"F" doesn't only stand for Fun!

Another weekend of camping has come and gone. After Cobby got over his "I'm leaving at 230 and you better rec'gnyze I duh boss" shithole attitude. Yeah, like he was leaving at 230...with what food? You think he was going to kill his own food? And season it with what...beer? And who was going to remind him to grab the keys to the bikes and the trailer? Oh yeah...duh boss was gonna do all dat. HAHA - thppppp!

Of course once we got there and he came around to remember who the real boss was, he started to drink, relax and have some fun. So we get the campsite where some of his friends already had settled. Some friends that we haven't seen in a looooong time were even there. However, before we arrived someone who had already camped up over the hill came on down the hill and dropped all their shit just a sticks throw from us. That's right, camp trailers, trucks and horse trailers....and guess what came in those trailers?? That's right, horses. And when I say a sticks throw, I don't mean professional pitcher sticks throw...I mean girl arm, never succeeded at softball sticks throw. That's right...if Cobby farted (and I'm pretty sure he did) the horses would have reared their heads (and they did). The major problem with the horses? Sometimes horse owner people are pricks. Here is how it is...we don't tie up our dogs. Neither do most of our friends that we camp with. I wish I would have got a shot of our pack...it was an awesome sight, 13 in all...and only 2 get tied up. That's how we roll. So when one of the friends dogs wandered over into the horse area and the friend went to fetch him up and one of the horse owners snidely said "you should tie up your dog" but under her breath so it was quiet enough that only Jodi would hear, but loud enough that she could tell her family when they got back how she was all sassy and told us to get the fuck out and stuff. Whatever....if you were so tough you would have used a megaphone...biotch!


That night, I acquired this rash on my arm, I haven't webmd'd it cause it is probably malaria or polio or something...and better to be in denial, at least in the early stages. Now, I have to live my last few days like they are my last. Or....I'll go to work and just scream "OW" when Jeff touches my arm.

Anyway, we didn't ride that much this weekend. As a matter of fact, I only rode twice and that was so I could take the dogs on a run. They love it...and they can keep up at 25 mph - for a limited time. But steady at 15-18, they sooo rock.

Sunday morning we wake up to this:















A couple of people couldn't get out so at 830 the first truck pulled out (with the help of bigdaddy's big ram) sans trailer. We decide to wait it out...cause what's the rush? We decided to leave at about 230, but by then it was already established who was leaving, staying and who was leaving but also leaving stuff. Of course, down the road a minute, and this is what it looks like:

The thing is when the sun comes out...the snow melts...makes more muddy...not always goody. So we are gone Here is a pic of bigdriverdaddy.















And because she is so cute, here is a pic of cute little Gracie in her cute jacket. I do realize these aren't the best pics on the planet, but I didn't take my camera so the new phone had to cut it....believe me, had I only known we would see a moose, I would have taken the camera.

And of course, as we are driving home, we both hope this is not the last camping trip of the year. It really is too much to handle. But never fear, we have already started to arrange a trip to the sand dunes in October...it will be perfect weather, I'm sure of it.

By the way, as of the writing of this text, bigdaddy has returned home after the latest attempt to fetch up the last straggling trailer..and it worked. See, it wasn't so bad.