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JULY 21, 2012 3:57AM

THE ROAD TRIP: Wandering up a mountain and coming back dead!

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It was the kind of road trip a man should take, to make him a man, at least once in his life. 


A quest to find himself, a Vision Quest.


Or turn him into a blathering idiot, whichever came first.


The year was possibly 1989, the trip before we became seniors in high school, though I was breaking a 1,005 in spiritual age according to my friend's mom who wanted to join us on our adventure up the mountain but we had to tell her no.


"Only fearless men with their teddy bears and blankey (which I had named mine BooBoo many years before.  I didn't need it but it would have been lonely if I hadn't brought it!) can make this trek!" we said, shaking our heads.


We packed our bags, only the essentials:


  • Jolt Colas.  There'd be no Circle Ks where we were trekking.
  • Turkey sandwiches, case we got hungry, as my friend's mom said handing them to us.
  • Some clean underwear. Never leave on a road trip without clean underwear. 
  • My friend's inhaler. Nothing worst than a huffing, puffing, dying asthmatic finger painter. Especially if he dies.
  • Finger paints. How would we finger paint without them
  • $6.87 in pennies and nickels.  In case we found a gumball machine up on the road.
  • A road map for Northern California.  What were we going to do with this while we were in Idaho? Trade them to the native Americans we found on our way.  Or used car sales people.
  • Three pounds of aged cheddar. Why? Is there ever a reason NOT to bring cheese?
  • 'Gentlemen magazines' from the 1950s. We also stole some cigars and brandy from my friend's grandfather's collection.  We then threw up days later as we tried to be adults and smoked the aged(note rotted) cigars and the brandy turned out to be cleaning fluid.


We were told that maybe, just maybe, it would be a good idea to pack a tent and other camping supplies as this was going to be a "Camping Adventure" as well but we were men, men did not need tents or sleeping bags or matches and such, we were going to "Rough it" as the writers of old wrote of.


"We'll dine on bugs if we have to!" my friend said to his mom who just shrugged.


We made our plans for the next day, awake before the dawn, 4am, that's when real men got up and made their adventures.


9:45 am, friend's mom came into the bedroom to wake us up. 


"Thought you two were going to be gone by 4:30?"


We yawned, stretched, blinked our eyes. "We decided that 4am was too early! So was 8am!"


We were on the road by noon.


We were stopped by the highway patrol at 12:21.


"Going kind of fast weren't you?"


We both shrugged.


"I'll give you a warn...hey, what's in the bag?"


"Cocaine sir!" my friend, the comedian reported back.


"WHAT? Both of you step out of the car!"


3:45 PM, we were released from jail with a stern warning and advice that it's not very smart to tease a man with a loaded gun and the ability to use it on two very dumb school kids on a road trip.


What was in the bag?


Baby powder my friend's mom thought would be a good idea, case we found some babies who needed their butts powdered.


5:45 PM we approached the turnoff up into the mountains, dirt road, bumpy dirt road.  I shouldn't have had that last soda.


"Pull over! I got to take a  leak!"


My friend shakes his head. "Pee in that bottle! Real men pee in bottles!"


I shook my head. "I have a feeling I'm not a real man! PULL OVER!!"


I had seen an attempt by a "real man" years before to try the pee in the bottle down a bumpy dirt road.


My mother to this day calls my dad "Chief Wet Bottom Pants" for the endeavor.


5:50 PM I was back in the car when my friend decided that a pee break was in order.


"Real men pee in a bot..." I tried to throw back.




By 6pm,  we were ready to head back down the road towards the camp site.


6:00.2PM we begin rolling forward.




Real men don't cry when their tire goes flat.


They do when they bust two knuckles trying to remove said flat and will when tire falls on foot.


Tire fixed, good thing too, real men did not feel like hiking back to the main road and down to gas station.


7:45 PM, we finally make it to camp site.  Black clouds begin forming in the sky and move towards us.


"The weather man said, no chances of rain tonight!" my friend says nodding.


Stupid weather man.


8:19 PM, the great flood opens up from the sky.  Stay in car to wait it out.


10:30 PM, we decide to sleep in car.


11:45 PM, still raining, discover car was not meant to be a camper.  God, my neck hurts.


