Naturally all the deciduous trees are bare at this time of year, and many of the mountains reminded me of a balding man who refuses to admit that he's losing his hair. It's like; "Hey buddy...we can see right through your hairline...you're not fooling anyone."
Ok, moving on. I'd posted a year or so ago about a bbq place along Rte 17 which I've been wanting to check out for some time. I'd decided that this trip would be the time. I took the appropriate exit and headed straight for it...
Yep; closed up for the season. Dammit! There was a Subway down the street wich would have to do.
The ride out was uneventful and I made decent time. When I was approaching the Hinsdale exit, I tried snapping a pic to send to Myszka but it didn't come out on my phone, so I tried again when I hit the Olean exit..
Success! I sent it off to Steve with an aminous "MUAH-AH-AHHH" to warn him I'd arrived.
Mike was also making the trip out this weekend and after catching up with him on the phone, I realize I had a bit of time before he'd hit the town border, so I decided to go visit the graves and say my hellos before heading to Mark and Mary's. Seeing as how I was coming off of the highway, I'd hit Gapper first, then Chuck, then Dana.
When I first pulled in to Gapper and Chucks cemetery, something seemed very different. It took me a second to realize what it was, and then it hit me...
They'd chopped all the trees down that line the road! I have no idea why - Mark and Mary said there'd been a lot of tree damage from a wind storm not too long ago, so maybe that had something to do with it, but man...talk about stark!
I made my way to Gapper's grave first, cleared some snow off, left the customary quarter, and popped a Bud Light to share with him. I took a sip and then poured him a solid gulp into the snow...and immediately realized that the beer...which is yellow.....poured into white snow....looks like piss. So now I'm thinking "Great...Gapper's family is going to come here, see footprints walking up to his grave...and think 'What the hell...someone came here to pee on Gapper!?!?!?'"
There was nothing I could do, so I concluded my conversation with Gapper, wished him well, then repeated the process with Chuck; cleared his grave of snow, left him a quarter, peed in the snow (no, not really; it was beer), and made for the exit.
I then headed to Dana's and did the same. Dana still had lots of his quarters on his marker. (Gapper had had a few, but Chuck's always get cleaned off. I don't know who takes them - hopefully it's his family.)
Anyway, it dawned on me here that Dana was never fond of Bud Light, so I apologized to him for not remembering to bring Labatt's for him....and then felt the need to take a pic.
I'm sure the fact that the Bud Light can bore "Champion New England Patriots" on it, did nothing to make Dana feel better about the beer choice I'd brought him. Sorry Man!
From there, it was off to Mark and Mary's. Bryan was there too, and it was great to see all of them. And what happened next is just a small example of how awesome it is to visit these folks; it was as if I was over at a buddy's house here in Mass. Just walk in, simple (but sincere) hugs all around, then just fall into normal chatter, like I'd been here yesterday or the day before. The most normal kind of normal it could be. That kind of thing is rare, and so appreciated.
So there we were, Mom, Dad, and the Sherriff, just shooting the breeze. Then a friend of theirs comes by (named Dave), and we all continued just bullshitting and laughing. After about an hour, Mark looks at me and says "Have you figured out yet that this guy is the local Judge?". I hadn't picked up on it, but once he said that, it made sense, some of the things he'd been saying. So...yeah...hanging out with Mom, Dad, the Sherriff and the Judge. Just a normal day on the Two Mile.
We didn't have any plans for the night since we'd been on the road most of the day, so we just kicked back and...well...you know...
No, these are not all mine. Mike had some, too...
That was the extent of Friday night. We lasted long into the evening and I even managed to hide a number of empties after everyone else had gone to bed.
The next day, Mark took Mike and me to a gun show in Hinsdale, we got to see Myszka and looked at a bnch of guns, parts and assorted stuff. From there we headed over to the gun store Skrobie works at to say hello, pick up some supplies and then headed over to Mickey's for one of his famous steak subs. DELISH!!
Tommy said he owed Zig $5 for the Sabres losing to the B's, and asked me to deliver an IOU to Zig for me. I said I would certainly do that, so here you go Zig; here is Tommy's IOU;
From there, it was back to the house. We'd planned on doing some shooting but it was afternoon already and we were meeting folks at the Post @ 4, so we opted to put off the shooting until Sunday.
When we arrived at the club, we were exchanging hugs as soon as we walked in the door. And more and more friends kept showing up. Drinks were bought, chips were handed to us, hell, there was even a collection on the bar for us!
We did manage to sneak in buying a few rounds, but were yelled at each time because apparently "You're visiting us! You don't buy!" And to drive the point home, Lynner's mom Gloria (a very funny and spry woman) bought us a handful of chips!
Suffice to say that we enjoyed our time there!
Mike was driving and had been watching his intake like a responsible person, which I certainly was thankful for, but it also meant I had to take up the slack with the chips. Something I was also thankful for. :-D
We hadn't planned on staying at the Post too late but you know how that goes. We didn't quite make it to clowing time, but it was definitely dark-thirty when we left. We hung out with Mark and Mary for a while at the house to round out the evening (they fed us again, which is the norm...and is AWESOME!), and then we called it a night.
The next morning, Mike and I took Mark out for breakfast. We hit a place right up the street from them, and bumped into Erin Myszka. She'd mentioned the night before at the Post that she worked at a place called The Robbins Nest, but it hadn't clicked in my dense head, not even when we pulled in and there was a big sign that said Robbins Nest. Oh well, it was great to see her again.
The food was very good - check out this plate that Mark got...
Good lord! There wa a huge bisquit under there, and it was covered in cheeses and gravy (I think it was gravy), and all kinds of yummy goodness. I'm geting hungry just thinking about it.
After that it was back to the house and we took turns setting up targets, blasting them with shotguns, coming inside to warm up (and making sight adjustments to my new shotgun), then back out to blast some more. When we ran out of slugs, Mark broke out one of his .22 handguns so we took turns with that. Mike said he'd never shot a handgun before but he was a natural! Great groupings, and right in the targets. Me? Yeah, not so much. But it was still a blast!
The rest of the afternoon was very low key, as we just hung inside and played some cards. I taught them how to play Texas Hold 'Em, and we were laughing our asses off at some of the betting that was going on. Somehow whenever someone was getting low on quarters, Mark and Mary's house kept getting invoked as the stake bet. Their lack of experience with the card game didn't prevent them from kicking my ass repeatedly, and good fun was had all around.
When it got late, I packed up everything that I wouldn't need for this morning's ride home, and loaded up the Jeep. It gave me one more opportunity for a good pic; their house, lit up with the Christmas lighting that they have on year-round. I love this look!
It was a little after midnight, there was a fresh coating of snow on the ground, and the way the lighting reflected off of that was awesome.
So now I'm back home and looking forward to the next time I'm able to get out there...which will be in a little over 2 months from now, when we're out there for Regatta! That'll be another fantastic time!
It was a great weekend, with great family, and I miss them already.
Ride Hard, Take Chances
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