The Bachelor Party Journal
By Nate
(Click here to see the BACHELOR PARTY PHOTO ALBUM)
Friday, August 4th
Keith Pollock and I arrived at the Red Wing Mall parking lot at about 6 pm after a couple of quick stops at the liquor and grocerie stores. Some of our supplies included Colt 45 and thick slabs of steak. Others arrived one by one over the next hour - Anthony Hall and his dog, Dave Pollatsek, Joel Wegener, Kevin Theisen,Dan Feiveson and Chad Lindeen. After a little parking lot frisbee and various trips to the bathroom, grocerie store, and liquor store, we headed down the cannon valley bike trail towards the land bridge. Keith and Chad canoed down the Cannon River from the Old Tressel to haul the heavy equipment (Beer, Beer, Cooler, Ice,, and Beer) For those of us who took the hiking route, it did not take more than two minutes before most of us were covered by mosquitoes and the ensuing red welts that accompanie their bite. Less than two hundered meters from our cars we had doused ourselves in mosquitoe juice, and we were not even on the hiking trail yet! I was questioning even then if it was going to be worth hiking all that way into the swamp for a party that I wanted everyone else to enjoy as much as I would. I mentioned early on that if the bugs were too bad I would be willing to head out and find something less unpleasant to do for my bachelor party. We had to at least make it to the camp site, however, since Keith and Chad had already set off down the river.
When we hit the land bridge and headed into the swamp I became even more nervous that my choice of party location was a bad idea, but as we pushed through the tall brush into our mucky surroundings the mosquitoes actually seemed to ease off a bit. By the time we reached the tracks I quit worrying about it and figured that if the bugs were bad, things would work out anyways. The rest of the hike out to the old stomping grouds was just as I remembered it as a teen ager. It is hard to believe that it has been almost ten years since I had build my shelter out there. Yet everything was so familiar. The tracks are just like they have always been - with the mucky pond off to the left and unsure footing to the right. The occasional railroad sign marked our progress to the point where we cut into the forest. When we drew close to the river we cut into the thick grass and pressed our way into the woods and underlying nettle thickets. Before long we were banging our shins on logs buried beneight the drooping grass, and on occasion someone would take a spill or step up to their knee into a slimey hole created by a rotten stump. Going through the last leg of the hike is always the toughest, and a few times someone questioned my direction, but I could not get lost in that part of the bottoms if I tried. There is no such thing as a straight path through that patch of woods, and in high school we did get lost a few times, but now it is like and old friend to me. I don't think I will loose my sense of the area any time soon. When we got out into the open grass patches it took a serious effort to push through the grass, and passing through the shady nettle underbrush, the slightest brush of bare skin on the elbow high nettle leaves the skin burning for a while. Someone had thin pants and and said the nettle was going through the pants. Thinking back, tredging through the woods like that was exactly what I was hoping for, maybe even more so than sitting around the camp fire or drinking with pals.
When we arrived at the campsite we usually stay at, we found no one there. As we approached the river we saw Chad and Keith sitting on the beach on the opposite bank. They suggested that we camp on the wide stretch of beach they were sitting on, and after the beating we had taken from the mosquitoes we were all quick to agree. Upon our assent, Keith and Chad unloaded the canoe and began carting people across the river to the beach. While people were being ferried across, I left my gear and jogged back to the mall parking lot to meet Eric Johnson. It felt great to move smoothly along the tracks and across the land bridge. The mosquitoes had really died down as evening took over.
After a short wait Eric Johnson showed up and we headed into K-mart for extra mosquitoe juice, and on the way my brother Aaron drove up. It was a hell of a lot of luck that he did. He told us how he had went to my parents house and made a long series of phone calls to figure out where we were at, and when he got to the the mall he was confused because I had said "Sears" instead of JCPennies as the meeting place at 9pm, and there is no Sears at the mall. He was just about to leave when he pulled up. I was completely surprised to see him there because I had been told that he was coming out later with my dad.
