it is an overcast and gloomy morning here in columbus, ohio. the sky looms dark over the northwest side of town, and massive rain clouds silently creep up on windermere elementary school. the children inside sneek glances out the window in anticipation of the coming storm. they know that rumbling in the distance well. it can mean only one thing...
indoor recess.
which, in turn, can only mean one thing.
THE OREGON TRAIL
welcome back, everyone! its time for another fateful trip down the oregon trail with your good buddy, morgan hughes! the crew for this installation with be...
Morgan Hughes
Lindsay Galbreath
Bill Wagg
Marissa Tomasic
Daid French
lindsay is coming along because she actually requested to in real life, wagg because of his ability to defeat dirty indians in a dunk contest for food, marissa because shes the only other person in the world that thinks the saying "making dump and weenus" is hilarious besides me, and french because i recently learned that he plagerized me and i want to see him die in any forum possible.
we are bankers from boston. we are leaving in april because anyone born in the 1980s knows that this is by far the best month to leave. if you think differently, you are a savage.
before we leave, we need to stop by matts general store to pick up some food, a few oxen, some ammo for hunting, and tampons for lindsay. she is always on her period. or at least it seems like she is. bitch.
Independence, MO - April 1, 1848
Weather: Cool
Health: Good
Pace: Steady
Rations: Meager
lets get going. i want to get to oregon as soon as possible, and if anyone gets in my way (FRENCH) i am going to feed you to butchs tarantula. and please dont touch my large plain cheese pizza. thanks - signed, kevin mcalister.
from independence it is 102 miles to the kansas river crossing...
...and shockingly we make it there without incident. i ask anyone if they want to look around, and wagg makes a comment about tyler hansbrough and how he is going to have a serious impact on the pacers this season. he also says he doesnt want to sound like a homer, but danny green is a sure fire first ballot hall of famer. and that rasheed wallace and vince carter will be the biggest difference makers in the east this year. i make the decision to float the wagon across the river, and i tell wagg that i hope he drowns.
the river is 4.6 feet deep, and we float that bitch right across without any problems. marissa suggests that we celebrate with a few natty ices and lindsay agrees. while we are all partying around the camp fire that night, a few smoking hot indian sluts stop by to hang out. french innapropriately hits on them to the point that they get up and leave. wagg thinks UNCs out of conference schedule in the toughest in america this season.
from the kansas river crossing it is 83 miles to the big blue river crossing...
health is good. pace is good. the oxen are making dump and weenus wherever they want, which makes them almost as cool as dinosaurs. and you have to respect that.
marissa falls out of the wagon and breaks her leg. french helps her brace the wound and asks her on a date. she says that its pretty much impossible for them to go on a date because they are traveling across the country in a freaking wagon. french tells her that she smells nice.
we arrive at the big blue river crossing, and it is 2.9 feet deep in the middle. seems like a perfect opportunity to float that bitch across. in case you were wondering, i will almost always try to float the wagon across, no matter how deep it is. lindsay remarks softly that she thinks i am a good leader. flirting with me will not get you any extra food, linds. oh wait. yes it will.
....sonuvabitch. the wagon tipped over while floating, and we lost 1600 pound of food, 1 wagon axle, and 127 bullets. this is a slight problem, as we only had 1700 pound of food to begin with. sadly, french survives.
from the big blue river crossing, it is 119 miles to fort kearny.
we pass a gravesite - would we like to look closer? hell yes we would like to look closer.
"here lies andy, peperony and chease"
much like we would do with a cartoon from the wall street journal, everyone looks at the gravestone and politely laughs. we have no idea what it means, but we are too proud to ask for clarification from someone else. also, marissa is drunk again.
on april 21, 1848 we reach fort kearny. from fort kearny to chimney rock, it is 200 miles. food supplies are low, and lindsay tells me that she "kinda likes the color of my eyes" - so i throw her a turkey leg and tell her to keep up the good work. french doesnt like this, and suggests that he and marissa move to the back of the wagon and "figure some stuff out". marissa is on her third bottle of mango passion boones farm for the day, so she agrees. wagg says that ty lawson is going to make a serious case for rookie of the year this season.
