading their town,looking down their nose at the locals, getting drunk,trying to screw their sisters and occasionally beating the crap out of their brother…..and oh yeah…projectile vomiting in the Shell station shitter so the local owner has to close it so old guys like me have to urinate in the parking lot of the towns only hotel after sleeping in a Dodge Challenger for 4 hours only to discover it was all captured on the security camera and will probably be a hot topic with me and the immigration nazis on my next trip up here .

Pat doesn’t worry too much about anything….bastard…..I tossed and turned in the 13/32 “ Challenger seat…or as much as a old fat guy can toss in s seat sized for a moon landing ……Dunk farted and snored and cooed to Jeanne for four solid hours while I worried about Dudley Doright riding up window side and banging on it with his 37” flashlight that holds 17 D batteries all the while blinding me and demanding I read a cue card to prove I’m sober even though I’m rolling my head side to side like Stevie Wonder because he BLINDED ME!
Fortunately I dreamed this same situation 14 times in the total 12 minutes I dosed off………the stench of Pats healthy diet exiting his dupa woke me at intervals that spared me the dream part where Dudley ,”Rodney Kinged “ me. This trip sucks.

The float plane ride was cool as always and our pilot careened his plane maybe 10 feet off the tree tops as he buzzes the lodge and then dive bomb the dock before leveling off and executing a perfect landing. Maybe he mistaken our punch drunk,,,,, I haven’t slept in 50 hours behavior for a hangover and was messing with us he was unaware that we…although old…are professionals …we solved all that with a red beer at breakfast!
Pat and I enjoyed a week of great fishing and friendship

I’m not sure if anything funny happened….because I’m old. We are however going again in June of 2019…so stay tuned

We started to leave at 10:30 ish

Its 1:02 and we are only five miles out of Baton Rouge but Irina is driving like she’s Danika. Patrick ‘s twin sister from a different mother. Kathryn and I nurse a beer in the back seat like it something everyone does as the trees roll by and the wipers work against what appears to be a Louisiana constant . We stopped at a BBQ joint in Mississippi called the Shed……the place was cool in a ramshackle way with multiple structures I’ll call buildings. The Shed was all but deserted at 2 ish but the beer was cold and the BBQ was good ,we walked the grounds and their several docks , complete with the don’t feed the gator signs . The place had the feel of a Walking Dead stage with a cross of bayou slasher film with no one around , but you could tell the place was a really happening one in the good weather, with a stage and people showing up in boats and the multilevel outdoor areas. The Shed was well worth the price just to see the eclectic structures……..and of course cold beers.

Dauphin Island awaits and should be an interesting adventure, with fishing and perhaps some beer.

We arrived in the fading light and a light rain…….UNBELIEVABLE! Karen had rented a 2 bed 2 bath condo just a block and a half from Lynn and Mary Beth’s condo which was most convenient.

We had rain,mist,fog and rain and locusts…….ok, maybe no locusts….suffice to say the weather sucked……but the people were good. Mary Beth and Lynn took us out surf fishing in what would have been a gentle rain but the Wyoming like gale force WIND transformed the drops into a billion tiny pebbles, pelting your face with a audible smack………well maybe it wasn’t that bad but the continuous rain coupled with a wind that reduced my casting ability to about seven feet was starting to wear on me. As you might suspect a seven foot cast puts your bait in the zone and water depth where mothers bounce their 18 month old infants when introducing them to the wonders of the ocean. After flailing at the force field like wind for an hour I noticed Lynn and the other experienced fisherwoman , Linda had migrated to the other side of the spit of land/ sand to the bay side. Accepting defeat at the hands of mother nature , I loaded up the “ sandwangon” with my pole and trudged across 150 yards of soggy towards the “smart” people. Linda had recently upgraded her wagon with balloon tires made for dragging 8 fishing rods, $1,700 worth of hooks , sinker , plastic baits and all the other accouterments that catch the eye of fisher people around the globe . The aforementioned crap that we all are guilty of buying catches way more fisher people than fish……but this is the sacrifice we all make in an effort to keep capitalism churning. Thank goodness for the new tires as I barely noticed the 150# of gear and the required beer and ice . Once I got within shouting distance , Lynn greeted me with “ where have you been? They are jumping everywhere !”

Thanks Lynn……….but I was busy dislocating my shoulder trying to cast out 8’.

The wind was at our back on this side so I was able to cast out almost 15’…..I don’t think that was in the feeding zone of the fish either , but I felt better that my bait was in 3’ of water as opposed to 7” like the other side. All three of us were getting bites, I assume small croaker, too small to take the hook but it was action by god! And fisher people like action, an occasional snag is enough to make you stay out there exercising your futility genes. Lynn showed us up by catching a scate ( sp) which looked like a stingray looking thing to this Wyoming boy, I was happy she had to take it off the hook……we all know what happened to the alligator man.

