Boom Box Acrobatics

It was early spring and the snow pack was melting fast. Several friends and I headed up the hill hoping to make it to

Grouse Ridge - Photo: Bluebear2

our favorite lake.
We were stopped by a six foot deep snow drift about a mile short of our destination.
Therefore we carried our gear several hundred yards down the hill and set up next to the creek.

That night we sat around a roaring fire enjoying the sound of the trickling water and the millions of stars poured across they sky.

The BBQ chicken never tasted so good and the brandy warmed our souls as the temperature dropped below freezing.

Totally Tom had brought fire crackers and started throwing them into the fire to everyone's surprise. Soon we tired of his horse-play and the embers that were landing on us. He finally stopped, but not before throwing the whole package in at once.

We got the last laugh when a little while later we smelled burning plastic and found that a golf ball sized ember had melted through his sleeping bag and lounge chair.

The next morning we were sitting around wondering if our friends Dan and Vicki were coming up to join us as they said they might. It was nearing noon and we had expected them early.

Suddenly there was a noise up the hill above us, then the sound of something approaching through the bush. Bursting out of the brush came a boom box radio doing end-os down the hill and through the camp site, stopping just short of the creek. This was followed by a gallon jug of cheap wine and shortly thereafter Vicki, who had slipped part way down the hill and slid to the bottom on the bed of pine needles.