So, I don't post too much on here about the debauchery that occurs up here in the mountains. Last Sat night was a prime example of the fun and craziness that I get into. We went to a funeral for our friend's dog, Igor. It was a balmy 20 degrees and the roads finally melted off enough to take the Harley out, so the man packed the loaded shotgun into one saddlebag, and a box of wine in the other, and we rode out a couple of miles to our friends' land where they were sending their dog off to the stars in a pyre. There was much drinking and celebrating the life of Igor the dog, and an 8 round salute (one of which I got to shoot) with the shotgun.
Later in the evening the man decided that we needed fresh deer meat to roast, so I drove my friend's boss' giant truck up to the house and brought back a quarter of a deer that John hunted last week. I was very proud of myself for driving a giant stick shift, 4-wheel drive truck (drunk none the less), and making it back alive with the meat. We roasted the meat on sticks over another fire and ate fresh, dripping venison in honor of Igor the dog. It was fucking beautiful out, there are so many stars here and the moon was close to full, so there was plenty of light.
Then one of the uninvited guests started to get rowdy, and the men had to beat/escort him off the land, before calling the sheriff who had to drive a half hour from Saguache. The delinquent was cuffed and taken to Alamosa to detox. Ah, just another night in the mountains, luckily no one got killed for trespassing (which is a completely legal ramification for being a stupid fucking drunk on someone else's property).
Riding the Harley home I kind of thought that my hands and/or face might freeze off, but luckily I didn't get frostbite. I'm glad it's almost spring so that we can ride the bike more and be less frozen!
Later in the evening the man decided that we needed fresh deer meat to roast, so I drove my friend's boss' giant truck up to the house and brought back a quarter of a deer that John hunted last week. I was very proud of myself for driving a giant stick shift, 4-wheel drive truck (drunk none the less), and making it back alive with the meat. We roasted the meat on sticks over another fire and ate fresh, dripping venison in honor of Igor the dog. It was fucking beautiful out, there are so many stars here and the moon was close to full, so there was plenty of light.
Then one of the uninvited guests started to get rowdy, and the men had to beat/escort him off the land, before calling the sheriff who had to drive a half hour from Saguache. The delinquent was cuffed and taken to Alamosa to detox. Ah, just another night in the mountains, luckily no one got killed for trespassing (which is a completely legal ramification for being a stupid fucking drunk on someone else's property).
Riding the Harley home I kind of thought that my hands and/or face might freeze off, but luckily I didn't get frostbite. I'm glad it's almost spring so that we can ride the bike more and be less frozen!