Summer Time Booze

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It’s hot.

It’s that kind of heat that makes you slow down and feel the weight of your bones. The silent humming of sweat drones out of your pores and a dull pain overtakes thoughts you normally have.

It’s the vacation season.

All of your “I live where you vacation!” bumper stickers are slaps in the face right now. Loud motorcycles piloted by hellions, dentists, evangelicals and morons blast by you in a hideous roar that only those assholes can achieve – at least most of them wear tiny helmets so their brains won’t be saved for some distant future donation. The trailheads are packed with vehicles and the trails turn dusty to hide themselves. The river has a full blown raft and beer can hatch that will last till September. The big fish lie deep and the little guys take the prime lies. Driving through Truckee causes my blood pressure to spike so fiercely I avoid it all together. Giant land whales with names like “Vortex” and “Cougar” hog up the highway for miles, and seem oblivious to this fact.

Solitude and quiet places are at a premium during these summer months. If the desert wasn’t such a visage of Hell this time of year I’d go east – but it offers little in the way of distraction during the summer. No hunting, weeded out fishing holes, and snakes galore for my dog to play with.

My mind drifts to frosty mornings and empty roads. Snowy peaks and busting birds. Waking up with frozen water bottles 200 miles from home. Standing in a frigid river during a downpour and swinging for those over-romanticized heathens returning home from the ocean. Solitude in the unthinkable breaching of wilderness in less than perfect weather.

You know, the good stuff.

So I tend to hide indoors most of July and August. Work, beer, sleep. I will sneak away to some high lonely spots, but mostly I’d rather work all of the time and stack cash to go play when everybody else returns to work, football, and school.

I do have some plans to get out and share with you in the next couple of months, but they’ll be few and far between.

I hope you’re more productive and positive during this trying time of good weather and the outdoors filled with fair weather sports. I’m trying to make the most of it.

I’m trying.

 

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10 responses to “Summer Time Booze

  1. I’ve been slamming OT for the same reasons, not much else to do. Come late August its scouting time for elk, but other than that, I’ll be working. Now come Sept.-Jan. its on like donkey kong this year….load up the hounds and hit the hwy.

  2. Precious critique of noisemocycles and their cretin operators! As a school teacher who hunts, summers “off” are vexed, for both me and Angus. Thanks for keeping it real: I’m trying to make the most of it, too.

    • “Loud pipes save lives!” is one of my favorite idiotic arguments for loud motorcycles. If that were true all of my road cycling brethren would be dead by now. I do like motorcycles, just ones that aren’t obnoxiously and obscenely loud.

      • As a bagpiper, at first I read the “loud pipes” thing as an endorsement of my instrument of choice, one I’ll use from now on just for that purpose. As a road cyclist, I’ve had far more vehicle-bike incidents with Harley-type riders than 4-wheeled kinds. And as a dual-sport rider, I just don’t get the willful stupidity of having a machine ostensibly about power with a strength-to-weight ratio inferior to a KLR thumper. Yeah. Didn’t mean to belabor this thing. It’s summer. Can’t help it.

  3. General Wyoming. Its just about the only benefit to living in the YEEHAW COWBOY state. Im super stoked for archery season.

      • Sweet, I’ve heard NV big game is a pain in the arse since you have to draw everything even as a resident. So with that depredation tag, is that a “hey these things are eating my crops, come shoot them” tag? If so, that would awesome to fill the freezer (main reason Im big game hunting this year).

  4. I hear you on this one man. Bristol Bay Alaska is horrible. Fishing lodges every half mile of river crammed full of bead drifting guides and clients, countless Asian tourists each one with a larger camera hanging around there neck than the last, and drunk commercial fishermen and canary workers wondering the streets just looking for trouble. I dream of late September ever summer…

  5. Well, we are leaving YEEHAW Wyoming and the Jackson summer hordes to live over the hill in EDAOW which we are dearly looking forward too. I just will still have to drive over the hill for work, but what the hell. TK

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