Pennsylvania camping: Red Ridge Lake Campground...Another state added to the list of my us visited states, another 3-days crazy journey with jorge bob jeff and jed, another time without my camera, waiting for jorge's pictures.
crazy way to go there: because i could not leave on thursday(long story to be told) i snaked out of my office friday at 6pm and i run to the path. got the path to Newark, jumped there on a train to Plainfield and called Regina to pick me up at the station. She drove me home and there i took jorge's yellow huge jeep, put a sleeping bag and called him right before leaving. i was on the phone following his direction, inside his garage:" Ok, do you see something to shoot potatoes?"- shooting potatoes??? what the hell is this? - "jorge, what are you talking about?" "Yes, a potato cannon. it is a white pipe tall ....." i found it and i grabbed also a spry, one of those used to scent the air on. I was puzzled about that: as i could not believe someone can really shoot potatoes i wondered how a 4-feet(about 120 cm) white pipe and a scent spray could be used in a camping ground, but as i'm fresh at camping and super fresh at american camping i shout my mouth, i stuffed the jeep with it also, got my printed streets indication and got on my way to the middle of nowhere. As supposed i got lost, but i did immediately, at the very beginning, just to start feeling confident on the upshot: only after 10 additional miles i was finally able to get the highways and drive my ass seriously to them. nothing to tell: a jeep on an highway is much worse than my old glorious scooter on the GRA: at least when i left the handlebar it used to go straight and not right, but they shacked in the same way, even though i remember feeling more comfortable with it. 140 miles driven, a quick stop for a snack and to fill in gas, 3 different interstates and so much rain i kept thinking: why did not i stay home and sleep?
finally there: i met jorge jeff and jed at the gas station, couple of miles far from the camping, after about 3 hours driving, i was so freaking happy! was not raining there but they really looked wet. jed jumped on "my" jeep and we headed our way to the tent while i realized that i would never have been able to go there from the station even if had my directions! jed explained me what a potato cannon is and i got astounded about that craziness and he started laughing telling me he did picture my face inside jorge's garage looking for something to shoot potato with: no way for me to understand what the hell he was talking about, and he was right...
cold night, we started up a fire and we talked and drunk: i was not in the mood of drinking (kind of weird), of talking neither, and by the end i was the only sober withing the group. the fire went on for about 5 hours: it only needed half a bottle of kerosene because of the wet wood at the very beginning. Nothing of what has been told around the fire could come out of that but, as normal, different alcoholic states brought up different topics: sex, love, feelings, politic: I felt like i was with my old missing friends and i realized that no matter of where you are and who are your friends, you will always talk about the same things: sounds like : "this is life". They made me feel happy and sad: i got blamed by jed for breaking up with silvia and got hugged by jorge couple of times. our words flew out drawing our own worlds hiding, not that much, our realities: maybe it was not fare i did not get drunk, but i could suck out everything was hidden behind our speeches, just like eating claws. all that night was headed by jeff's cocktails made of the same licker and juices i guess, probably he added some kerosene too!!!! he made it, he chose the name that somehow followed our conversations: extreme pleasure, lesbian experience, hand job, jeff's blue ball. only the last i can't remember it but i'm sure it did not sound that different from the others. the moon showed up in the middle of the night cracking away the rainy clouds and starts twinkled through the high trees, jed fell down couple of time and i took a quick nap around 4am due to my sober state. it was almost dawn when we decided to go sleeping; jed had been snoring the hell out of him when i had to kick him to shut him down: an hard job but i got used to do it.
saturday morning we mostly felt like shit, and we needed a strong breakfast to sponge out the alcohol (not myself this time): taco bell was target. nothing better than a typical american-mexican low fat cheap burrito! you can be really disgusting in the us. saturday afternoon was spent shooting each other, simulating war and attacks: too much fun when sitting out of the car's window, while jorge was driving, i shot the others so bad, without they could not hide anywhere: bb guns can hurt sometimes. dirty, muddy and tired we went eating somewhere next to the middle of nowhere: the Blue Comet Diner! not much for the rest of the night: it rained till next morning and extinguished our fire pitilessly. alcoholess night inside the tent playing cards(hearts!!) and listening at the sound of the rain trying to stretch our legs, i finally got tired of all of that: i waited forever before going sleeping while i just wanted to give it up and leave in the middle of the night heading my way to a different place. the story ends with a session at the shooting ground: 44 magnum desert eagle, .22 caliber, shotgun; i felt like i had my baptism. Sadness flowed inside slowly and after that there was only the coming back home