we leave for chimney rock.
and ox wanders off and we lose one day. marissa was in charge of watching the ox. typical.
lindsay has a broken leg. what, i am supposed to feel bad for you? you think youre better than me?
marissa has a broken arm. wagg and i tie marissa and lindsay to the top of the wagon with nintendo 64 controllers for fun. french asks us what a nintendo 64 is. we dont know. we live in 1848, dumbass.
we find an abandoned wagon with 1 set of clothes and 2 wagon axles! hurray! on the other hand, we are out of food. i decide to go hunting...
i shot two deer and a buffalo that combined weigh 1270 pounds, but was only able to carry 100 pounds back to the wagon. lindsay tells me that its okay, she still thinks i am a great provider. i tell her that she is starting to come off as a little needy.
as we near chimney rock, the ground goes from the color green to the color orange. marissa blames the color change on the lack of busch light, and wagg says that he thinks jerry stackhouse has a minimum of five good years left in him.
we arrive at chimney rock. from here, it is 86 miles to fort laramie. french hopes that he can pick up a nice looking camel hair sports coat while there. i tell him that his boat shoes have no place on the oregon trail. he is sad.
inadequte grass, very little water, inadequate grass. a wagon tounge breaks, and though no one is sure what in the hell a wagon tounge is, we manage to fix it. very little water. a wagon axle breaks. lindsay says that this is what happens when you buy american. i tell her that if she doesnt like this country, she can move to another one. she said thats why she is going to oregon. stupid lindsay...
we arrive at fort laramie and are immediately told that we must "flip he diskette to side two". i shoot a look of confusion at wagg, who informs me that sean may is ready to make a serious push for playing time this season. lindsay tells me that she thinks we would have cute kids. i inform her that she stinks of desperation, and marissa says to no one in particular that she hopes there is mikes hard lemonade on side two.
i press the space bar and we move on. fort laramie is ultra sweet, and i buy 1500 pounds of food. french buys a pair of white shoes that everyone hates but him. whatever. from here it is 190 miles to independence rock.
inadequate grass, very little water, inadequate grass, very little water. french wonders aloud why we left in april, and maybe that this trip would have been easier if we left in the fall. lindsay punches him in the mouth. its nice to have someone that sticks up for you, but i am totally not sleeping with her no matter how hard she tries. unless i am drunk. which i am. a lot.
FIND WILD FRUIT!
without any cause or reason why from the oregon trail gods, french has died. at the funeral, marissa admits that they had been sleeping together for weeks. wagg is offended, as he had been sleeping with marissa as well. lindsay, overcome with emotion, tells everyone that her and marissa had a softcore makeout session the night that french scared off the dirty indian sluts. youve got to be kidding me - everyone has been with marissa except me? this is bullshit.
we hastily burry french in a shallow grave next to some oxen dung and move on.
very little watter. bad trail. lose one day. i hate traveling.
we arrive at independence rock, and our health is poor. lindsay suggests we stop and rest for a few days, but it will be a cold day in hell when i start taking advice from a freaking girl. especially one with red hair and freckles. gross.
from here it is 102 miles to the south pass. which is a very descriptive name.
bad trail. lose three days. inadequate grass. very little water. marissa is hungover. what else is new.
we arrive at the south pass, and are given the option of heading to the green river or fort bridger. people are again in poor health, and a stop at a fort could really do wonders for morale.
i decide to hunt.
after returning with nothing and wasting 87 bullets shooting a rock out of frustration, i decide to head towards the green river crossing. lindsay says it is a smart decision. okay, fine - go wait for me in the back of the wagon. tramp.
after three minutes of heavy petting and sexual awkwardness, we get on the road. from here it is 57 miles to the green river.
inadequate grass. very little water. marissa is passed out and her boob is hanging out. sweet. FIND WILD FRUIT!
we arrive at the green river. it is 400 feet across and 20 feet deep in the middle. this is a serious freaking river right here. no use getting cocky and doing something stupid.
i decide to float the wagon across. shockingly, nothing happens. victory for wagon carol seaver!
