Author: docboese

For those of you who are new to this blog.  I assume that you will start at the first one rather than jumping to the current chapters to see who done it. If you are one of those, I bet you use to partially unwrap and rewrap your Christmas presents and then had to fake surprise when you opened them Christmas day.  You are lying bastards! I would never do this, probably because I was bad at the rewrapping part.  For my current post you will at least need to read the previous one to get the full meaning or you will likely be confused.   

LoriAnne became the Circle the Wagons secretary because she had everybody’s EMAIL addresses and seems to enjoy writing group camping announcements.  For example, our yearly Big Lake adventure is announced by a flurry of EMAILs usually initiated by her.  Below is a pretty much unedited example from our 2007 trip invite with my comments in brackets and italics.

START OF EMAILs

From: LoriAnne

To: Circle the Wagons Group

Ahhhhh…..Summer is here. I realized yesterday that the word “Summer” doesn’t mean as much as it used to. So I started to do a mental list of what “summer” meant to me when I was a child and what it means to me now. I thought I would share that list with you all now.

LoriAnne’s meaning of summer age 10:

1. NO SCHOOL

2. Sleeping in

3. Playing with friends

4. NO SCHOOL

5. Camping

6. Playing with friends

7. Staying up late

8. NO SCHOOL

9. All the TV I could watch

10. No homework

11. Not having to get out of my pajama’s all day

12. NO SCHOOL

LoriAnne’s meaning of summer age 29:

1. More traffic on Friday’s because of stupid people taking their stupid families on weekend trips.

2. Rush Hour with no A/C in my car.

3. Dealing with 3 weeks of humid heat or biting the bullet and getting an A/C for my house so my power bill is higher than the winter

4. Due to NO School, having to add daycare for my 10 year old.

5. Having to fight my 10 year old to go to bed at the same time he went during the school year because he has to go to daycare.

6. Camping.

7. Trying to live vicariously through my Son’s eyes to try and enjoy summer.

8. Allergies .

9. Putting out an extra bowl of water for the dog so she doesn’t overheat during the day.

10. More traffic

Reading my lists makes me think of two things:

1) I need to invent a time machine to go back in time 19 years and tell myself NEVER grow up and

2) I think I should give my son homework for the summer so when he becomes my age he won’t miss the good ole’ days of carefree summers and he won’t become a cynic about the whole season. 

I did also notice that there is one thing on both lists that was a positive. Camping. (I’m guessing that some of you just now realized the point of my email and for those of you who are kind of dense (Tom) I will spell it out…B-I-G-L-A-K-E.  That’s right boys and girls we are one month and counting to the single most anticipated event of the year. (Wow! Are we really that pathetic?)  So we need to hammer out some details and make some announcements:

1. Due to being on the verge of a breakthrough on finding the cure of Cancer/AIDS/and Herpes (cause that is about the only reason why anyone would miss this event) our Camp President will not be able to attend this years Big Lake event.

2. Due to the recent out break of the Asian Bird flu, we ask that no one bring any Asian birds.
3. Please please please, if you have a camp name and shirt, please bring them and wear them for the main camp so we can rub it in to those who don’t have shirts or names and so we can remember each other’s names.  Sorry Rufus [Tom is Alan’s half brother and Rufus is his dog, a very intelligent and distinguished looking German short  haired pointer] does not have a shirt yet, but he can always wear his shoes to prove he has style.  [This refers to Tom buying dog shoes for Ruffie so that he could run in the sand without hurting his feet.  Rufus wore them, but was obviously embarrassed for his master.]
4. We need volunteers for scoring enough sites, i.e. people that can join the Boese’s on Wednesday night.

 [Judy and I always go up a day early.  This is mainly because no one ever seems to think about reserving camping space at Big Lake for the next season’s campout till it’s too late.   This means that the sites we get are first come first serve.  Even though there are usually sites available up till Friday evening, they are not together and not close to the lake.  Which means that Judy and I must go up early, usually Weds. evening and snag and pay for as many sites as possible.  This is not technically legal, so we put up tents, camping chairs, coolers, and park our pickup in the camping space next to ours.  All this is so that the cool people can make a fashionably late entrance to the camp and still have a space.  This would be OK with us but the cool people never seem to make it when they say they are going to and the most of the camp ground hosts at places like this are wise to the fact that the campground is not really occupied especially when the tent blew down in the middle of the night.  And they know who is doing this as there is our trailer without a vehicle to tow it with.  This shit really pisses me off, so I make a big stink about how I am not going to do this ever again.  How come some of the cool people can’t seem to get their asses up to Big Lake on Weds. night to help us?  Alan did get the hint one year, setting up an entire camp by himself with a tent and coolers and chairs and firewood.  Then left and didn’t come back till Sat. afternoon.  So, who did the gun carrying campground host bug about the obviously unused site? Me of course.  I guess I just have one of those faces.]