We loaded Eric's things into my brothers car and drove down to the entrance to the land bridge. We headed out in complete darkness, but as we did it was amazing how few mosquitoes were out compared with earlier in the evening. It was a nice walk to the entrance to the thick woods, and after the cut into the forest we slowed due to the darkness. Again, Eric and Aaron were wondering if we were going the right way and though it strange that we did not have a flash light. When they started to get nervous we reached the river and saw the glow of the campfire downstream. We were quiclky carted to the beach and joined the group that seemed to have little trouble introducing and talking to each other. They had a weak fire going and the beer in the cooler. I had made many of cases of homebrew for the wedding , but did not use it for the reception. We brought two cases of it and everyone seemed to like it well enought, but it is not a good heavy drinking beer so we had a case of miller and the Colt 45's to back us up.
Things get a bit fuzzy now because of the beer and because so many people were there. When we returned we worked on a few bottles and then worked getting the fire. We loaded wet wood on at first, and while we were doing that we could hear someone making noise in the woods. It was Matt Heller, who had survived nearly 21 hours of flights and delays from Alaska to Minnesota to be at this party. It made me feel great that he would go through such a long day and still make it to the party. After he got to the beach we soon were in the woods scouting for firewood and chopping at the swampwood that gives off a musty dirty smell when you burn it, no matter how dry it is. We pulled a couple of sizable trees back to the beach and received a bit of heckling for it. On one trip back I missed the dropoff to the beach and spilled right onto it. Shortly, we had a blazing fire worth note, and a round of cutting the wood ensued with everyone taking a turn at the axe.
We all talked and drank for a while, and Chad mixed some drinks for everyone, Gin and Tonic being the most requested. It was great to see everyone again, and it is somewhat sad that as we all get older the opportunities for us to get together happen less frequently. Even more so, it was sad for me because it was possibly the only and last opportunity for me to ask all of my best friends form each period of my life thus far to get together and do exactly what I would hope to do. It made me happy to stand on that beach on that beautiful night in a place I love and have them all spend that time with me. My worries about being the only one wanting to be in the woods were completely erased as we all sat on the beach.
At some point we pulled out the Paint Guns that my wedding party had brought and loaded them up with gas and pellets. Before long about half of us were shooting at everything in sight and soon we headed into the small grass field next to the beach. For all the time Stacey and I spend trying to keep River from seeing guns on TV and from playing with toy guns, it is ironic that I would have such a good time shooting paintballs at my best friends. We dodged each other and ducked in the tall grass and behind tree stumps while trying to shoot at each other on such a dark night that you could not even see the sights on the gun. This made for a lot of missed shots. Maybe a better way to look at it is there was not much paint on anybody when we woke up in the morning. It was great to sprint from spot to spot with balls wizzing by, diving into the thick pad of grass, only to jump up and spray a line of rounds across the field. As long as we kept moving the mosqiutoes did not have a chance to land and bite. After a while we started standing up to give each other better targets. It was really hard to hit a moving target when all that you could see was a faint blur across a swaying background. To top it off, we could not track our bullets and adjust where the shots were heading. Regardless, it was a great time. Many shots brushed my clothes and zipped by but I was only hit directly a couple of times. It stung a little, but not bad at all. We were careful to make sure we were wearing face guards. I did get hit on my guard over my neck. I was happy to have it on. After playing for about a half an hour we headed back to the beach and shot at bottles and things across the river. While we were winding down in our paintgun play we could hear someone yelling in the distant woods. We yelled back and waited until the yelling got closer. As they did Matt Heller and I headed across the river to meet whoever was on their way. As we headed into the woods toward the voices we could see a light in the distance. When we met up with it I was happy to see Thang and entirely surprised to see my dad, complete with banjo in hand. Those two arriving completed the group. Everyone I had wanted to be at this party was there. The complete list was:
Thang Nguyen
After we got Thang and my dad across the river he pulled out his banjo and gave us a bluegrass serenade in front of the campfire. After a couple of songs it bagan to rain and the banjo headed to the tent for the night. It rained on and off for the next hour and people began heading into the tents to avoid the water. It was now about 4 am and I was getting tired so I snuck into the tent thinking I could get some sleep before the race in the morning, but just after heading to bed I was beckoned by several people screaming my name as loud as they could. I tried to ignore it and get some sleep, but I only managed about a five minute nap. As the yelling went on people continued to pile in the tent, until we were 5 across with Thang curled up in a corner and Chad snuggling with my dads banjo in front of the doorway. The tent was completely filled with both sand and mosquitoes. Realizing I was not going to sleep before the race I mustered up the energy to head back out to watch the sunrise with my dad and brother. They were still hitting the beer in the twilight of dawn and the fire smoldered at their feet. A steady plume of smoke marked the spot everyone had gathered around for most of the night.
