I know what you're thinking...what the fuck is fatty talking about? Is he drunk?
I'm talking about Cape Disappointment redux. Part 2. The encore. And, for the record...no, I am not drunk. This is my first beer. So eff off!
Since Jess and I had such a great time at Disappointment in October (see Road Trip With 2 Bitches, parts 1-3), we decided we'd go back in late march. It started off as a trip for the members of Jess's wedding party to meet and greet in a sea of booze and fire, but it didn't work out that way. Jim couldn't come, and neither could Jamie's bridesmaid. So it ended up being me, Jess, Jamie, her maid of honour Melissa, and their friend Janet. We could only get 1 yurt, so Jess and I gave it to the ladies and decided we'd tent camp at the next site. Good idea, right? $%&!!
Jess and I were taking his mom's Rav 4, and the girls drove down in Janet's car. We were goin on easter weekend and knew the border would be crazy busy, so we got off to an early start. Jess and I were up at 5:45 and at the border by 6:30...and there was already a monster lineup. I (brilliantly) decided we should go thru the duty-free, which meant we could skip a ton of the line. After a beer purchase we head back to the car, eager to get on the way.
Yea, right.
In the 10 minutes we were inside the store, the parking lot completely filled up. We couldn't move at all for 20 minutes...when we finally did, we were slotted into a lane (1 of 7) so traffic could be streamed back into the line more efficiently. We sat there for well over an hour, losing our minds from boredom, till we finally made it back into the line. Another 40 minutes or so, and we finally crossed the border. Total time? 2 hours, 20 minutes. Yes, that sucked! But...
The silver lining of all this? The girls decided the border wouldn't be that bad, and left a little bit after us. They arrived at the border about 45 minutes after we did...didn't do the duty-free thing....guess how long they were there.
GUESS!
2 hours? They wish. 3? Pishaw! 4? That's how long it took just to get TO the duty-free! If you guess 5.5 hours, you would be correct!
I believe the correct description of this is....AAAAHAHAHAHAHA! Men = resourceful and smart! Women, not so much!
Jess and I stopped for money (where Jess left his bankcard in the machine and walked away...there goes the smart man statement), and Jack In The Box for food. Jess had forgotten to load music onto a flash drive to listen to in the car, so he busted out his laptop in the JITB for a while to complete this task. The locals thought he had palsy or somethin, but...let's face it, he probably does.
Next stop, native liquor and walmart. Miller Lite! Jager! I should point out that I had misplaced my tent and camping gear, and had to purchase new stuff at walmart. Cheapest tent I'd fit in? Check. Shitty 6 dollar sleeping mat instead of air mattress? Check. Camping chair that can hold 225lbs? Che...wait a minute. Other camping chair that can hold 300lbs for 2 more dollars? Muthafuckin check!
After laying waste to the Walmart bathroom and noticing that this walmart was the epicenter of fat people in the state of Washington (I was svelte here!), we headed on our way. Upon leaving the I5, we were welcomed by some of the ugliest towns known to man, and a whole lotta clear-cut forests. Not the prettiest drive. But it was worth it, cuz around 4pm we arrived back in our adopted hood! Ilwaco! Long Beach! Cape Disappointment! Malt Liquor Energy Drinks, Bitch!
We set up our stuff, and went to call the ladies to see where they were. Quelle surprise! They were nowhere near the place yet. Jess and I played on the beach for a bit and chilled till the ladies finally arrived, long after dark. Fire was brought to life by the resident girl scout, and the ladies passed out fairly early after their exhausting day. Jess and I? Not so much. We decided to to go to the beach in the dark. Drunk. Big mistake. Jess swore up and down the strange cloud formation we saw in the sky was the northern lights, somehow. I kept telling him he was retarded, but he started into some nerdspeak lecture that almost convinced me. After 20 minutes he realized...it was a cloud. Just a cloud. Dumbest smart guy I know. Go malt liquor!
