Sadly I do not have any lost-my-shoes, got-kicked-out-of-the-bar, falling-down-drunk stories to report from the Truckee weekend. That said, we still had a blast celebrating Dave’s 34th birthday.<\/p>\n
Me, Dave, and Kev got to the cabin around 8:00 on Friday night. We fired up the coals, busted out the rum and beer, and had a great dinner of ribeye steaks with all the fixin’s.<\/p>\n
We sat around and watched the sun go down. After dinner we drove out to Boomtown to play some craps. $100 later and I’m done. I set my limit and had to stick to it. But boy oh boy, was that ATM card burning a hole in my pocket.<\/p>\n
Saturday morning we woke up around 9. Breakfast, showers, and then we were off for the golf course.<\/p>\n
Ponderosa is a fun little 9 hole course. Mostly par 4s, a couple par 3s, and one par 5. I played sporadically as usual. I had 6 pars and the rest were, uh, not so good. Except for the 4th hole.<\/p>\n
The 4th hole is about 350 yards. I hit my driver about 280 off the tee, straight and right down the middle of the fairway. We rode up to my ball and I whipped out my pitching wedge. I lined up my shot and swung. Oh crap, I thought, I hit it too hard.<\/p>\n
Dave said, “Oh shit! It’s headed right for the pin!”<\/p>\n
“Naw, I hit it too hard, it’s over the green, Dave,” I tell him.<\/p>\n
“No it’s not, that’s pin-seekin’!”<\/p>\n
I watch the ball get closer and closer to the flag. I hear a little “tink” sound as the ball just barely knicks the flag and then plops right down into the hole. Eagle. I drop my club and run around the fairway, screaming, and prancing around the golf course in celebration. My first eagle. I had to call my dad immediately and tell him the news. By the way, thanks for the round of golf, dad!<\/p>\n
After golf the three of us went over to the Bar of America for some happy hour cocktails and appetizers. That ended up being happy hour’S’. I’m not sure how long we were there, as time starts to mash all together when you’re drunk. But whatever. It ended up being several hours of boozin’ at the B of A.<\/p>\n
Once back at the cabin we BBQ’ed some chicken and had some more cocktails. After showers we drove out to Crystal Bay (North Shore Lake Tahoe) for some more craps. $100 later and I’m at my limit again, and I’m done gambling. Dammit. I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later. I’m down $200 for the trip and I’m not gambling another dime. But I wanted to, soooooo badly… Dave and Kev did about the same as me. The craps tables were not good to us this trip.<\/p>\n
Back in Truckee we found ourselves at the Bar of America yet again. It was close to midnight and the band was getting ready to play another set. I think their name was “Tapwater” or something like that. I remember them playing some Santana and some Steve Miller Band tunes. In fact, I think they just played covers. But, whatever. I was drunk and the details are fuzzy.<\/p>\n
The three of us stayed at B of A for what seemed like too long. Finally we left and walked down the street to another little hole-in-the-wall bar. I can’t think of the name of it, but I do remember that it was a total dive bar. Dirty, scummy, and cheap. Another band was playing. The bar was filled with (much) younger patrons. We talked to some girls, and then talked to some more.<\/p>\n
I look over and Dave has a pint of beer in each hand. I know he’s close. He’s almost done. Hell, I’m drunk too. Next thing I remember, Dave’s pint glasses are empty and he’s walking towards the door.<\/p>\n
“Come on, we’re goin’.”<\/p>\n
Uh, OK. Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. I’m too drunk and tired to be out and about. Dave’s swaying on the way out the door. Yeah, we should really go.<\/p>\n
Back at the cabin we had a few more drinks and sat around, relaxing. It was close to 2am and I just couldn’t hang any more. I went to bed and fell asleep immediately. Which is amazing, because that never happens to me–I always toss and turn for at least an hour before drifting off to sleep. I guess all the booze and golf and partying finally caught up to me.<\/p>\n
Now it’s Sunday morning and we have to go home.<\/p>\n
I hate leaving that cabin. On the day I have to leave I wake up feeling sad. I trudge around the place, cleaning and picking up and packing. I just do NOT want to leave at all. I love that cabin. I sleep well, I’m comfortable, I eat well, and I always have a great time. Dave once said that he sleeps better at the cabin than he does at home. I can relate.<\/p>\n
So we stopped at Hooters in Sac on the way home. It was a nice way to break up the trip. It was very hot the whole way down the mountain and I was very thirsty. I had a few beers with our mountain of wings, and then we were on the road again. 100+ degrees all the way back to Hayward. I think I drank at least a gallon of water on the drive home.<\/p>\n
Got home around 5pm and spent the rest of the evening moping around the house, wishing I was back at the cabin. Bah.<\/p>\n