Run #1628 On a Train Bound for Nowhere
Dr. Kimble gathered the Gypsies at one of his favor starting spots, the Spencer Ave. East park and ride lot in Sausalito. He favors this location for one simple reason; there is nowhere to go but UP! What a great spot, even after you get to go down you go right back up! The Outbeer was waiting when the clown car arrived and out stepped Backside Banger, Adopt A Pussy and Daffy Fuck sans floppy shoes; the red noses would be there after they’d been drinking. The keg of Lagunitas Little Sumpin’ Sumpin’ was quickly tapped and the drinking started, soon enough the noses would be matching the red cups. Little Sumpin’ Sumpin’ is not AAP’s favorite but since trails in at this start need DGK (Don’t Get Killed) checks that mean it AAP drank anyway! The pack was slow to arrive, especially the city folk like Blow Queen and Hand Pump but eventually the pack was together and after bravely deciding to *un without being blessed but putting away a few pints of courage set off on Dr. K’s survival trek! Trail left the parking lot and headed down Spencer Ave. While Tongueless and Fits In were busy trying to avoid traffic, they were overtaken by 5150 and thus a VERY Lost Patrol came into being. T relies heavily on the Henry Miller saying that, “There is hope only for the hopeless.” and who is more hopeless than T! As the pack turned up the hillside near the Morning Sun Trail head Hose Blower and Wham Bam Thank You Tam started their climb. Wash This Asshole trailed along behind them just in case a tragic accident left someone in need of succor, remember who there is hope for! Bitch Pimp arrived late and set off on trail alone. The more intrepid Gypsies pumped up the long line of steps to the point where the Morning Sun crosses the Alta Trail and they turned onto the real shiggy. The Alta Trail is just dandy if you don’t look over the edge. Being a man of science BQ dropped a rock off and timed its fall. Trust me you don’t want to know what the drop was like. The trail pretty much means there is no passing by anyone without wings. Down below the LP was arguing about the fastest way back having created their own trail on Spencer Ave. The pack finally came to Wolfback Ridge Rd. and potential death by speeding trail bike! Manhole had cast his fate and his knees in with the climbers and the sound of those knees creaking away made those already back aware of his approach. The regrouped pack lacked only Hand Pump and Bitch Pimp but no one was interested in waiting for their return before tapping the keg and diving into the Vitamin J or mixing coffee from the Sacred Thermi with Irish Cream, Kahlua and or brandy. Our missing duo rolled in, and the more alcohol driven portion of the evening flowed on, pun intended. The minion of the law who came through was wearing his best, “It’s you lot AGAIN” expression as he shook his head and cruised under the freeway to find a place to coop. Another evening of the Gypsies business as usual. Cheers,
On In!