Here at Blast we try to keep every day as fun as it can be.  Unfortunately the hurdles and pitfalls of running a business can take its toll on even the best of us.  When that happens there is nothing you can do but, get away and have some fun even if it’s only for the day.

Sunday we took a ride out to friends at Peak Ski’s compound to ride some quads, drink some beer and relax.  Bobby and I spent the first half of the day riding around the woods on the quads.  The trees ripping past our faces as we tore down little paths that are etched into the sides of the hills by the quads like some mechanical dog pack run a muck hell bent on dominating everything in its way.  We tore through the woods chasing each other like demons on a soul hunt trying to pass in the tightest places possible and every once in a while a quad turning on its rider like a bull on a cowboy.  Sometimes the bull wins sometime the rider wins.

Today was not to be our day Bobby and I both lost.  We were on a ripper mission with one of the neighbors through the woods on our way to a wide open field for some wheelies and random high speed passes.  At some point Bobby got separated for us and I decided to turn back to see if I could find him.  On my way back up this hill that was rutted out worse than a Penn Dot highway the drive chain blows off the quad and attacked itself like a two headed snake and broke in half.  Thankfully at that moment Bobby comes storming over the hill to the rescue.  There is a tow strap in the quad Bobby is riding and we attach it to both quads and start towing the wounded monster back to the house.

As we tear back through the woods this time a lot slower and with much less enthusiasm we learn very quickly how much harder it is for two quads to get through the narrow passage ways of the trails when they are attached like a mother and a new born with an umbilical cord. A narrow miss here a quick jerk of the handle bars there.  We make it back to the house with minimal collateral damage to both quads and riders.  I manage to walk away completely unscathed while Bobby was not so lucky.  A minor miscalculation later and Bobby, the neighbor and both of their quads become entangled in what turned looks like a two drunks running into each other at some cruel mechanical dance party.  The neighbor and his stead prevail.  Bobby’s foot however does not.

Limping back into home base Bobby sits down and removes a shoe he should have probably left on to find what appears to be a second ankle growing out of the side of his foot.  Could it have been his recent trip to Mexico causing this?   Could it have been the paint chips he ate as a child?  Or was it the collision at the bottom of the driveway? Either way the quickest solution was some pain medicine and a couple of drinks, he quickly forgot about the pain in his foot.  There was still more fun to be had a Bobby wasn’t trying to miss out.

More drinks are consumed and the shit talking starts at this point no one and no topic is safe.  You know those skeletons in your closet the funny ones like the time you got so drunk you shit yourself yeah guess what…. Welcome to front street population you!  Card games quickly turn into throwing cards at each other.  Throw card turns in to throwing empty beer cans.  Then like that hurricane the news anchors have been warning about all day on the news the storm comes to shore.  A wrestling ensues.  This one pits Gretchen against Jeremy.  Some pushing some shoving and a solid dose of heckling from the on looking crowd and then PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSST!  A can of Rockstar Energy Drink explodes on the two of them like champagne after the Indy 500.  Bobby, Jimmy, and Calvin hose the two of the down like a pissed off neighbor trying to separate two dogs on their front lawn.  More cans of sugar free energy drink soak the five combatants and the surrounding areas.  I duck for cover like a war correspondent trying to stay out of the line of fire while getting that crucial shot.  Rockstar to the left of me, flying beer cans to my right.  I dodge each sides responding attack.  I am in the shit and the shit sprays energy drink like DDT.

Jeremy gets punched in the nose.  That’s it game over.  With Jeremy’s trip to the bathroom to see if the upper half of his nose was still in line with the lower half he concedes to defeat.  Everyone is done.

Bobby can’t walk he now hobbles.  Gretchen and I pull the car up like a that cart on the football field and load Bobby into the back.  The ice he has been holding on his foot isn’t helping.  We deliver him to his crib and then the two of us are off to the bar for DJ Nugget’s birthday.

More drinks.  We walk into the bar late around 12:30 or 1:00 the party is going hard.  Nugget is whammered and his speech is already starting to slur.  The rest of the night calms down.  Gretchen and I enjoy some drinks relaxing after our day of relaxation.

Broken chains = Early days.

The watermelon had it coming.

Thanks to Rockstar for the ammo!

We have a child like obbession with fire.  (Note the sweet flaming plastic drip.  It burns when that fork pees)

INCOMING!!!!

Ground Zero.

Hey Nugget! Quit drooling on my shoulder they’re taking a picture.

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