Last weekend, some friends were camping up in the Lagunas. We stopped by towards the end of the day, to raid their coolers. It was rather obvious that happy hour was in full swing.
In the middle of their campsite was a fallen tree, Probably 4 feet in diameter. Bumpy, and sorta hollowed out/mangled on one end. Hmmm..... I think with a bit of work though, I can work wiff this. Grabbing some firewood we began filling in the hollowed out portion of the log. We also used Dura flame logs, bags of charcoal , rocks, and anything else in the campsite that wasn't tied down.
Lot's of ad hoc engineering went into this project. Mie Mie orchestrates the construction.
The trailing edge, where the stump was, took some creative wood working, which included this custom mitered bridge piece.
Nearing completion, Jack gives it a dry run. The crowd was getting drunker and surlier by the minute. The anticipation was building... it was clear that they wanted to see some blood.
And...ACTION!!! I took a couple of deep breaths and pedaled in. The tricky part was negotiating that narrow nub, midway through the run.
Piece of cake! Although stoked (and drunk), I could sense that this motley crew was a bit disappointed that there wasn't any carnage.
Al also successfully pulled it off, with style points for wheelying off the end!
Then, upping the ante... we decided to try it ifrom the other direction. The tranny up onto the log in this direction was substantially sketchier, as Al would find out.
Al, displayed some cat-like moves on his dismounts.
My turn. I flashed it first try.
So, thats it. Pretty anti-climatic. The crowd, although amused, and even more buzzed, was visably disappointed that there wasn't any blood spillage.
Blood thirsty savages.
But wait...I had one more trick up my sleeve. I spied a bag of grapes on the picnic table. Everyone was given a grape. The plan would be... once I get up onto the log and halfway across, over the death nub...they could fire at will.
The rules were simple. Right?
No firing at my head and you must wait until I cross over the death nub, midway through. Ka-Peeesh?
I back up, and nervously eye the run in. Clip in, and I'm off. Up onto the tranny ...I stall! And, I hear a bullet go whizzing past my head!! What the Hell?!!!
Who prematurely fired? I thought we had an understanding? I totally lost it and ripped into the crowd.
I demanded to know who had the audacity to commit this cowardly and dastardly act.
The culprit turned out to be the 8 year old kid (in the red hooded sweatshirt). I laid my bike down and walked over to the little guy and gave him a stern tongue lashing. "I thought we had an agreement. I'm going to give you another grape, but don't pull that stunt again, or there will be hell to pay! You got it, little guy?"
Sheepishly, he nodded yes. But, I was distrustful.
So, I backed it up for my second run. Focused. I took 3 deep breaths and then blasted off. Up onto the tranny, then pedaling across the log, I reach the midway death nub, and...
A hail of bullets let loose. It was like that scene at the end of "Bonnie and Clyde" where the cops unload their machine guns. I took some serious hits with this barrage, but somehow managed to stay upright and ride it out.
"The Grapes of Wrath".
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Thread: The Grapes of Wrath