from here it is 144 miles to soda springs.
and marissa has dysentery.
and wagg has typhoid. i ask him how he is feeling, and he says that his dad told him that raymond felton looked good in the preseason. should push for some significant playing time this year. marissa is making dump all over the back of the wagon. i make lindsay clean it up. gross.
bad trail - lose 5 days. during those five days, we celebrate the 4th of july in typical UA fashion. wagg and i construct a makeshift baseball diamond, and lindsay gets drunk and hugs most of the guys with shaggy hair and a jeep wrangler that show up. she is such a hug slut. marissa chugs a case of mad dog and asks a group of little kids if they want to know how to "live forever". i apologize to their parents and we continue on the trail.
we arrive at soda springs. from here it is 57 miles to fort hall.
i decide to hunt.
i shoot the shit out of a rabbit and a deer and come back with 75 pounds of food. lindsay is impressed. at this point you can pretty much hear her biological clock ticking.
FIND WILD FRUIT!
one of the ox is injured. marissa is drunk. she starts to cry and says she misses "that guy dexter spanish". was that the guy who just died? we all think about it, and agree that dexter spanish was probably his name. who can be sure.
we reach fort hall. i buy more food for lindsay, who i just noticed has started to put on some serious weight. from here it is 182 miles to the snake river crossing.
impassable trail. lose four days. we break a wagon axle. wagg fixes it.
time to hunt.
i murder a deer with my gun and carry 62 pounds of food back to the wagon. lindsay is even bigger than i remember.
impassable trail. lose three days. bad water. very little water. inadequate grass.
wagg has typhoid. and a fever. this probably will not end well for dear william.
we reach the snake river crossing, which is 1000 feet across and 6 feet deep in the middle. i make a tough call and decide to float the wagon across....
...
.......
....and the wagon sinks. we lose 100 pounds of food, six sets of clothing, and marissa drowns. i would normally be sad and blame myself, but she was pretty wasted when we tipped over. lindsday says she tried to save her, but wagg and i cant remember that ever happening. we think she is lying. oh well, she is in a better place now, and at least shell have ron mexico to keep her company. that was his name, right? ron mexico?
yeah, probably.
from here it is 114 miles to fort boise. wagg is feeling better. lindsay is massive.
one of the oxen has died. doesnt matter to me, as i love to see animals suffer. lindsay says she is having "morning sickness". i laugh and pretend i know what she is talking about.
impassable trail - lose nine days. i tell wagg that nine days sang that awesome song "story of a girl" in 1999, then i remembered that its actually only 1848. my bad. wagg says jeff mcinnis is going to make serious strides this season.
wagg has cholera. a thief comes in the middle of the night and steals 84 pounds of food. that stinks. that 84 pounds of food could have fed lindsay for two days.
wagg has a broken leg from jumping on the trampoline.
wagg has a snakbite. god wants him to die.
we arrive at fort boise. wagg pours out a a bud light on the ground in memory of marissa. i tell him that wasting alcohol is the thing that marissa would have appreciated the least.
from here it is 160 miles to the blue mountains.
bad water, inadequate grass, very little water, bad water, very little water. impassable trail - lose 8 days. wagg says he expects big things out of rashad mccants this year.
FIND WILD FRUIT!
wagg comes across a "summer suit" that belonged to some guy named travis australia (we think) that used to ride with us. lindsay is so fat that we sew it together and use it as a pair of underwear for her. she says she can "feel the baby kicking". thinking "feeling the baby kicking" must be a term for a sweet dunk on NBA jam, i give her a high five and yell "hes on fire!!!!"
very little water. very little water. very little water.
