"Again?" you ask? "So soon?" you say? That's right, shitnuts. I'm officially off of my ass. This installment of the Redwood Run Chronicles is being brought to you by...whiskey and soda! So, sit tight on your sofas and toilet seats, and prepare for the debacle.
Day two. We departed the campsite, our crew in full force. Today's destination, Fort Bragg! We hit the road and quickly went from warm-ish weather to straight up HOT weather. What the hell..backroads and turns, hills and curves. The ride was VERY awesome aside from the rising temperature.
The crew and I made a pit stop at the Anderson Valley Brewing Co. in Boonville CA. From the start of the trip, Dirty Dan had been plagued by shifter issues, the damn splined shaft had stripped letting his shifter rock back and forth almost at will. Yes, it's hard to find gears like that. Anyhow, maintenance staff at the brewery were kind enough to break out the mig for us and get Danny back to shifting properly. Meanwhile, inside the brewery, some of the crew had a few beers while myself and a couple others hung out by the parking lot, soaking up the SHADE! We kicked back for a while and decided on burgers at a local drive in, ate em up quickly and got back on the road. Next stop, Fort Bragg.
We headed down the road, braving the heat, cursing the sun. Then, like a true godsend, we reached the pines. The climate change went from 'dang it, my balls are sticky', to 'holy shit, maybe I should've worn a sweater'. A welcomed change and not a minute too soon. The road stretched on for days, winding through trees as tall as you've ever seen, like a black river cutting through the forest. We executed a plethora of different turns, uphill, downhill, you name it-we did it. Awesome.
The forest soon opened up and we were on the coast, close to our day's destination. Now...I've seen the ocean a number of times..never like this. Highway 1 offers (in my opinion), one of the best views you could imagine. Ocean as far as you could see, cliffs with waves crashing against them..I mean fuck..you could see the horizon, the goddamn curvature of the EARTH. It was beautiful, everything about it.
After maybe another twenty minutes of glorious coastal riding, we reached Fort Bragg and stopped in at some local brewery that offered the finest of ales and craft beers that I don't give two shits about. Whatever, bro. Some of drank in the brewery, some of us drank in the parking lot. We ended our liquid snack time and boarded the choppers. Let's head to camp!
A few miles up the road led us to the Kjeldsen's, a 40 acre plot that housed 4 separate families that all shared the same last name. Pretty rad. Long time friends of our own Patrice LaMoomba, and relatives of the Great Wizard, Mr. Dave Kafton. The Kjeldsen family quickly made us at home offering up any corner of their beautiful property for us to lay our sleeping bags. This place was fuckin AWESOME. From thick, wooded areas, to wide open prairies, perfect weather ranging from the low to mid 60's. There was a volleyball/basketball court, a zipline, a barn full of cool old shit including an old wooden bowling lane. Bad. Ass.
So, I can't lie..there was a fungus among us, along with gardening and liquor. We did it up proper and what a perfect setting to get properly FUCKED UP. The Kjeldsen's took great care in making us comfortable, ordering and picking up a shit ton of pizza. They also introduced us to a variety of Viking games, one of which Papa and I cleverly named 'Stick'. The object of the game is to throw certain logs at other certain logs. There are rules and all that good shit, they didn't really matter, especially when George and Aaron were laying waste to any duo that challenged them. Bastards.
The night went extremely well for most us while others, namely Richie, had a bit harder of a time. He fell. A lot. And often. Like.....if you could fall off of it, down it, or over it, he did that. Now...let me explain..when someone falls, it's funny. Period. This is where I feel a bit bad, Richie isn't the youngest of bucks in our group. The fact of the matter is, the older you get, the more shit hurts when you fall. So, since he wasn't seriously injured during any of his MANY tumbles, it was ok to laugh my ass off. And I did.
We partied into the wee hours, waged war on our livers, and beat the shit out of our brain cells. The Kjeldsen family took great care of us, even letting us stay indoors on any vacant bed of our choosing. Thanks fellas, you guys are awesome. I personally would love to head back to Fort Bragg, next year!
Day two down. Sleep: engage! Day three is coming right up, who knows what's in store......stay tuned to the MOTO and find out what's next!
•End transmission•
No comments:
Post a Comment