The Journey Begins

The laughter echoed through camping area as the four of us drank on through the night.  Five solid hours of binge drinking had caused our group to becoming giddy with storytelling. One by one we went around the circle telling one tale after another, for what seem like hours.  The night was perfect; you could hear the small waves licking the banks as a strong southern breeze was coming in off the reservoir.  As the wind whipped, it began to blow smoke and embers from the fire in every direction.  It was hard tell if my eyes were crying from the laughter or from the fumes of our fire.  I excused myself from the group and stumbled away from the fire to relieve myself, as the drinks began to run right through me. 

As I walked into the darkness, I noticed my trusty partner was with me.  He was short in stature but large in heart.  His name was Scooter, a mixed breed and mutt of sorts, both rat terrier and cattle dog, he made quite the companion.  His oversized ears seemed awkward on his narrow face and his protruding chest with lanky limbs made him seem more like a grey hound then a terrier.  He would never leave my side especially in an environment like this, dark and strange, nestled alongside the reservoir it made for the perfect camp site.  As I finished my business, Scooter and I made our way back to glowing fire.

“Well, I think it’s about time for me to turn in for the night”, Donnie’s wife exclaimed, trying to put together a sentence through the fading laughter.  “Same here, you boys have fun,” my wife added.  “Nah, c’mon you girls stay up with us, we are camping for Christ’s sake!” I argued, knowing that my disagreement would fall on deaf ears.  All Donnie could do was chuckle a bit to himself, he knew arguing with these women would be a dead end for sure.  And indeed it was, within minutes the girls had shimmied off into their tents leaving the two of us and my trusty sidekick alone by the fire.

Now I had been friends with Donnie for some time, meeting him my freshman year of college, it had been an ever evolving relationship for over thirteen years.  We had some great times together, and helped each other out through some pretty rough periods.  I reached over to Donnie, patting him on the back and said, “Ahhh screw em! Guess we’ll just have a guy’s night...  Speaking of guy’s nights, do you remember that time you got so drunk that you destroyed my barbeque pit!”  “I do,” reply Donnie “but you always leave out the part where I woke up then next morning and bought you and even better one… Hell, I even put it together for you!”  This was Donnie in a nut shell; he may do some really idiotic things, but always puts the pieces back together the next day, most of the time, better than they were before.

Donnie and I conversed in the moonlight and as the waning fire began to die out.  Fresh logs were gathered for their ashy demise right as the clock rolled to just past midnight.  Much like a werewolf becomes transformed at the sight of the full moon, so to do I when the clock strikes twelve on a Friday night.  There something about the freedom of the impending weekend mixed with several hours of copious drinking that tends to turn me into a risk taking adventurer.  This night, even more so, with the damp wind blowing, the fire raging, I suggested a “midnight run”. 

As soon as I said those words aloud, Scooter immediately was called to attention.  Like a young cadet at boot camp, Scooter sat straight and rigid, his tail began to wag and his gaze fell upon me.  There was a wanting in his eyes and I could tell without even hearing him speak that he was up for the challenge.  “What’s a midnight run?” Donnie asked.  “Why don’t you ask Scooter, he knows what I’m talking about!” I said sarcastically.  Scooter could barely hold in his excitement, he began to pace back and forth around the fire, his gaze never leaving my face.  “Basically, we go walk through the woods in the dark… right down that trail until we get tired,” I told Donnie. “If you don’t want to join me, Scooter and I can go alone.”  Donnie laughed and said “And let your drunk a*s wander through the woods by yourself, I think not, we wouldn’t see you or Scooter for the rest of weekend.”  Sadly, he was probably right. 

Donnie slowly rose to his feet, arched his back and stretched his arms out above his head.  “Well, if we are going to do this… let’s do this!” he said, reaching for the head light he had stashed away in his folding chair.  I began to feel around in the dark for my flashlight, after a few seconds my hand finally made contact with the cold metal.  As I grabbed hold, I quickly stood up and put it in my back pocket.  “Lets do this!” I said as Donnie, Scooter, and I marched on into the night.