FIND WILD FRUIT!
we find an abandoned wagon with 42 bullets.
time to hunt.
i come back with nothing, but lindsay comforts me by telling me that she thinks i will be a great father. thats pretty random. she must be drinking again.
broken wagon axle. wagg fixes it.
we arrive at the blue mountains. they are beautiful. wagg says they remind him of raymond feltons jump shot. lindsay says that she is pregnant with my child. i wonder what she means.
from here we are given the choice of heading to the dalles or fort walla walla. i decide to think it over while hunting.
after returning with 100 pounds of the finest bear meat this side of the mississippi, i decide that the dalles is the way to go. it seems to me that we would have a better chance if we caulked the wagon and floated it, but its not really an option at the moment.
from here it is 125 miles to the dalles. lindsay says she is having contractions and is worried about the baby. i ask wagg if we have any flavor ice. we do. best day ever!
wrong trail. lose two days. bad water. very little water. no water. water is overrated.
wagg has a broken leg.
wagg has typhoid.
wagg has died.
at the funeral, lindsay tells me that her water has broken. i tell her that she has bigger things to worry about, because there is crap all over her legs. which is disgusting. and smells awful. i tell her to go down to the creek bed and wash that shit off of her. while she cleans herself, i decide to take a nap.
lindsay returns and it appears she has found a puppy. or something. it is covered in goo, and it has a pointy head. on the bright side, lindsay seems to have finally started to lose weight. she says she is tired and needs to rest. i offer to take care of the puppy while she sleeps, but i am actually planning to leave it wherever we are once she falls passes out.
i quickly forget about the new puppy and continue on our way. we arrive at the dalles. from here we can float the wagon down the columbia river or travel down the barlow toll road. i have never been fond of floating the wagon if given a choice, and i am afraid the water will wake up the puppy, who has been a total pain in the ass the last couple of days.
time to hunt.
after coming back empty handed, it appears lindsay has found a human infant, and the puppy is nowhere to be found. she probably traded for it. great, another mouth to feed. i ask what its name is, and lindsay says "morgan, after her father". i tell lindsay she is a total skank for sleeping with two guys named morgan. i didnt even know there were two of us. lindsay is confused and tells me i am acting weird. whatever, skank.
we reach the end of the toll road and the end of our long journey. oregon, USA baby!
lindsay and i share a citrus zima and think back on the time spent on the trail. we talk of memories that will last a lifetime and fondly remember our friends wagg, marissa, and jeremy cleveland.
we will miss you, dear friends, and will think of you often...
...FIND WILD FRUIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
indoor recess.
which, in turn, can only mean one thing.
THE OREGON TRAIL
welcome back, everyone! its time for another fateful trip down the oregon trail with your good buddy, morgan hughes! the crew for this installation with be...
Morgan Hughes
Lindsay Galbreath
Bill Wagg
Marissa Tomasic
Daid French
lindsay is coming along because she actually requested to in real life, wagg because of his ability to defeat dirty indians in a dunk contest for food, marissa because shes the only other person in the world that thinks the saying "making dump and weenus" is hilarious besides me, and french because i recently learned that he plagerized me and i want to see him die in any forum possible.
we are bankers from boston. we are leaving in april because anyone born in the 1980s knows that this is by far the best month to leave. if you think differently, you are a savage.
before we leave, we need to stop by matts general store to pick up some food, a few oxen, some ammo for hunting, and tampons for lindsay. she is always on her period. or at least it seems like she is. bitch.
Independence, MO - April 1, 1848
Weather: Cool
Health: Good
Pace: Steady
Rations: Meager
lets get going. i want to get to oregon as soon as possible, and if anyone gets in my way (FRENCH) i am going to feed you to butchs tarantula. and please dont touch my large plain cheese pizza. thanks - signed, kevin mcalister.
from independence it is 102 miles to the kansas river crossing...
...and shockingly we make it there without incident. i ask anyone if they want to look around, and wagg makes a comment about tyler hansbrough and how he is going to have a serious impact on the pacers this season. he also says he doesnt want to sound like a homer, but danny green is a sure fire first ballot hall of famer. and that rasheed wallace and vince carter will be the biggest difference makers in the east this year. i make the decision to float the wagon across the river, and i tell wagg that i hope he drowns.
the river is 4.6 feet deep, and we float that bitch right across without any problems. marissa suggests that we celebrate with a few natty ices and lindsay agrees. while we are all partying around the camp fire that night, a few smoking hot indian sluts stop by to hang out. french innapropriately hits on them to the point that they get up and leave. wagg thinks UNCs out of conference schedule in the toughest in america this season.