5. Could everyone please bring 2 cans of bug spray for a communal attack of terror and genocide on the mosquito population.

6. Since last year was the Big Lake skip year for the decade, Wade and Paul will need to get the official camp names on Saturday.  Please start thinking of ideas for their official names for the camp vote.

[Good move LoriAnne, this will give people plenty of time to come up with nasty and disgusting camp names.]

Details to hammer out:

Please respond with answers to the following information:

1. What kind of site will you need (tent or camper)

2. Estimated arrival day (Wed, Thurs, Fri, Sat). 

[There had better be one of you fuckers who show up on Weds. cause I am not going to do it this year.]

3.Why Brown-n-serve, was she not good enough for fresh sausage meat? 

[This one requires a bit of explanation.  When Alan was between his first and second wives, we met him at Hoodoo Ski bowl during Winter Fest.  He had parked his camper in a spot where he could hook up to electric probably because he had brought a date and wanted extra heat for naked fest.  His mistake was in leaving his garbage in a container outside of the camper for all, including LoriAnne, to see.  Inside of the box was a package of brown and serve sausage with a used condom on top of the box.  LoriAnne will never let go of this one.   Wouldn’t surprise me in the least that when Alan departs this world that she buys his tombstone just so she can put: “Here lays Alan a.k.a. old brown and serve.  Beloved father of 2 or 5 and possibly more.  A really good friend and too big to flush”. ]

4.Why doesn’t Tom have a girlfriend?

  [This is a question we all asked ourselves. Tom is good looking, has a well-paying job, drives a nice “pickup” truck, does not smell funny and has a great dog, the afore mentioned Rufus.  We are also pretty sure that Tom has not known a woman in the biblical sense.  We are not so sure about Rufus.  We are also not so sure about Tom and Rufus, but that is too disgusting even for me to go there.]     

5.Why is the plural for Moose, Moose?

[No special meaning here.  Random thoughts just pop into my daughter’s head.]

Thank you for your time in this matter

Your Camp Secretary

Camp Easy

 [This is LoriAnne’s camp name, as her father I don’t want to know the details on how she earned it and beside what happens in a Vegas elevator stays in a Vegas elevator.] 

From Judy

To Circle the Wagons Group.

We just got back from a camping trip with Alan, Tom and Rufus.  Tom announced that he now has a serious girlfriend, but strangely did not produce a picture.  However, Camp Safety? and Camp Toy (Camp Safety’s? wife) was also there and confirmed that in fact he does seem to have a girlfriend and that she likes to eat veggies.

[I am not sure I believe it as she sounds too good to be true.  Tom might just be hiding deeper in the closet with Rufus but as for now we must take him at his word.  You can tell by LoriAnne’s next EMAIL that she is a little dubious as well.]

From LoriAnne

To Circle the Wagons

I would like to extend my apologies to Tom. See I composed my last email before I heard that he now has a girlfriend. I would just like to make my opinion noted that as happy as everyone seems about these new events in his life, I do not think that a blow-up doll constitutes a real girlfriend. But if this is who he has chosen we will all embrace her with open arms, and we will all try not to pop her with our fingernails.

[As my darling daughter did not get much response to her first EMAIL she sent out this one a week later]

From: LoriAnne

To: Circle the wagons group

3 weeks and counting down:

Things a person can accomplish in 3 weeks:

1. Write a short story (or if you don’t need sleep write a great novel)

2. Read 3 books

3. Completely overhaul a car

4. Teach a dog to sit and possibly mind

5. Drive across country

6. Train for a marathon

7. Fully quit smoking

8. REHAB

9. Run for a Political office seat

10. Color your hair 15 different colors

11. Heal from plastic surgery

12. Get cured from the Clap

13. Take an at home course that Sally Struthers talks about and the list could go on and on and on.

Things we need you to do in 3 weeks:

1. Let us know when you are planning on arriving at Big Lake

2. Let us know what type of camping spot you desire (tent, camper, 2 tent spots)

3. Put in any special requests or comments

4. Volunteer to help hold sites

5. Plan and Pack

See, not much. We really need to get an idea of who is coming when and the types/amounts of spots we will be needing to save.