Thinking the party was over I began to clean up the mess and gather up the empty bottles, knowing someone would have to cart it out in the morning. When I was about to dump the ice my dad and brother voiced not to waste it and had me put another 6 pack in it to cool down. When dawn broke to daylight Aaron tried a couple of times to dump me in the river (with no success). At one point he rushed me and I jumped out of the way to watch his feet slide deep into the mud he was trying to roll me in. Feeling dejected, he decided to go for a swim, and before long the splash of water filled the camp. In the tents people that had been half listening moaned their amazement and amusement. It took balls to jump in that river in the morning after standing in the slow rain all night. Knowing this, it's little wonder that before long the big man himself was stripping down to the skivies to show us his fine new slim phisique. The image of my dad and brother doing a double cannon ball into the muddy waters of the cannon river will always be the highlight of my bachelor party, and I am proud to say that the two people to help make it into a true party were my brother and my dad. If they every read this, thanks. That was great. As I write this now, however, I am really mad that I did not go in the river. They were telling me to jump in and I copped out. I failed myself by worrying about the dirty campsite when I should have been a participant. I should have been true to my roots and played with the big boys. They were having such a good time.
Others were waking to the sounds of the action. Slowly people were exiting the tents and before long people were ready to cross the river and head to town for the race. I packed up my things and headed across the river with Matt Heller, where we waited for the rest of the crew to be ferried across the river. Keith stedied the canoe for my brother and dad after I had taken his banjo carefully across the river. After getting in the canoe and pushing off, it took less than two seconds for the canoe to go bottom up. As fast as it happened, Keith managed to jump to shore and avoid getting dumped. Aaron and Dad were soaked to the knees. The second attempt to get across ended with Aaron rolling out of the canoe backwards. With him out the canoe quickly rolled the other way and my dad went in head first. Keith jumped out again but this time landed in the river up to his knees. Dad and Aaron clambered to the shore to give it one more try. After they had gotten in for one more shot it was clear that they were going no where. Again they dumped and began accusing each other of putting the canoe off balance. The whole time I was trying to tell them to sit or lie in the bottom so the weight was lower in the canoe. In the end, Aaron swam across the river to my complete dissatisfaction. As drunk as he was, it was a terrible idea. The river current was ok halfway across, but towards the bank I was standing on it got very deep and the current very fast. He tried three times and every time I was worried he did not understand what he was getting into. On the third try I streached a branch out to him and he grabbed it and pulled himself to shore and climbed up a root to the muddy bank. Keith managed to get my dad across without Aaron in the canoe. Climbing up the bank was another matter, and he slipped into the water up to his knees, as did about half the people that crossed the river that morning. By the time Aaron and dad had finally gotten across the river most everyone was ready to head out. The only people staying behind were Dave, Keith, and Anthony. Matt and Thang ran ahead to make the race while Aaron, Dad, Chad, Joel, Kevin, Dan and I worked our way along the banks of the cannon on an easy path created by 4 wheelers. When we got the the land bridge dad took a spill and twisted his ankle. It was swollen for two weeks but no real damage was done. Chad and I drove my dad and brothers car back to town, and back home we recuperated with showers and breakfast. Matt and Thang were the only ones to make the race. I slept for a couple of hours before weaking up to get working on the many thing that we had going on before the wedding on Sunday. At about one Dave and Keith called from the Levee in downtown Red Wing where they were waiting with the gear and the canoe.and the amazing load of trash. When I arrived I found them soaked from the rain that fell during their paddle down the Mississippi. Luckily, it was not too cold so they did not get hypothermia. They did look pretty rugged. All of the equipment was covered in mud and sand, and it was all soaked. After picking up Keith's truck we then picked up the canoe and went to my parents house, where I made pancakes while they cleaned up.
Thanks everyone for the great and memorable night. Nate
Notable Items Consumed:
5 small steaks (2 Rolled in the fire)
2 cases of beer
Gin
3 Colt 45's
Cigars
My Friend Jose Quervo
1 Bag of Combos (A Big Hit!)
Hot Dogs