from the kansas river crossing it is 83 miles to the big blue river crossing...
health is good. pace is good. the oxen are making dump and weenus wherever they want, which makes them almost as cool as dinosaurs. and you have to respect that.
marissa falls out of the wagon and breaks her leg. french helps her brace the wound and asks her on a date. she says that its pretty much impossible for them to go on a date because they are traveling across the country in a freaking wagon. french tells her that she smells nice.
we arrive at the big blue river crossing, and it is 2.9 feet deep in the middle. seems like a perfect opportunity to float that bitch across. in case you were wondering, i will almost always try to float the wagon across, no matter how deep it is. lindsay remarks softly that she thinks i am a good leader. flirting with me will not get you any extra food, linds. oh wait. yes it will.
....sonuvabitch. the wagon tipped over while floating, and we lost 1600 pound of food, 1 wagon axle, and 127 bullets. this is a slight problem, as we only had 1700 pound of food to begin with. sadly, french survives.
from the big blue river crossing, it is 119 miles to fort kearny.
we pass a gravesite - would we like to look closer? hell yes we would like to look closer.
"here lies andy, peperony and chease"
much like we would do with a cartoon from the wall street journal, everyone looks at the gravestone and politely laughs. we have no idea what it means, but we are too proud to ask for clarification from someone else. also, marissa is drunk again.
on april 21, 1848 we reach fort kearny. from fort kearny to chimney rock, it is 200 miles. food supplies are low, and lindsay tells me that she "kinda likes the color of my eyes" - so i throw her a turkey leg and tell her to keep up the good work. french doesnt like this, and suggests that he and marissa move to the back of the wagon and "figure some stuff out". marissa is on her third bottle of mango passion boones farm for the day, so she agrees. wagg says that ty lawson is going to make a serious case for rookie of the year this season.
we leave for chimney rock.
and ox wanders off and we lose one day. marissa was in charge of watching the ox. typical.
lindsay has a broken leg. what, i am supposed to feel bad for you? you think youre better than me?
marissa has a broken arm. wagg and i tie marissa and lindsay to the top of the wagon with nintendo 64 controllers for fun. french asks us what a nintendo 64 is. we dont know. we live in 1848, dumbass.
we find an abandoned wagon with 1 set of clothes and 2 wagon axles! hurray! on the other hand, we are out of food. i decide to go hunting...
i shot two deer and a buffalo that combined weigh 1270 pounds, but was only able to carry 100 pounds back to the wagon. lindsay tells me that its okay, she still thinks i am a great provider. i tell her that she is starting to come off as a little needy.
as we near chimney rock, the ground goes from the color green to the color orange. marissa blames the color change on the lack of busch light, and wagg says that he thinks jerry stackhouse has a minimum of five good years left in him.
we arrive at chimney rock. from here, it is 86 miles to fort laramie. french hopes that he can pick up a nice looking camel hair sports coat while there. i tell him that his boat shoes have no place on the oregon trail. he is sad.
inadequte grass, very little water, inadequate grass. a wagon tounge breaks, and though no one is sure what in the hell a wagon tounge is, we manage to fix it. very little water. a wagon axle breaks. lindsay says that this is what happens when you buy american. i tell her that if she doesnt like this country, she can move to another one. she said thats why she is going to oregon. stupid lindsay...
we arrive at fort laramie and are immediately told that we must "flip he diskette to side two". i shoot a look of confusion at wagg, who informs me that sean may is ready to make a serious push for playing time this season. lindsay tells me that she thinks we would have cute kids. i inform her that she stinks of desperation, and marissa says to no one in particular that she hopes there is mikes hard lemonade on side two.
i press the space bar and we move on. fort laramie is ultra sweet, and i buy 1500 pounds of food. french buys a pair of white shoes that everyone hates but him. whatever. from here it is 190 miles to independence rock.
inadequate grass, very little water, inadequate grass, very little water. french wonders aloud why we left in april, and maybe that this trip would have been easier if we left in the fall. lindsay punches him in the mouth. its nice to have someone that sticks up for you, but i am totally not sleeping with her no matter how hard she tries. unless i am drunk. which i am. a lot.
