BAH3 Camping Trip

We arrive at noon and I immediately partake in the ice luge. Limoncella, yum!

As Spelunker and I have already put in considerable mileage today on our training runs, we pass on the likely 6-mile trail laid by Fossil, Grand Mattress, and AnyC*ck. Instead, we hang out by the kiddie pool and relax in the shade. 3 hours go by until the trail runners finally return.

Now at some point during the interlude by the kiddie pool, Bob LoBlaw states that Spelunker should have a beer mile handicap. His suggestion for a handicap? Edward 40-hands.

Spelunker enthusiastically accepts the challenge and I am a reluctant witness to the taping of hands. Fortunately, I am not witness to his puke after drinking the 1st 40. Spelunker claims it's because it was a warm Natty Bo. Regardless, he's been prepping his system for the keg wars at InterAm.

Bobbin leads a lengthy circle where I get violated numerous times for wearing a kilt, being TRASH, and wearing BAH3 stickers as pasties. And perhaps I should be disturbed (but I'm not!), following Film's departure from sitting on the ice block both 3 Holer and Spelunker dive bomb the ice block and lick the ice where she was sitting.

And I forgot to mention! Schmegg is in attendance too. He's his typical naked self. He spent the afternoon playing with power tools - drilling holes in watermelons (to pour liquor into), creating beer taps, you name it - he is the handyman to have around. After the performance by 3 Holer and Spelunker he straddles the ice block and does some kind of body slide activity. We're all a bit disturbed, but I'm even more disturbed when Spelunker decides to get in on the action. WTF???

Then dinner is served - chicken and waffles. I'm perplexed, but apparently, it is a southern tradition. Well, I've never tried maple syrup on chicken tenders before, but it isn't bad.

And the piece de resistance of the evening: beer mile

Beer mile wasn't originally supposed to start right after dinner, but that's how it ended up. Spelunker won (7:32), mass pukings abounded, and Pay Per View took cheating to a new level with her diagonal interpretation of the course.

To be expected, Spelunker was in no condition to enjoy the rest of the evening and I forgot to bring attire for the pimp theme, so I was merely an observer for the remaining festivities.

I did enjoy the aluminum foil schlong that Tour duh Whore strapped to his naked self. Pissonya had the best looking outfit (but more high class than most would probably attribute the profession). The blow-up dolls, sheep, and their orifices were just hysterical.

I popped back out after putting Spelunker to bed to discover that 3 Trick was encouraging all the ladies to drink shots out of her husband's (Pony Boy) belly button. Then Schmegg was called in to perform clean up. Not sure why this was such a popular activity.

Finally, the conclusion of the evening was punctuated by the naked run at 11:30pm (I guess they couldn't wait the extra 1/2 hour.