For example:

Paul, Carly [LoriAnne’s friend] and Children will be arriving early afternoon on Friday 7/20

Wade and Aaron will be arriving evening of Friday 7/20 as will LoriAnne and Bob [Carly’s husband] 

[Why is Carly driving up with LoriAnne’s husband and LoriAnne is driving up with Carly’s husband?   Do I want to know?]

We will need 3 tents spots and room in the Boese camper for 2 adults and a toddler

Okay so with that said are there any special requests? OOOOHHHH OOOHHH I have one (but I think I’ve used up my requests by going off on needing info from everyone, so I will shut up now)

WARNING: Emails will continue until we have a reasonable idea of who’s coming when.  When we are down to the 2-week mark phone calls will start.  When we are down to the 1-week count stalking will start.  And if we don’t have an idea the day of, well those who show up and need a space will be in the selection pool for sacrifices to appease the rain gods.  We will start with the virgins and move down the list from there (Wow Tom how do you always get the short end of the stick? And Alan, lucky you, will be last.  I think you should get my camp name)

From: Carly

To: LoriAnne

I am going to go up with Paul, so whenever he is planning on getting there. I need to have a tent spot. Thanks.

From: LoriAnne

To: Circle the Wagons Group

WOOOOWHOOO! My threats worked on someone!!!!

From: Tom

To: LoriAnne

CC: Circle the Wagons Group

Woman, I didn’t even blink twice: I just need a parking spot for my truck.  Heheheheh.

[What to hell is Heheheheh mean?  Is Tom romantically involved with his pick-up?  Word of advice for ya there big fella, let the tail pipe cool a bit.]

From: LoriAnne

To: Tom

CC: Circle the Wagons Group

Are you saying that I’m not intimidating?

From: Tom

To: LoriAnne:

CC: Circle the Wagons Group

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.     I believe from my 6 months of woman experience now

that I recognize this type of a question.   This is what you call LOADED.  So what has worked in the last 6 months I will try now.  I am sorry, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

P.S.  Hey guys, what do you think, not bad for a rookie

From: Judy

To: Tom

CC: Circle the Wagons Group

Keep it up…you do okay for a rookie…but please note…others far more experienced have tried the same tactic, and they will tell you..once you start down the slippery slope, you will be shoveling doo somewhere because what guys see as subtle avoidance women know is just more BS!

 [You better not be talking about me woman!]

From: Tom

To: Judy

CC: Circle the Wagon’s Group

Good to know my stunning queen.

From: LoriAnne

To: Judy

CC: Circle the Wagon’s Group

I really hate to say this…but you two could learn a lot from him…

 [You two?  Is she referring to Judy and I?  What is she saying here?  That I don’t know how to compliment women?  I know all about compliments and fore play.  I will admit it was a little rough at the start.  Lines like “get in the truck bitch” and “Hey babe, do you want to rub pee things” usually did not go over well, but I learned.]

From: Bruce

To: Circle the Wagons Group

“MY STUNNING QUEEN”!!!!!!  OMG!  Not only is that the stupidest most contrived BS compliment I have ever heard, and the bitch seems to be buying it!!!!

From: LoriAnne

To: Bruce;

CC: Circle the Wagon’s Group

You sure that it didn’t work?? Judy did you swoon? If she swooned, then it worked.

From: Judy

To: LoriAnne

CC: Circle the Wagons Group

I swooned.

 [Well there goes 50 years of my sexual education down the outhouse hole.]

From: Bruce

To: Judy

Hey babe, want to rub pee things?