The sun popped out for about 37 seconds and fooled us into thinking we were almost warm…..by second 42 we knew it was a trick, and a sign that the warm condo,dry socks and a cold drink awaited the now “ successful “ fisherpeople,thanks to Lynn ! No one wants to quit at fishing and thus being forced to say “we didn’t catch shit”, Lynn saved us from that terrible fate.

12-24-18

We went to this Christmas Eve and it was cool as shit, the fires light the way for Papa Noel , the Cajun Santa. Looking left and right down the levy were fires as far as you could see.

When we first arrived and parked in a neighborhood of the 10,000-15,000 person community,  we walked towards the crowd and music not sure what the SOP was. 

A man walking down the street asked if we needed help or directions and asked where we were from, Karen instantly played the Wyoming card …when you say Wyoming , it’s like you are from outer space or something! Irina played the I’m from Russia card which is like a royal flush to Wyoming’s two of a kind…Gerard was most impressed that we traveled so far for the bon fires! We neglected to tell him Kathryn and Irina live in Baton Rouge….at least for a while. Gerard like most Louisianan’s was a bubbling caldron of hospitality and friendliness….seconds later he is whisking us off the street and into his sisters house which like most houses on the block is over flowing out the garage with what looks like a tailgate party!

Have some gumbo!!!!! Have a drink! Have some more gumbo! This is my sister! This is my second cousin twice removed,this is my uncle,he made the gumbo,this is my neighbor,he made the ice,have some GUMBO!!!!!  no one seemed phased as we stumbled through the house with steaming bowls of GUMBO!!!!! And sat down to a wonderful man ( uncle Broussard????) who told stories of the family’s history as well as the town and the bon fires…all the while lovingly stroking the hand of his wife who he told us ,suffered dementia and did not understand the conversation but who was always smiling and always by his side.What a sweet man.

As we stood to leave Gerald’s sister appeared and offered the bathroom …….did I mention these people are cool as shit? None of the 30 relatives visiting in the dinning and living room seemed to notice a procession on strangers wading to the can!

As Gerard led us thru the house,garage and back onto the street,we ran the gantlet of all the folks we’d met on the way in, uncle Gumbo, second cousin,HAVE SOME GUMBO! Want a drink for the road? The neighbor who made the ice….everyone was so nice.

Gerard pointed us towards his family’s bon fire and told us to stop back by and to enjoy the festivities.

The tepees of logs encased in black cat fire crackers were impressive as the family’s set them aflame by shooting Roman candles into the structures reeking of diesel and kerosene from an OSHA approved distance of about 22 1/2 inches. As the fires where lit the family sponsored fire works started, there was a ton of money spent on that, I’m sure the competition between each family is quite high to see who can out do who!

The homes that face the levy and the street between ,look and sound like outdoor county and western bars with music blaring about Bobby Joe and Betty Lou meeting at fishing pond after dark to drink beer in “ thhhhee baaack oooof myyyy pick uuuup truck”, from the looks of the revelry this is an all day event! The bon fire sponsors build little “ bridges over the drainage ditch between the road and the the base of the levy for the masses to wheel beer coolers and all their gear to the top of the levy. During the “pre burn “the MO appears to be drinking and eating in lawn chairs while pedestrians jockey for a foot hold on the 12 ‘ wide levy top. As the crowd swells people take position on the front slope of the levy at a safe (NOT!) 4-5’away from 20’ tall tepees of inferno, the front is safer than the back where the fireworks are and where a few misguided drunken steps leads to the mighty Mississippi and a certain death. The crowd watching was stellar with only the occasional teenage boy slapping the back of his girlfriends head to extinguish her hair that became the landing zone for one or two of the eight hundred forty two billion six hundred twenty three million nine hundred seventeen thousand seven hundred fourteen QUARTER SIZES BURNING EMBERS that filled the air like giant fireflies.
Our good fortune continued as the full moon rose over the levy to a hight just above the 30 foot flames! Irina took 6-800 pictures so we are hoping for at least one usable photo.

As we picked our away down the face of the levy towards the street in an attempt to avoid the tumble down approach that some all day partiers preferred we ran into Gerard and his sister!

We did some group photos and hugs and email address exchanges and more hugs before inquiring which direction to the port o potties, Gerard’s sister said “ oh no sugar, I can’t have you wait in that line for those nasty things,follow me” I wish I could remember sisters name because she was absolutely a wonderful person!Sis marched us across the street to her buddies house where they have weekly prayer meetings, thru the garage amid more offers of GUMBO!!!!! To an absolutely beautiful kitchen and setting area, we complimented the owners daughter who was peddling drinks and GUMBO! When sis informed us that this was just the man cave!We helped ourselves to the restroom and then a tour of the homes “ courtyard”And a view of the “ house” ……..impressive to say the least. We fended off the drink and GUMBO pushers and threaded our way to the centipede of humanity on the street, after 7-8 hugs we thanked Sis and headed to our car which happened to be parked right by the house! We debated going in for a drink and more GUMBO  but didn’t for fear of hanging out till we were driverless…what wonderful people.

Visit the fine people of Lutcher La. if you are ever in the area, you will be stunned by their kindness and hospitality  !