Well, I just arrived back in the general vicinity of my residence.
Here's a taste of what happened to some of us this weekend:
I had previously made arrangements for a place to crash (thanks Mud), and beings as it was Friday morning, it had become time to get ready to leave.
This meant I was not even remotely close to being ready. I needed to:
- Change the oil in my car
- Buy food
- Find my flashlight
- Clean out my car (mx gear load switched for other load)
- Get beer
- Pack sleeping bags and shit
- Figure out where the fuck the campgrounds are
- Map a route
- Check weather
- Gas up and leave
So...beings as I had worked in the welding shop all week, I was dog tired and slept in. I got up at noon. The rest of that list took a good 5 hours thanks to crap randomly disappearing on me. It also started raining lightly but steadily at about 1pm. Finally, at 5, I gave up and started hauling ass in the southerly direction.
I made good time from my place to DCUBAville, but then it really started coming down. 3 hours into my drive, I was going fucking 35mph on the interstate. It was dark, and even with my windshield wipers on full speed, I couldn't see the lines on the edge of the road. I had three or four near misses with other drivers yanking the wheel thinking they were in the wrong lane. I actually cheated and drove on the rumble strips for quite a while.
By the time I hit Princeton MN, my hands hurt from trying to hold my bitch car on the road. I think being in a slightly taller mode of transportation could've helped, beings as that would've gotten me a little bit further out of the other vehicle's spray. Since the bridge is out in Princeton, I got sent on a fucking wild backcountry detour, which added 20 minutes or more to my drive time.
Upon which I made it back on the main drag I was taking, and then got the funny sensation that I had maybe gone to far. I was damn close, but I put in a call to doublecheck my location (Cambridge). I was tired as fuck and full of heartburn from the shitty driving conditions. Instead of answering my question of "have I gone further east than the campground" I got these directions.
"It's okay, all you have to do is keep going, and then go right, straighten out again, then go down, then to the left, and straight and then down and to the right again. Then on 65, you'll head to Furman and then it'll be right on the campground."
That made no fucking sense to me, beings as I was looking for country road 12.
Above, and very shitty, directions were repeated. This really fucked with me because I was too tired and frazzled to comprehend more than three or four directions at a time.
"I'm not looking for 65. I'm looking for County road 12. It goes north and south. I am currently in Cambridge. Can you tell me if I have passed it already, or do I need to keep heading east?"
"All you have to do is go right, and then straight and then down and to your left an.."
"Not what I'm asking!!!!"
"...d then down but it jogs to the left and you.."
"You. Need. To. Stop. Talking."
I actually kinda did lose my cool for a little bit there. I had to say it about 6 times before my partner in crime actually heard me. I balled up and apologized for snapping, but in all reality I just found someone that dishes out shittier directions than Rubi (Sorry Rubi, I know you were being thorough, and that was cool).
"You are giving me too many random turns without distances or street names. They don't even remotely match the map I've got. I don't want to know where to go, I just want to make sure I'm in the right spot. Find country road 12, and tell me if it is east or west of Cambridge. Don't tell me how far, or how long, just whether it is to the east or west of cambridge."
It took a good 17-25 minutes to figure out that he was describing what the road did just as you leave Cambridge. I had even dug out my atlas and was pouring over the page but that one didn't have street names on it (at least not streets that small).
"Why the fuck didn't you just say "the road curves a few times, and then you'll be coming up on 12 shortly after that."??"
"Well, I was telling you where to go."
So...I rolled in at about 10:30pm, got all checked in, and drove in to the sight of Mud and Harry frantically trying to set up their tent in the rain. I was just glad to see those two assclowns and be off the road. I stepped inside to close the tent windows, but the floor had already developed a few gigantic- assed puddles. Turns out they hadn't gotten to the rainfly yet either.
When they had gotten halfways set up, I remembered that I had an EZ-up shade, so we threw that up so we would have a dry place to stand and wait out the rain. Then it was time to stand in the dry place and have a beer. Except I figured that standing was stupid and kinda cold, so I pulled out my camp chair, and we soon were down to the important business of waiting, drinking beer, and BSing.
I was introduced to MiniMud (Shane) and I will give this kid a thumbs up. Don't think I heard any real complaints out of him all weekend, and he was just as stoked to be camping as anything. He finally went to bed, and we stayed up till the rain stopped, put up my tent (which actually stayed mostly dry inside), and then BSed and ate cinnamon rolls, and lusted after the thoughts of scarfing down pizza until damnnear 2am.
