This is the victorious legend of a fellowship of young men, who by the end of a long journey, became slightly better men, with an enormous tail to tell. It includes small defeats, large victories, and ultimately a story so epic, it needs to be told through the eyes of several of us who lived through it, and over several chapters. The following is part 1 of "THE" Sacco River Trip:
PART 1
8 men in their 20's with hundreds of beers, four bottles of liquor, two of which were vodka, 4 canoes, zero toilet paper, hundreds of other 20 somethings, and a river. What could go wrong?
My crew and I found out exactly that a while ago. I made the trip up north with my friends B-Ride, Nails, Merph, Slatz, my brother Joey, B-Ride's brother and one of his buddies. We ventured up north from Massachusetts to the Sacco River, a spot where young people flock every summer. A magical place where the alcohol flows almost as quickly as the river itself. It's a summertime tradition for most guys and girls in their 20's to head up for a few days of drunken debauchery while floating lazily down a river and ultimately to a shuttle which drives you back to your vehicle. As per usual with my crew of misfits and troubled souls, we took things just a bit further than most would dream. I'm sure everyone has their own war stories about the Sacco, and I'm not attempting to one-up anyone. I'll just say that there are some aspects to the following that I'm sure nobody has ever experienced.
We departed on a Friday morning in two SUV's, stopping only for gas, some food, enough water to possibly keep us hydrated for about half a day, and enough booze to destroy a thousand livers. There were 8 of us, we had no responsibilities for the weekend, and we were on a mission to get shitfaced drunk come hell, or more appropriately in this case, high water.
Upon arrival at the canoe rental place, we were getting fired up. The weather was hot but nice, we were all single, (well, most of us anyways, but we were in a different state, so it doesn't count), and there were scantily clad young females at every turn. We loaded our camping supplies, food, and most importantly, booze into the 4 canoes that we had rented until they were overflowing. So much so that we actually bought a floating cooler that we tied to the back of one of the canoes in order to fit our copious amount of beer. Our next mission was to carry the canoes to the drop-in point in the river. This was necessitated by the fact that nobody listened to my obvious idea of loading the canoes near the drop-in point, thus negating the need to physically carry the canoes about 50 feet, completely full of supplies and now weighing hundreds of pounds. My friends are not sharpest knives in the drawer. In fact, aside from Slatz and myself, most of my buddies are half retarded in some aspects of life. I love them all, but that's a fact, and I think each of them to a man would admit the same.
We shoved off and cracked the first beers. We were on our way to three days of summer fun, or so we thought. The first day was routine enough. We got drunk, but no more than anybody else, got used to piloting the canoes, and made it to what amounted to the first check point of the journey, a beach about half way down the river where we made camp and set up the grill and a campfire. We bought some firewood, listened to music, and even made some friends with others who camped at the same spot. Throughout the day, we had each consumed about 20-30 beers and got roasted in the unforgiving August sun. It probably would have been in our best interest to drink some water at this point, but fuck that, so we just kept pounding well into the night. B-Ride, who is a great cook, took control of the grill and fixed up some delicious shit. I can't remember what it was because I was a mess by this point.
The drunker we got that night, the more belligerent we became, which led to us turning into obnoxious assholes and annoying the other nearby campers. This seemed strange to us since basically the only rule on the Sacco was that were no rules and being as intoxicated as possible was the general goal of everyone there. It especially got under Nails' skin, and he began to take exception to the bitching of some kids nearby. Nails, along with myself, is one of the smaller of the guys in our crew, but also, along with myself, one of the feistier ones. Knowing that we had a large group of pretty big guys behind us, led by B-Ride, who is a brick shithouse, Nails and I were fearless. We had no problem dealing with the situation ourselves, but it certainly helped to have some big guns for support if needed. We started yelling back at some of the pussies who were giving us shit and nothing came of it except we actually had some moral support from two girls in the tent adjacent to ours. They came out and approached me and Nails. They weren't particularly attractive, but they weren't dumpster fires either. They were nice enough and we started shooting the shit with them. After some small talk it was learned that the two were girlfriends and aside from getting drunk, were just as into checking out the hot girls all around us as we were. This of course intrigued us and we decided that we would allow them to tag along with us for the rest of the trip.
We invited the lesbians to our campsite for some of B-Ride's delicious concoction of meats and grilled vegetables, but they declined, retreating back into their tent. We figured the only thing on the menu for them on this night was each other's vaginas. We told them we'd catch up with them later and sauntered back to our friends.