FIND WILD FRUIT!
without any cause or reason why from the oregon trail gods, french has died. at the funeral, marissa admits that they had been sleeping together for weeks. wagg is offended, as he had been sleeping with marissa as well. lindsay, overcome with emotion, tells everyone that her and marissa had a softcore makeout session the night that french scared off the dirty indian sluts. youve got to be kidding me - everyone has been with marissa except me? this is bullshit.
we hastily burry french in a shallow grave next to some oxen dung and move on.
very little watter. bad trail. lose one day. i hate traveling.
we arrive at independence rock, and our health is poor. lindsay suggests we stop and rest for a few days, but it will be a cold day in hell when i start taking advice from a freaking girl. especially one with red hair and freckles. gross.
from here it is 102 miles to the south pass. which is a very descriptive name.
bad trail. lose three days. inadequate grass. very little water. marissa is hungover. what else is new.
we arrive at the south pass, and are given the option of heading to the green river or fort bridger. people are again in poor health, and a stop at a fort could really do wonders for morale.
i decide to hunt.
after returning with nothing and wasting 87 bullets shooting a rock out of frustration, i decide to head towards the green river crossing. lindsay says it is a smart decision. okay, fine - go wait for me in the back of the wagon. tramp.
after three minutes of heavy petting and sexual awkwardness, we get on the road. from here it is 57 miles to the green river.
inadequate grass. very little water. marissa is passed out and her boob is hanging out. sweet. FIND WILD FRUIT!
we arrive at the green river. it is 400 feet across and 20 feet deep in the middle. this is a serious freaking river right here. no use getting cocky and doing something stupid.
i decide to float the wagon across. shockingly, nothing happens. victory for wagon carol seaver!
from here it is 144 miles to soda springs.
and marissa has dysentery.
and wagg has typhoid. i ask him how he is feeling, and he says that his dad told him that raymond felton looked good in the preseason. should push for some significant playing time this year. marissa is making dump all over the back of the wagon. i make lindsay clean it up. gross.
bad trail - lose 5 days. during those five days, we celebrate the 4th of july in typical UA fashion. wagg and i construct a makeshift baseball diamond, and lindsay gets drunk and hugs most of the guys with shaggy hair and a jeep wrangler that show up. she is such a hug slut. marissa chugs a case of mad dog and asks a group of little kids if they want to know how to "live forever". i apologize to their parents and we continue on the trail.
we arrive at soda springs. from here it is 57 miles to fort hall.
i decide to hunt.
i shoot the shit out of a rabbit and a deer and come back with 75 pounds of food. lindsay is impressed. at this point you can pretty much hear her biological clock ticking.
FIND WILD FRUIT!
one of the ox is injured. marissa is drunk. she starts to cry and says she misses "that guy dexter spanish". was that the guy who just died? we all think about it, and agree that dexter spanish was probably his name. who can be sure.
we reach fort hall. i buy more food for lindsay, who i just noticed has started to put on some serious weight. from here it is 182 miles to the snake river crossing.
impassable trail. lose four days. we break a wagon axle. wagg fixes it.
time to hunt.
i murder a deer with my gun and carry 62 pounds of food back to the wagon. lindsay is even bigger than i remember.
impassable trail. lose three days. bad water. very little water. inadequate grass.
wagg has typhoid. and a fever. this probably will not end well for dear william.
we reach the snake river crossing, which is 1000 feet across and 6 feet deep in the middle. i make a tough call and decide to float the wagon across....
...
.......
