'twas fun. Not much shooting of the guns on my part, because I didn't really feel like it.
The first night was fun for awhile, then everyone got really drunk and insisted on coming into my car and hanging out, spilling beer and bongwater everywhere, so I started locking it. Oddly, Abe and I were the sober ones, and we locked everyone else out and knocked back a few until bed time. I slept in my car by my lonesom. Good fun.
Day #2 was a tad different, it started with me driving my car to the resevoir so we could go swimming, I doved head first into the freezing cold water, just about died from shock, and pulled myself up on the dock. Caleb jumped in and was stuck because he couldn't pull himself up, and some idiots were hogging the boat ramp because they couldn't get the boat onto their trailor...That's when karma came into play, the kid jumped over the dock, caught his foot, and landed head first into 1 foot of water. We couldn't help ourselves but laugh.
On the way back, we saw some horses, cute ones, I said to Abe "that blonde one is cute" apparently the horse had a rather (fittingly) horse-sized erection. Abe and I neglected to check out the aforementioned horse package.
We returned to camp, and filled my car up with people smoking pot and drinking, which was fun. We told (true, or so we said) ghost stories to scare eachother. Then the horse erection was brought up again, and Noel mentioned another story involving a "horse boner", so now her new nickname is, fittingly enough "Horseboner". Things got a little out of control again, and I ended up sober for the most part sleeping in my car.
Woke up this morning got packed and headed out. On the way home we realized "fuck, man, 97 is going to be PACKED". So we took the 20 (we planned on going to Eugene) and we got kind of stuck on the Santiam pass, I asked my navigator what the next big town was, to which he told me was "Sweet Home". I was like "me finally going through Sweet Home would be a tad ironic"...
But then I was like "playa, please! the 22 will take us past Detroit Lake and right to Salem, sparing us hours of unwanted crap-driving!".
So I drove down past Detroit Lake, and my bitch assed friends were all "we have to pee, pull over there!". Being the good friend that I am, I obliged. But wait! This is a logging road with a sign that says "next turnaround 20 miles". So I kicked it in reverse, and got my bumper stuck on a metal pole. Finally, we freed ourselves, leaving little but a few small scratches on my quarter pannel, which was dented to hell in the first place.
And it's for situations like this that I go on.