"Real men forget about their neck hurting!" my friend says. 


"Screw you! I HATE YOU!!"


1:45 AM, still raining, ate our turkey sandwiches which seem to hit the spot.


"We should have brought a tent!" my friend says.  I nod.


2:50 AM, rain decides to stop.  We try to fall back to sleep.


3:59 AM, a bear decides to wander into camp and decides, car would be a good place to scratch his butt.  I am woken up to a close up view of bear's butt!


4:00 AM, friend wonders why I'm crying and uttering, "I'm not a real man..." over and over.  Bear decides he has had enough of my crying as well.


The next day, we awoke, fresh and ready to hike up the trail to a spot where nature would greet us with her greatness.


And a pack of wild hornets who decided we were too close to their hive and stung us.


I discovered that I was allergic to hornet stings and my face swelled up.


"I can't....I can't...." I gasped.  


"You can't sing?" my friend joked but then realized I couldn't breathe.


He tried to remember the one semester of first aid he had our junior year.


He failed miserably.


I should have died on that trail but for some reason, possibly wanting to screw with me some more, God decided it was too early to die.


That same night, I would wish for death many times, with the pain of the stings still throbbing and the cigars.


The next day, the morning sun beginning to blaze its way through the sky, I decided enough was enough.


"But we still have three days of adventure! Don't you want to hike to the lake?"


"No thanks, I don't feel like drowning!"


He agreed.


As we drove down the dirt road, our butts being made into really sore butts with the bumpiness, we heard the sound that we knew too well.




Lucky us, we were half way between camp site and main road.


A nice hike indeed, and a road trip I'll never forget.


As we walked, a rock decided to jump out and grab my friend's leg.


The leg decided to break.


I decided to leave my friend to die.


No, not really, I made it down to the main highway, and a nice lady gave me a ride to the gas station where I called some nice people, mainly a hospital and my friend's mom.


Her reply: "So did you become real men?"


My reply: "I don't think so...."


"Lucky for you, it was a clean break!" the doctor joked at the hospital.


Neither of us laughed and we promised, NO MORE ROAD TRIPS!!


But like my buddy's leg, we broke that promise too but it was ten years later and well, that cop who stopped us before, stopped us again and seriously, my friend did not get smarter as he aged.


"What's in the bag?" 




That time, we got to spend the night in jail.




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The acid hit just as we were getting into Vegas.
lefty, ~nodding~ The good road trips!! :D
That's why everyone should carry four spare tires.
Five, just to be safe! :D
Your friend was your attorney? Or were you the attorney?
Chicken Man, maybe both!! :D
one can of fix-a-flat.....twenty five feet of air hose with a self locking chuck on each end.....add F-a-F.....tap about 5 lbs air off 3 other tires.....off ya go....
takes skill to pee into a bottle
My mother always said camping out meant spending the night at Holiday Inn instead of a real hotel. Glad your friend didn't die. OK, glad you didn't die either. Mwah!
It's true I guess that god looks out for children and drunks...and those thinking they're men. Great post.
Reminds me of a trip in a Ford van with a worn out linkage in the standard transmission. We spent nearly as much time under that van fiddling with a screwdriver as we did on the road.
A savage journey to the heart of the American dream

“We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half full of cocaine, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers... and also a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of Budweiser, a pint of raw ether and two dozen amyls.
Not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get locked into a serious drug collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can.”

I had a trip like this at 17 that turned me back into a baby too!!!
Don't you think sometimes that we must look like ants to God and he's holding one big magnifying lens?
Call me the next time your going there...
Great story-telling with a touch of Tink. Just think, though. If you had taken a tent it would have flooded and you would have had a bear scratching his butt on your face! :D

Very amusing Tink. Wildly poor planning seems to be an inherent feature of adolescent road trips. In my teens mt friends and I decided to drive down to Florida for a week of spring break. We had about $50 each and for food we could live off the aged cheddar we'd brought and just pick oranges at the groves we figured would be nearby. As we couldn't afford hotels, motels or much of anything, we decided on sleeping on the beaches or just getting invited to all-night parties where the booze and food would be free. We never got to find out if this plan would have worked because our car broke down 13 miles down the road. Sheesh, it wasn't even a long distance call home.
Tink. think I mentioned this when I was in Canada.