....and the wagon sinks. we lose 100 pounds of food, six sets of clothing, and marissa drowns. i would normally be sad and blame myself, but she was pretty wasted when we tipped over. lindsday says she tried to save her, but wagg and i cant remember that ever happening. we think she is lying. oh well, she is in a better place now, and at least shell have ron mexico to keep her company. that was his name, right? ron mexico?
yeah, probably.
from here it is 114 miles to fort boise. wagg is feeling better. lindsay is massive.
one of the oxen has died. doesnt matter to me, as i love to see animals suffer. lindsay says she is having "morning sickness". i laugh and pretend i know what she is talking about.
impassable trail - lose nine days. i tell wagg that nine days sang that awesome song "story of a girl" in 1999, then i remembered that its actually only 1848. my bad. wagg says jeff mcinnis is going to make serious strides this season.
wagg has cholera. a thief comes in the middle of the night and steals 84 pounds of food. that stinks. that 84 pounds of food could have fed lindsay for two days.
wagg has a broken leg from jumping on the trampoline.
wagg has a snakbite. god wants him to die.
we arrive at fort boise. wagg pours out a a bud light on the ground in memory of marissa. i tell him that wasting alcohol is the thing that marissa would have appreciated the least.
from here it is 160 miles to the blue mountains.
bad water, inadequate grass, very little water, bad water, very little water. impassable trail - lose 8 days. wagg says he expects big things out of rashad mccants this year.
FIND WILD FRUIT!
wagg comes across a "summer suit" that belonged to some guy named travis australia (we think) that used to ride with us. lindsay is so fat that we sew it together and use it as a pair of underwear for her. she says she can "feel the baby kicking". thinking "feeling the baby kicking" must be a term for a sweet dunk on NBA jam, i give her a high five and yell "hes on fire!!!!"
very little water. very little water. very little water.
FIND WILD FRUIT!
we find an abandoned wagon with 42 bullets.
time to hunt.
i come back with nothing, but lindsay comforts me by telling me that she thinks i will be a great father. thats pretty random. she must be drinking again.
broken wagon axle. wagg fixes it.
we arrive at the blue mountains. they are beautiful. wagg says they remind him of raymond feltons jump shot. lindsay says that she is pregnant with my child. i wonder what she means.
from here we are given the choice of heading to the dalles or fort walla walla. i decide to think it over while hunting.
after returning with 100 pounds of the finest bear meat this side of the mississippi, i decide that the dalles is the way to go. it seems to me that we would have a better chance if we caulked the wagon and floated it, but its not really an option at the moment.
from here it is 125 miles to the dalles. lindsay says she is having contractions and is worried about the baby. i ask wagg if we have any flavor ice. we do. best day ever!
wrong trail. lose two days. bad water. very little water. no water. water is overrated.
wagg has a broken leg.
wagg has typhoid.
wagg has died.
at the funeral, lindsay tells me that her water has broken. i tell her that she has bigger things to worry about, because there is crap all over her legs. which is disgusting. and smells awful. i tell her to go down to the creek bed and wash that shit off of her. while she cleans herself, i decide to take a nap.
lindsay returns and it appears she has found a puppy. or something. it is covered in goo, and it has a pointy head. on the bright side, lindsay seems to have finally started to lose weight. she says she is tired and needs to rest. i offer to take care of the puppy while she sleeps, but i am actually planning to leave it wherever we are once she falls passes out.
i quickly forget about the new puppy and continue on our way. we arrive at the dalles. from here we can float the wagon down the columbia river or travel down the barlow toll road. i have never been fond of floating the wagon if given a choice, and i am afraid the water will wake up the puppy, who has been a total pain in the ass the last couple of days.
time to hunt.
after coming back empty handed, it appears lindsay has found a human infant, and the puppy is nowhere to be found. she probably traded for it. great, another mouth to feed. i ask what its name is, and lindsay says "morgan, after her father". i tell lindsay she is a total skank for sleeping with two guys named morgan. i didnt even know there were two of us. lindsay is confused and tells me i am acting weird. whatever, skank.
we reach the end of the toll road and the end of our long journey. oregon, USA baby!
lindsay and i share a citrus zima and think back on the time spent on the trail. we talk of memories that will last a lifetime and fondly remember our friends wagg, marissa, and jeremy cleveland.
we will miss you, dear friends, and will think of you often...
...FIND WILD FRUIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Posts
3 comments:
this was the best post i've read of yours to date.. congrats...
his name was bobby rigatoni
are you kidding me, where the hell did you come up with Jeff McGinnis I forgot about him
call 260-422-6821 all times down load the web page friends of the third world all times or order call.
friends.
Post a Comment