dunes 200666
· 9 August 2006 ·

what a strange trip that was! the madness that ensued from those dunes is unparalleled to date. The sands were hot and beautiful and spirits were high from the get go. 3 cars racing towards the goal all full of giggling guys gorging on lack of sleep. The arrival was incredible and Wyatt’s techno pumped us all up. The wonderfully cool breeze swept us across the great sand moutains and we rolled right into that persian den of sin. Evan’s beltbuckles, the throat dogs and the rampant other substances got used quickly and after trekking out to a measly river we return against the whipping winds to the camp and the boys all passed out for a quick nap which went well past sunset. But upon awakening the beer was annihilated and the meat dripped on sticks. A moonlit walk that dispersed the friends quickly back to the tents for more oysters and sleep was incredibly smooth.

The next morning we waved at a man in the sunny sky and watched bi-planes pass on by. the waking and baking led to munching and crunching which of course led to men rubbing lotion on the skin and then promptly putting it back in the basket. Quite a large number of us dropped the lil tab’s o fun, red pills, and drank some shots o rum. The beach mission was strange as the chilly fog and powerful wind blasted in and the random beach finds of a “jap hat” and the bouy shaker left us all staggering into the gray oblivion. Trying to make our way out of the whipping sands, we try to take the high road, which is full of FUCKING sharp needle grass and spiked cactus foliage. AGH!

eventually the psychideliacircus led to a halt in the wood for a disgusting ‘’meat party” full of greens, knives and spiky meat tube vaginas. oh god it’s raunchy.

as the drugs begin to wear thin we jump dune cliffs and return to camp, or the bermuda triangle. as we came back a strange mixture of too many people on different levels of intoxication and fatigue led to a horrible chain of events: zach throwing blunt objects at the sleepy wizard tent, Wyatt’s eye being punched swollen in a angry scuffle with Evan, the cold fog dripping on us and the fire going out.

later, under a physical and mental fog,all those who had awakend puff the opiates and wander off into the misty moonlight only to return cold and sandy.

the next morning we decide to leave the coldness and just return home. but no sooner do we start packing than the sun burns through, the sad spirits become lifted and we make the lighter walk back to the cars and make a break for a sunny 101 drive.

ripping off the side of “big creek road” we all indulge in our redneck sides as we trash a gravel cul de sac with drunken tomfoolery and puffs ahoy. feeling better and boozier we drive on into the coastal mist.

slowly the 3 car pack begin to lose each other. First Wyatt’s car breaks off and heads back to B-ham and now it’s Zach and Nate piloting the crew. finally we arrive at my house in Portland after some tripped out mexican food. my ill planning has left me stuck in Portland but my great friends save my but through and through and front me some cash to make it back to Anacortes. i barely made it and so i must thank you guys a thousand times. with beer.

all in all; the dunes trip seemed jaded but when we really think about it, we all had the quintessential time; lots of drugs and drinking, lack of water, campfire jams, madness on the beach, karate battles, rolling and jumping off dunes and a big ol moon of goodness. Best of all, NO ROTTEN GIRLS ALLOWED!

thanks for making it a memorable one guys. cheers!

Written by Patrick Holahan

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