Monday, August 9, 2010

Dammapalooza

As we floated down the Winnebago River, I thought to myself, "Why the hell did I name a weekend after myself? What a ridiculous idea!"

The name was self-indulgent and stupid. The weekend was epic -- maybe Dammapalooza wasn't such a bad idea after all.

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I guess the weekend began on Thursday night as I went to Gejo's in Clear Lake to celebrate a good friend's 27th birthday. We sat outside, drank beer and margaritas, and enjoyed a bunch of awesome Italian pizza. My friends' children ran around in the outdoor patio and we all laughed at the crazy scene we were creating with four kids under the age of 4 and a bunch of older kids in our 20s enjoying a summer night with great friends.

We took a trolley around Clear Lake, listened to a mediocre band on Main Street and laughed as Cooper, Rylee and Aiden danced the night away. Funny, funny kids!

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Friday brought another night in Clear Lake -- this time at the OP. We sat outside and had some really good food and told way too many stories about me. Charlson was adding plenty of spice to all of the stories and we laughed our asses off the whole night. Charlie and I came back to F.C. to sit around and drink the rest of the night. Preparation for the big day ahead.

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On Saturday morning at the way too early hour of 7 am, Charlie and I headed to Rice Lake Golf Course in Lake Mills to play a round of golf.

We drank some Budweisers and a bloody mary....Joe smoked a cigar....and we both played really good golf but managed to not make a birdie (by the way I beat Charlson, thank you very much!).

Noon to 1 pm was a rush. We zipped from #18 to the liquor store to pickup a bunch of beer, to Joe's house to get his swim trunks, to my place to pickup some other friends, to Borderline for a greasy pizza, and to Leland to meet the rest of our friends and start our journey down the Winnebago River.

One canoe. One paddle boat. One oar per boat. Eight friends. Over 100 beers. Not enough sunscreen.

All this would add up to a 7-hour, 7-mile journey down the Winnebago. We cannonballed off of muddy hills, swam, drank, pushed the boats down the river, tried to paddle the boats down the river, and attempted to avoid rocks, logs and other debris as we walked down the river.

As the sky turned dark, we made it to Pammel Park in Forest City and everyone was really glad to be back.

Sometimes we pretend like life is complicated....but it's really not.

There should be more days with friends, the outdoors and a bunch of beers.

I know there is more to life than those 3 things but Dammapalooza didn't need anything else.

At least for a hot weekend in August, those 3 things were enough.

We're doing it again next year if you want to join.

Enjoy the ride,
Damm

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