END OF EMAILS

My nephew, Alan, is more like a kid brother.  I was still in HS when he was born and did my share of babysitting over the years.  I kid him that I even changed his diaper, but I never did, I just let the little bastard cry.  He has been trying to get even with me ever since.  Somewhere and   at sometime we began camping with Alan and over the years others have joined us in these adventures.  The regulars include my youngest daughter LoriAnne, her friends Mark and Jen, their friends Bobby and Jeff, and Alan’s extended family and friends which changes from time to time depending on whom he is dating or married to at the moment.  Also, a common participant in these campouts was Alan’s father, Bill, who was my sister’s first husband.  I have taken a lot of shit from my sister and mother over this, but when they were married he treated me like his kid brother, especially when it came to outdoor adventures like shooting guns or white water rafting on air mattresses with only one life preserver that we put on his dog.  Over the years these people have become our extended family.  Jen even told Judy that she was her daughter, who was born 10 years and one contraction ahead of her twin sister LoriAnne.  I remember a snow camp when we put three RVs in a semi-circle next to a snow bank then extended all the awnings out toward the middle and spent a lot of time trying not to freeze around a fire pit built by one of Alan’s temporary fathers-in-laws out of a 55 gallon drum.  Over that weekend the fire pit slowly melted its way through the snowpack and into the asphalt underneath. I believe this was the start of another Circle the Wagons tradition, making sure that when we leave a campsite, we leave no traces of our having been there, including wiping all fingerprints.

Every year during the third weekend in July we go camping at a cascade lake.  We tried several but eventually settled on Big Lake near Hoo Doo Ski Bowl.  Big Lake is fairly shallow so that it actually warms up during high summer enough that water sports like swimming, water skiing and jet skiing can be done for an extended period of time without the aid of a wet suit.  The campsites themselves are all right next to the lake and are nicely large.  If we arrive early enough, we can take over three or four sites, putting the party in the middle site thereby reducing the disturbance to anybody stupid enough to camp next to us.  Big Lake is also in an off-road ATV area, such that there is a maze of dusty trials and roads that you can legally ride right out of camp.  The lake is only about 20 miles from Sister’s OR which is the Jackson, WY of OR and has one of the few California bakeries I have found in my beloved state.  In short it is not perfect in any single detail but is nearly perfect in aggregate.  If it only had fishing Wes would show up more often.

Occasionally someone tries to fish at Big Lake.  Sometimes we even catch one or two.  Then there was the year when Alan led us on a hike to a lake just a few miles from camp that was supposed to have humongous  German Brown trout.  I have never caught one of these, nor have I ever seen one, but I have heard about them for years.   The next day at dawn Alan was banging on the door to my RV wanting to go.  Alan had not been up at dawn in years unless it was from partying all night the day before and not going to bed.  Damn I thought, there really must be fish there.  I quickly slipped on my sweatpants grabbed my hiking boots and was out the door.  There were five of us going on this epic, all agog with anticipation, as none of us had ever seen a German brown, and none of us had ever seen Alan catch a fish either.  We drove the five miles to the trail head and started hiking on that crisp morning to the lake which was supposed to be less than two miles in.   About an hour later with our legs burning from the climb we found the lake which was maybe 10 acres in size.  Although there was easy access to the lake at the trail head, there were a couple of tents there with the occupants still asleep so we tiptoed around the lake a bit, till the trail petered out and then started to climb over logs, through the vine maple, down into gullies and up the shear other side of them trying to find any suitable place where we could wet our lines.  A few hundred yards of this we finally found a spot where we could all spread out and cast in.  The dripping blood from the scratches would only serve to attract the voracious German Browns and besides the mosquitoes could just lap it up from our wounds without having to make new holes in our flesh.  

I put on a rooster tail lure and cast out as far into the water as I could and with growing anticipation reeled it slow back to shore.  Nada.   After a few more tries I switched lures.  Nada again.  I then went to power bait. It had worked at Henry’s Lake.  Another half hour went by.  Nada.  Then I tried worms, salmon eggs, and worms with salmon eggs, and worms with power bait, and worms with both power bait and salmon eggs.  Nada, nada, nada.  About that time, I heard a gasping noise.  Alan had stripped down to his BVD’s and had waded waste deep into the freezing water casting out even farther than I was.  He had brought us to this hell hole, and he was going to catch one of those mythical monster German Brown’s or die of hypothermia trying. 

Just when we all were about to give up, it happened.  Over to my left there was a movement.  Out of the tent came this tall blonde Teutonic goddess, bare beam and buck ass naked into the sunshine.  She waded out into the water with her perfectly tanned large boobs and began to bathe.  I averted my eyes from her while I tried to wrestle the binoculars from Alan’s father-in -law of the moment, but the old fart was too quick for me and a stingy bastard as well.  Soon the moment was over.  But on the way back to the car parked at the trail head, I realized that Alan had been right about the German Brown’s.   

