Wow, talk about your schadenfreude hangovers. I should be ashamed of myself, but I’m not. I still remember 1996-2004. Cut a brother some slack.

It is time for the Cheaha Trip, which is well chronicled in these annals. That means time to transition to a different hangover this weekend. Not like that silly! I mean a hangover from being with friends, huddled strong around a gigantic fire, telling whoppers and recounting 20+ years of mishaps and incidents like:

“Remember when Bird sliced his leg with the axe? That was so funny!”

“Or when Mystery broke his collarbone and slept sitting up in the truck all night before going to the hospital?”

“Remember when it snowed on us in Pisgah and we stayed up all night so as not to freeze to death?”

“Drive slow through Warner Robbins.”

“Let’s try this shortcut back to camp.”

Ah hell. We are getting old, and our songs are tired, but we’re still funny.

See you in the mountains.


5 Responses to Cheaha

  1. We’ll be on a parallel camping trip and it saddens me to miss the Cheaha. There is a wrench placed next to my compass, plainly visible. It’s ok.
    Have fun.