On our way back to the campsite, we...got lost. We couldn't find our path back into the park. We found an abandoned boat, and lotsa wood and grass...but no path. At first it was funny, but after 3 or 4 laps up and down the beach, it got a little weird. Eventually we just walked through the bushes, and emerged in the park...somewhere. After consulting park maps, finding nice showers, and laughing uncontrollably, we finally found our way back, eager to tell the girls of our idiotic adventure. But they were asleep. Denied.
People, never EVER let Jess mix drinks for you. He makes the worst jager bombs known to man. When the bomb's still brown AFTER you add the red bull, you fucked up! We both got totally smashed pretty quickly, and discussed everything from drugs to murders to family/friend criminal histories to animal abuse. We found it funny. The family 2 sites over, with their kid's tents totally within earshot...not so much. Those kids are scarred now. Oh, and Jess decided eating hot dogs right off the metal cooking pole was a great idea, and burned his lip. I laughed so hard I coughed on my keystone light. We stayed up drinking super late, and eventually passed the fuck out.
So far? Nature has been our friend. The deer Jess went berserk on during the first trip were out and about. Our raccoon friends were still around, but kept a low profile for the first night. The weather was good, if a bit cold. Everything this was too good to be true. And you know what that means!
Saturday started off nicely enough. Cold but dry weather meant a trip to the beach with the ladies. Jamie proved she's from the interior by asking such deep philosophical questions such as "What are shellfish?" and trying to dig for clams with a stick. You don't believe me? Here, see for yourself:
After the girls wrote their names in the sand and amused themselves for awhile, it was jetty time. Waves ate them, but not nearly as bad as the last time we were there. Nonetheless, they were amused (and wet). Next up, it was onto Long Beach for food and entertainment. Upon arrival, the girls wanted to pose with the same animal statues that we posed on the first time we came down here. There was a big sign that said "No climbing on animals", but the village idiot cleared that up for us pretty quick. Some kids on their bikes rode up, and palsy-boy said:
"Don't worry, the police station is across the street (points awkwardly across the street; almost falls off his bike), but (long pause), 98% of the time they don't care what happens. I know, cuz I've lived here for (counts on his fingers, another long pause)...11 years! Or 13. No, 11! Yea! Umm...bye!"
Welcome to small town America.
Next up was the awesomest museum ever. If you read the blog about the first trip, we were mesmerized by an execution machine. Insert a quarter, watch someone get...well, executed. Here, see for yourself:
How fucking cool is that?
There's no way we could top that, so it was lunchtime...and, true to form, Long Beach offered more hilarity. This was the sign on the door of the restaurant:
Does this even require a witty comment?
After grabbing some firewood, we headed back to camp. The raccoons were out in full force for the rest of the day/night. Jess gave them some baileys, but not very much (this becomes important later). Jess the f'n nerd did some homework, while the rest of us putzed about and did some drinking. Nightfall arrived. I had left a family-sized bag of doritos on the ledge of the yurt, and a fucking raccoon fucking shanghai'd it! No offence, people of chinese descent. Anyways, the little bastard took the bag under the yurt and ate the whole god damn thing. PIG. We fed them various stuff, and eventually gave them names. Steve was the broken-eyed dorito stealer. There was also Bruno, Cyril Sneer, and a host of others unworthy of names.
Everyone else passed out early, except me. Steve decided he was gonna steal diet cokes from the case next to me, which was fairly amusing...till be bit a hole in the side of one. He jumped about 3 feet in the air, screeched, and fucking took off. I laughed so hard my stomach hurt, and no one was there to share it with me. Too bad that little fucker got me back the next night.
Around 1am, the weather got much colder, and a light rain started to fall. I'm not sure what I did to deserve the impending destruction....laughing at raccoons? Leaving beer cans all over the place? Busting out the 6-years-past Bow Wow jokes on Jamie? Anyways, no matter what I did...I'll never forget what mother nature had in store for me that night. Nor will I ever forget how much fucking proverbial lemonade Jess and I made outta lemons in the aftermath.
Ya wanna read about it? Come back in a day or two (or 11), and it'll be here. Same fat-time, same fat-channel. Or blog. Or whatever.
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