Labor Day Weekend!

Wow. It has literally taken me a week to recover from Labor Day weekend. After existing off only beer and two hours of sleep a night for four days, my brain is completely fried. And all I have to say is that if you weren’t there, there is absolutely no possible way I can explain it to you, because it was pretty much the best weekend of my life. But I suppose I shall try…

Kelly and I had the brilliant idea that leaving the city at 3 p.m. on Friday afternoon would give us more than a head start on the masses of Seattleites looking for extended weekend fun in Eastern Washington. We didn’t realize that our plan, although seemingly clever, was not as ingenious as we might have thought. Every other person in Seattle seemed to have come to the exact same conclusion, and by North Bend, the highway was gridlocked. Crawling at paces that most often didn’t even register on the speedometer, we didn’t reach our destination campsite until almost 9:30 p.m. – six hours later.

I was quite disappointed to discover that our friends who had gone over earlier that day to reserve a super sweet campsite at Getty’s Cove had instead chosen the Wild Horse Campground, near the Gorge Amphitheatre. The Wild Horse is actually an OK place… if you’re planning on going to a concert. There’s a shuttle bus that ferries people back and forth from the camp site to the Gorge parking lot, which is pretty sweet. However, the campsite is really quite lame for people NOT attending the show. And since our friends only reserved one spot, we were forced to cram two cars and about 15 people into a space the size of my living room. Tents were stuffed between cars, up against fences, and spilling onto the gravel road. I said a quick prayer that we would not be stepped on or driven over in the middle of the night.

Since campfires are not allowed at Wild Horse, we positioned ourselves in a circle with some flashlights and tried to make the best of the situation. I mean really, I was camping with hot firefighters, no need to be negative! The next morning we woke up early and headed to Sunland where we would be launching the boats for the Sand Dunes… and like I said before, if you’ve never been there, there is simply no way I can explain this fantastic fantasy land. It’s how I always imagined one of those Spring Break parties in Mexico to be. We anchored the boat on the beach and stepped out onto the warm, white sand and looked around. Even though it wasn’t even 10 a.m. half naked people were already everywhere, wandering around with a plethora of alcoholic beverages. It was like a little slice of heaven.


The rest of the day becomes quite hazy in my memory. Hundreds of boats. Hundreds of people. Most of them with gorgeous, tanned bodies. Sunscreen. Loud music. Swimming. Floating. Beer bongs. Mud wrestling. Pasties. Boobies. Little kids (which we decided was NOT okay). Drinks shoved into my hands. People back flipping down the hill. Friends disappearing and reappearing. Dancing. Climbing on and off boats. Constantly finding that my beer was empty again. More sunscreen. At one point, the sun went behind the hill, and I was shocked to discover that evening had arrived. Somehow Andres had cut his hand, so we called it a day and headed back to shore. (It was only afterward that we realized we had inadvertently left one of Dre’s friends on the dunes. I believe he ended up spending the night there, but still can’t be sure…)

Back at the campsite, most of the people we had spent the day with jumped on the bus to see Dave Matthews, so Kelly, Jeanna and I sat around talking and drinking as the dark closed in. Bored and in a drunken, sun-induced haze, we were looking for fun wherever it could be found. Always the first one to be up for an adventure, Jeanna found it. She and a couple other people decided that it would be beyond entertaining to jump the fence behind our campsite and trek through the fields toward the concert. Kelly and I declined, sure that this escapade would involve being gored by cows. Instead, we wandered around the campsite looking for some entertainment. We ended up having to amuse ourselves with more alcohol, since the entire place was empty… even the crazy hippies at the site next to us had disappeared. We did see some incredibly radical RVs, and began planning out a cross country road trip.

The next morning we dragged ourselves out of the tent and attempted to look presentable. Let me tell you, camping for three days in a row pretty much sucks. Upon discovering we were out of both beer and ice (even though we had originally bought enough alcohol to last the entire weekend, and it was only day two) we make a quick pit stop at the store. And lo and behold, who did I run into? My friend Shane, who I went to both high school and a year of college with, but hadn’t spoken to in years! It was beyond exciting, and he was even more adorable than the last time I had seen him. Score. We made plans to meet up later in the day.

Another day at the dunes, which was even more fantastic than the last. I was thrilled to discover that the “Party Barge” we had been eyeing the day before in fact belonged to Shane’s friend, so I spent a substantial amount of time hanging with the crew there. I also ran into my friend Tara, who I had not seen in months. The day was even hazier than the one before, and at one point I even remember chugging Peach Schnapps out of the bottle, sick!! I ran into different friends here and there throughout the day, and after what seemed like only an hour, I was informed that our boats were leaving. Since I was having a glorious time on the Party Barge, I decided that I would simply stay and hang out. No matter that I would be stranded on a virtual desert island with people I barely knew… it still sounded like a fantastic idea.

Sadly, the Party Barge soon headed back to shore as well. All was going great as we chugged along until some girl thought it would be a great idea to hit golf balls off the front of the boat. I don’t think she really knew what she was doing though, because she promptly threw an expensive club into the Columbia River, and its owner was not one bit happy. As I felt a hangover beginning to kick in, I began to wish I was off the Party Barge. Once back on shore, Shane gave me a ride back to the Wild Horse. NOT thrilled about spending another evening wandering around the dark, empty campsite, we snagged Jeanna and headed back to Sunland. For what must have been hours, we hung out with Shane and his friends, sitting in the grass listening to music and then hanging out playing bizarre drinking games in someone's garage. Jeanna and I also managed to snag a hot, home cooked meal, which was pretty much the only food I had eaten all weekend at that point.

Worried that Kelly would feel abandoned, we hitched a ride back to our campsite. Our concerns ended up being unwarranted, as we returned to discover Kelly sucking face with a new friend! I guess she managed to keep herself entertained after all. At this point fatigue was really starting to set in, so I opted to stay behind while the rest of the crew headed to a nearby bar. Instead, I took the best disco nap of my entire life. Upon waking, I came upon a pretty entertaining scene… the hippies next door had managed to lock their keys in the trunk. The next few hours were spent trying to retrieve them, and to this day I could not tell you why we found the whole situation so entertaining. Kelly was about to call AAA to help the poor kids out, when one of them (apparently high on an unidentified drug that induces angry rages) accused Jeanna of being a “fat cunt.” Not OK. The hippies were on their own, and did not enjoy the pleasure of our company again.

As I crawled out of the tent on day three, I was in a very sad state. I hadn’t showered in three days, was still wearing my bathing suit, and had makeup streaked down my face. I attempted to pull myself together for another day at the dunes, but soon found that the boats would not be headed out again. I took in the news with mixed emotions. Half of me wanted so badly to go and spend another day drinking and dancing in the sun, but the other half (the bruised, battered, hung over, sleep-deprived half) warned me that another day could quite possibly kill me. Dejectedly, I crawled into the back seat of Kelly’s car for the ride home. And promptly fell asleep.

I couldn’t think of a more perfect way to end the summer. I’m still recovering, but it was well worth it. The only way to describe it: Fan-freaking-tastic!