The Tackle Fish & Bait Hunt Shop Had a Big Bin Sale.

Made from whitetail doe in their estrous cycle. Attract.
Is this your part-time money-maker business? Squirt Top.
www.tinks69.com /
The farm truck broke.
I had to clean mt P.U..
I found ` Tink's stink.
Take on daily trips.
Spray on armpits.
Spray on politicos.
I have to say vision quest road trips with blathering idiots who carry bags of baby powder packed by mommies and call them cocaine are preferable to fishing stories.

Wise of you to carry teddy bears and blankeys to ward off bears with itchy butts. The next time I have to take a women's vision quest to the mall I'm going to steal my granddaughter's teddy and blankey to ward off sales women itching to spritz us with perfume. It's a rough shopping the anchor stores so I'll take a girlfriend with a baggie of tic tacs labled speed in case we get questioned by a mall cop.

Pee pee in the bottle while driving, hahahahaha! I haven't thought of that in ages. You really should be writing TV sitcoms. God bless you.
Laughing at, not with, Abrawang... I mean with, not at

May have to write my little story too..
involved running into a mining old timey celebration
in Leadville Colorado.. called BOOM DAYS
where the girls dressed like hookers (or maybe they were)
and the guys rode horses and carried real guns
and they had no compunctions about serving
whiskey to seventeen year olds
and we camped by the creeks
and bathed in them too
and drank Sangria
and smoked shitty weed
Reminds me a bit of a true tale of 3 couples stranded on a tiny island overnight in the middle of Lake of the Woods back in 1975 or the emergency landing in a tiny Cessna trying to fly back from Beach, North Dakota to Grand Forks, North Dakota in a blizzard after an unsuccessful deer hunt in 1976.
But you're right, real men don't pee in bottles. They drink coffee and beer and whine when they feel the need to tie it in a knot to keep from wetting their pants.
Say, is that Rev Jim Jones driving the car? Don't drink the Kool-ade!
Laugh at me tr ig. Ours was such an ill-considered, ludicrously ignorant plan that we didn't realize till years later just how lucky we were that even the car balked.
If you really feel the need to pee in a bottle, go by a medical supply store and pick up a couple of portable plastic urinals. They're cheap. They have wide mouths and a handle. The top is tilted so you're a lot less likely to spill. They have lids so you can close them. And you'll be able to figure out if you really pissed a quart, because they have measurement lines.

This was actually really good.
Real men pee out the window of the car while its still moving- to avoid wasting time on bathroom breaks. Good in theory- not so much in practice...
[r] hilarious! tx tink! now about those finger paints and all that cheddar??? best, libby
Steel, where the hell were you at back then? :D

Chuck, ~nodding~ Yes it does!! :D

nile, me too!! :D

Rob, **nodding** :D

jmac, ain't those the best trips! :D

trig, ~tears~ And the other day, I broke a nail!! WAAA! :D

Oops, I mean, WE ARE MANLY MEN!! :D

Dianne, oh my yes!! ~nodding~

Algis, will do!! :D

L, OH MY!! :D

Abrawang, EEK!!! Sounds about right though!! :D

Art, that's me!! Attract the bucks!! :D

Bleue, I've tried to sell some scripts, hard to sell em!! Non-realistic!?!?! :( :D

trig, write it damn it!!!!!!!!! Sounds mucho interesting!! :)

Walter, North Dakota is just filled with excitement!! And people wetting themselves!!! :D

ccdarling, no drink the juice, it might be...JUICED!! Teehee! Sorry!! :D

Kosher, that's actually good idea too!! :D Thanks!!!!

Ian, ~nodding~ Good idea unless you're the car behind the pee!! :D
libby, finger painting and cheddar, good times!! :D
The great adventures of youth never end, my friend. They never end. I just drove 20 hours, had a nap, went to a funeral, had another nap then drove 26 hours, through a monsoon type storm to get back home! Left here Friday evening. Got back Tuesday. Slept till Thursday. Now up at 4:00 am. It's gonna be a loooong day!

But I lost 6 lbs.......

Ah, my friend, got to love those long days!! Lose weight fast!! :D