While we ate, we dried some towels, bathing suits, and sleeping bags that got a little wet during the first day on the water. We did this by propping the items up on long sticks that we stuck in the sand near our campfire. Merph and Joey took off up the beach to acquire some more fire wood. Slatz and I sat around the campfire while the rest of our group were off doing whatever. Somehow during this time one of the sticks holding Joey's sleeping bag tipped over directly into the fire. As we had been drinking strait for 10 hours, our reaction time was like a slow ass sloth. Slatz and I fished the sleeping bag out of the fire, giggling like the lesbians in the tent next door the whole time. By the time we extinguished the flame, the sleeping bag was a complete loss. As it turns out, sleeping bags are incredibly flammable.
"Shit, that thing's ruined. Joey is gonna be pissed." I said. My brother is like a powder keg with a pretty short fuse for stupidity. He can be mellow and very reasonable, more so than myself, but he has the Irish temper when something upsets him, and it usually makes for a miserable experience for anyone within ear shot, or punching distance.
"Well, what are you gonna do? It's probably not even his sleeping bag." Slatz reasoned. This was true, Joey had a knack for acquiring items from other people over the years. The fact remained; however, that the sleeping bag was ruined, and even though it was a hot weekend, not having anything to at least sleep on when you're lying on nothing but the floor of a tent is shitty.
We did the only logical thing, and we hung the sleeping bag up. It was charred, black, and had holes all the way through it. We placed it carefully back on it's stick and sat down like nothing had happened. Our hope was that nobody would notice until it was light out in the morning, and then we could blame it on somebody else. Not that it was our fault that it was burnt in the first place, but we preferred not to be associated with the event at all. Luckily, before Merph and Joey returned, B-Ride came over to the fire with a group of guys and girls and we socialized with them for a while. B-Ride immediately noticed the charred sleeping bag and let out his signature giggle. "Joey's gonna be pissed, hahahahaha!"
We were all drunk enough that this event could set Joey off, as he often does when this inebriated. Luckily by the morning during such partying, he usually wakes up with a clearer head, less rage, and soiled pants, thus allowing him to see the humor in the given situation.
Until then, we needed a distraction. As he and Merph approached carrying the wood, we placed the stick holding the sleeping bag onto the dark ground, away from the fire, and hoped he wouldn't notice. We next asked the kids who had come over to hang out with us to take a picture of our group. The picture turned out to be an Internet sensation to the people who we acquainted ourselves with. Everyone had their best drunken poses working and pie eyed expressions on their faces. I elected to take a different route. I stood in back of Slatz, clad in my red Sloth tee shirt from the Goonies. I pulled my nuts through my fly and placed them gently on Slatz' shoulder as the flash from the camera lit up the beach. The resulting picture can't be published here, but rest assured, it was a classic.
It was taken with one of those disposable cameras, so nobody could see the resulting image right away, but I made sure everyone there knew what the picture would look like, my nuts resting right next to Slatz' smiling face. I left my balls out long enough for everyone to notice and get a good laugh. Our new friends didn't find it so amusing and made haste back to their own site. I decided to tuck my balls back in my pants to avoid having to register as a sex offender.
Most everyone passed out a short time later, making sure they each drank enough that they'd still be drunk when we woke up to avoid hangovers...one of the many tricks that binge drinkers keep up their sleeves. Nails and I; however, had other things in mind. "Should we go see if the lesbians want to try some penis?" Nails asked me. I didn't respond but merely stood up and began stumbling towards their tent. Our first task was to find out if they sounded like they were awake, and furthermore, to find out if there was any heavy petting going on.
We heard some muffled sounds. Nails snapped his head up and looked at me with a wide grin as he pointed frantically down at the tent. I leaned in for a closer listen, apparently forgetting the fact that I had consumed about 40 beers during the course of the day. I quickly lost my balance and became top-heavy, falling on the tent and sending screams through the now relatively quiet beach.
"WHAT THE FUCK!!" The lesbians scrambled to unzip the fallen tent as I tried to get back to my feet. The task became more difficult as I was being punched and kicked through the nylon walls. I caught Nails' eyes briefly and the look on his face said both, "Uh-oh" while at the same time said, "This is hilarious."
By the time the lesbians got out of the tent and I got on my feet, half the beach was awake and looking in our direction. Nails tried to salvage the situation. "We were going to take a piss and tripped over your tent, sorry about that." The girls saw right through the silly-ass expression on his face as he tried to hold back his laughter. They looked at me. "Honestly girls, I wanted to see if you two wanted to hang out."
"What do you mean 'hang out?' Didn't you think we were sleeping." The bitchier lesbian scolded.
"It didn't sound like it...." Nails said under his breath.
I figured humor was my only way out of this jam. "Honestly ladies, I thought you may have caught a glimpse of my balls earlier and figured me and Nailsy here could try to convert you."
"Get the fuck away from us!"
Not a problem.
Coming soon, part 2....
No comments:
Post a Comment