One of the activities I enjoy the most at Big Lake is sailing.  I bought my sailboat for $50 from Alan who bought it from his dad for $50 who bought it at a garage sale for $50.  You can’t get much of a sailboat for $50, but then again, all three of us were not great shakes as sailors.  I don’t know who built the boat, but I suspect it was a failed attempt to diversify by the same people who make those plastic-coated Styrofoam beer coolers.  They probably got the idea when one of their coolers fell out of a party boat then drifted off in a stiff breeze.  Unlike most real sailboats you must lay down in it to avoid being hit by the spar or whatever you call that thing that holds the bottom of the triangular sail.  It’s the thing that swings around in every sailing movie ever made to knock the smart ass or the psychopathic killer into the water.  Laying down also lowers the center of gravity which makes the boat more stable.  This is a really good idea in a boat with two inches of free board but makes it a little tricky as you are steering with the rudder handle over your head and hanging on to the end of the rope attached to the spar thingy with the other hand.  To turn you push the rudder handle all the way to one side and as the boat comes around the spar passes over the top of your head, hopefully without knocking you unconscious.  Then you deftly switch the rope to your other hand, grab the rudder with the freed-up hand and straighten out.  All this needs to be accomplished in about three seconds without the rope getting entangled on your arm or have the rudder swing over and out of your reach behind the boat.  Over the years I got better and better at this, often spending two or three hours at a time floating out in the middle of the lake hoping to be rescued and towed back to shore.            

At Big Lake we go by our camp names.  Often the inspiration for such great ideas comes from the most common of events.  For example, the theory of gravity from the apple falling on Newton’s head, evolution after Darwin was visited by his mother-in-law and the big bang theory whose inspiration had something to do with the morning after a beer and bangers binge.  Like these great advances in science, camp names were inspired by such a common event. 

Alan and Bobbie were having an argument. Both must feel that they are in charge, which is OK with me.  If  you want to be in charge go right ahead, that way I can enjoy nature the way it was meant to be enjoyed; sitting  by the camp fire in my sweats on a lounge chair with a cigar in one hand and scotch in the other.  I don’t remember what the argument was about, but sometime during it Bobby said that she was the “Camp Bitch” and because of that Alan needed to do it her way, to which Alan responded that he was the “Camp Bastard”.  The next year at Big Lake Judy presented them with tee shirts with their self-anointed camp names embroidered on them.  After a few drinks several other members of the circle of the wagons group around the campfire that night started feeling left out and wanted shirts and camp names of their own.  After a few more drinks we started naming each other.  I became “Camp Crack” due to my unfortunate disability of having a flat ass and my refusal to wear suspenders.  “Hey Bruce, you need a new butt, that one’s cracked”, is one of the many insults I have had to endure over the years.

Wes having inherited the same disability became “Camp Crack Jr”.   Judy became “Camp Aboot” as she has a tendency, for no apparent reason to talk, like a Cannook.  Jen’s moniker was “Camp Barbie” as she was never seen without her make up or in a non-color coordinated outfit.   Marc was “Camp Bum” as he tended to wander when inebriated, eventually showing up with firewood that he has taken from other campers’ sites, probably without their knowledge.  Jeff was “Camp Hunk”.  Alan’s dad was “Camp Safety”.  Apparently, he lost his death wish after my sister divorced him.  But that name later got changed to “Camp Safety?” after he fell off a fruit picker’s ladder, he purchased at a garage sale and suffered a concussion and separated shoulder.   Even the dogs got camp names.  They were all called “Camp Dog” and never got tee-shirts but they didn’t seem to care as long as they were fed and petted.

Over the years more people started camping with us which required that we have officers and elders and such.  Why we needed these things I have no clue.  Bobbie nominated and elected herself president for life.  Which was fine with us.  What her duties were, was entirely up to her and she did enjoy the title. Sadly, all good things must pass.  Alan’s dad passed away; Alan divorced thus losing several of his in-laws from the group. Jen and Bobbie had a falling out over some silly shit and Jen/Mark left the group. LoriAnne moved to Arizona. Over the years it got harder to get enough campsites next to each other.  None of us seemed to have the time or energy to keep it going. My camp crack tee-shirt got folded up and is laying forgotten and forlorn in the bottom of a dresser drawer or I might have torn it up and used it for a grease rag. I even gave the sailboat away.  The world had moved on once more, although Bobbie still retains her office and title.