We all got up, and dropped Mud's dragon off at Rock's campsite. Then we hit up breakfast.
Well there was a slight delay since my dumbass forgot to lock my car, and we had to drive around the campsite loop once. Then Harry had his phone find us some breakfast. Then somehow Mud's TomTom thing was telling us shit that made Mud get all pissy and turn it off before we arrived at the original breakfast place. This wasn't really a big deal, since about a minute and a half later, there was a big bold sign that said "CAFE."
It sucked us in like a magnet. Hallelujah for biscuits and gravy!
Thoroughly fortified, we pulled out and started the 10 mile drive to haydays. Maybe an hour later, we'd made it about a mile? I mean, shit. We weren't getting any-fucking-where. Then word came in that Rock pussed out and was back at the campgrounds. We pushed on (maybe we should've actually pushed 'em into the ditch and out of our way).
Then lo'an'behold, there sat a 2000-1 ZR600 on the side of the road for 800 bucks. So we hopped out and looked that over some, and I started getting kinda stoked, since it had low miles and was in my price range. I stuck the number in my phone, then as Murphy's law would have it, traffic moved enough that Harry and I had to make a dash back for the road. We ended up hopping in with Greasemonkey's (I think...kept getting you and Wallygator mixed up) ride. Then traffic slowed enough for us to make it back up to Mud's vehicle.
When I went to call the number I had tucked in my phone, I couldn't find it. I'm not sure if I hit the wrong buttons or if I just shut the phone before the number was finished 'saving'. Either way, I took a shitload of crap over losing the number, but it was too far to run back and get it again. I tried dialing the number that I remembered, but none of 'em went through.
After about three hours, we finally parked in some farmer's field, and started walking. We were 3 miles away from the Haydays entrance. It was fucking crazy. Parking and traffic was that fucked. Greasemonkey appeared again, with connections to Riley, and we hopped another ride. That took a while, but we finally fucking made it. 10 miles in 3 hours.
First on the list was food (cheese curds) and water. Those cheese curds were the best I've ever tasted. We lost Mud and MiniMud, and then Harry disappeared for a bit. And I will say that one of the funnier sights is Harry standing alone in a crowd, looking very obviously lost. I gave up waving at him, because the majority of the crowd was tall enough that my hand was not visible.
Then we started towards the swap meet area, I had a couple missions in mind.
1 - the right sled
2 - pipe for the 250
3 - parts for the 250
We found some sleds, but none that really felt like they were saying "Wolfie, buy me dammit!!" Well, I guess there were a few sleds that did say that, except I didn't have nearly enough jing saved up for 'em.
There were a shit ton of sleds, and MiniMud sat on probably 3/4 of the sleds at haydays. That was fairly impressive for him being 7 years old. He also kept up way better than I did. I found a cheapassed goretex shell jacket, so I picked that up. And a few isles later, I found a stand for the 250, so I picked that up too.
Harry found a piece (recoil?) for his braaper, and some saddlebags. Mud and MiniMud kinda came and went, beings as I got distracted by sleds a lot, as did Harry, whereas Mud made better time. I learned in the meantime, that the stand I had bought made a really convenient place to sit whenever there was a spare moment. I was glad to carry it the rest of the day. We even found a Mud-sized chair. It actually made him look normal sized.
(Tag spot for picture)
Those cheese curds from earlier kicked my ass...
By the time we had made it through the swap, we were pretty hungry and hit up the burrito place, which was damn delicious. I do have to say that this year's haydays had a WAY better food selection than last year's place. I can't remember half the shit, but it was easily four or five times as many different food joints as last year if not more.
When we went to watch a few drags, it turns out that we had kinda missed most if not all of the shows. That was kindof a bummer, but we had made a thorough search of the swap area, and I felt satisfied with that work well done.
We hit up the Klim tent, and I found a nice jacket in XS, but my arms were too long for the sleeves, so I left it there. Mud picked up a nice jacket, and after he'd acquired the bag, he was cool enough to carry my jacket for me too. Thanks again Mud.
Then it was time to hit up the Polaris area, and I was actually feeling kinda comfortable on the Polaris Rush. I'm not sure if it's the upright feeling, or the seat height, but it felt "right" so I'll have to try get a ride in on one of those things sometime. It still looks weird, but I think I could get over that if it was as responsive as they say it is supposed to be. Or maybe it's just the "dirtbike" feeling it had when I threw a leg over. (Here come the haters).