Bitterness Left Behind

Pickled Think

Not Too Old After All

Church President Becomes Jewish

Everybody Knows

Chick Chat

Weekend at the Valley

Wild Card

Comics & Images

Phat Tat

Utah or Bust


Weekend at the Valley

by andy baillargeon

It was going to be my first trip to Sun Valley, Idaho. For the other three guys just another chapter to add to their book of Sun Valley carnage and beligerence.

One of the others, and myself, were going up to ski race (among other things). The other two were there for just other things. The madness began immediately as we hit the road. I loaded my gear and jumped into the back of the Burban, sharing a seat with a case of Roadweisers. We wouldn’t pick up the fourth for another two hours so there I sat, alone, with the big, beautiful blue box of 12-oz. ecstasy.

The next stop was to Tremonton to pick up the fourth. These three had been old college buddies and I was treated to hours of guzzling road soda and hearing stories of crazy shit that I thought only happened in the movies. They talked about things like deciding the bathroom at the local tavern was too far away and over in the corner seemed like a much better place; or playing pool in the same tavern completely stark-ass naked. It sounded like good ole’ times, and more were to come that weekend.

We reached the last big town before Sun Valley (about an hour and a half away) and decided we needed another 12-pack to make it into town. By this point, everything was a bit hazy and all but three beers from a case, a 12er, and a sixer had been polished off.

When the drive was over, it was time to start the real drinking at the nearest watering hole. We walked into the bar only to find other Parkite racers with the same idea we had. As racers, we find it very important to train before the big race, and train we did. We were chain drinking and trolling for Idaho talent well into the morning, (at least that’s what they tell me).

Morning landed on my face like a Kenworth truck. With my eyes crusted over and my liver on overdrive, I gathered what little I had and met the others at the Burban. It was a quick ride over to the mountain, and after a large French Toast breakfast and a handfull of pain killers, we were feeling like new and ready to rock.

The snow was good, the sun was out, and the cold Idaho air was the sobering remedy our heads needed. After a long day on the hill, we apres skied our way around town. The others decided they were going to make it an early night, but with my limited success trolling the night before, I had to give Sun Valley another go at it. Plus, I wanted to see the town at night without looking through a cloudy drunken fog.

I tried a few of the other bars and met some of the locals who were all quite friendly. After hitting on some guy’s girlfriend for about 20 minutes, I decided a new bar was probably a good idea. I drank what was left in my wallet and actually remember going home.

We left the next afternoon after another good day of skiing, and our mark was made on Sun Valley. “I’ll be back.”

Oh yeah, we only drank an 18-pack on the ride home.