Day 12-Viva Las Vegas

The most important part of our trip to Vegas was that the first dollar I spent (well technically it was Evan's dollar since I only had a 20) won me 150 bucks. I'm down with any Vegas trip if it goes like this. From there it was right to the bar for doubles for everyone including Will and Tandee, Evan's friends from Scottsdale. We wandered around the strip, drunk on the ability to go anywhere with open containers. So much pandering, so much indulgence. Vegas, is like the village Pinochio finds himself after being stranded at sea.

Day 11: Venice Beach

One of my favorite themes found across this road trip has been how much we've been playing in the water. Swimming in Teton, drenched by the Seattle fountain, sunning on the shores of Lake Tahoe, and cruising down the Pacific coast in Big Sur. Visiting the beach yesterday, we were immediately bummed we didn't have our suits on, but also knew that we really needed to give ourselves time and prep for an entire beach day.

And we basically became the poster children for excellent beach days. Laying out our towels to play in the ocean and body surf on the waves. Evan caught the best one, cresting at least 10 feet high. After waging our war against the waves we ran back to our towels, basking in the sun, deepening our tan, and reading magazines amidst the clammer of countless other people beginning their own war against the tides. We buried Margaret in the sand and ate fruit and nuts. This point in the trip, our bathing suits had become a second skin, and it was no small disappointment to leave our costal paradise and join the throngs on a stationary LA highway.

Ice Apocalypse

Due to events in our LA hotel room, now would be a good time to explain the concept of 'Icing Bros'. This is a phenomenon tracing its roots to the frat houses across our great nation, involving Bros and Smirnoff Ice, a malt beverage that tastes a bit like Squirt. Its a girly drink and, aside from its 4.5% alcohol content, completely worthless. A bro will hide a Smirnoff Ice somewhere another bro will find it, such as under a pillow, toiletry bag, etc. When that bro finds it, he has to drop to 1 knee and chug it, no matter when or where. But, and this is a big but, you can counter ice. If your bro has just 'iced' you and you have a Smirnoff Ice on your person, you can counter ice your bro and he has to take a knee and drink both. Originally, I was going to post some YouTube vids of bros getting iced, but they're as pathetic as you'd expect lo-res vids glorifying binge drinking to be.

Of all people, it was MD who introduced this hilarious concept to us. And it got real the night of Day 10. Nick and Margaret DD'd Evan and I back to the hotel after a long night of drinking. Getting ready to climb in bed, Evan lays his head on the pillow, only to find his hand lying on a 24 oz. MD sprang out of bed: 'You just got iced bro! Take a knee!'. I'm laughing pretty hard at Evan until I rest my head on the pillow and find a 24 oz underneath and my face turns to shock. The ice in our room is so intense.

Well, Evan and I will not this act of aggression go unanswered. The next night, I had to leave the group early to desperately catch up on Peace Corps emails. But before I get back to the room I stop to pick up a six pack and prepare an Ice Apocalypse. After Nick, MD, and Evan get back from the bars, they get a hint of what's about to come when Nick discovers an Ice under his bedsheets.

The mood next morning is tense. Margaret is convinced there is an Ice under anything that is capable of covering. After getting iced once more from his luggage, Nick immediately runs downstairs to pick up an Ice in the lobby. Evan is iced from his laptop case while Margaret refuses to change, convinced that she's felt an Ice in her luggage. It's not there but is in her backpack and she's finally forced to drop a knee. Nick finds on in his toiletry bag, but counter ices Josh with the one he just picked up. Mysteriously we're still missing one at the conclusion of the Ice Apocalypse and we leave glad to know that soon a member of housekeeping will be forced to drop a knee.

Day 10: Escape to LA

We woke up to the sound of cars peeling out. It was early, but groggily we emerged from our tent to begin considering the day. While getting my yoga mat, I'm struck with how bad I must smell due to the flies surrounding me. I share with Margaret that a shower will be a relief for me and my ego and she informs me its not just me. At this point I realize there are flies surrounding her as well, in fact, there are flies everywhere. We break camp in 20 minutes, faster than ever, to get out of the Den of Flies.

Margaret was able to use her mighty PriceLine abilities (seriously, they're incredible) to get us a room at the incredible Hotel Bonaventure, a beautiful 4 star in downtown LA featured in Die Hard, Lethal Weapon, and Logan's Run. This hotel was space age, a cylinder surrounded by four circular towers which in turn were surrounded by 3 glass elevators apiece that shot up for spectacular views of the city.

Refreshed we piled back into the car in search of food and beach. We devoured some awesome Carribian food before heading down to the Venice Beach Boardwalk, gawking at street performers, crazies, exhibitionists on Muscle Beach, and an American Apparel factory outlet store. We walked up to a woman sitting out on the beach in hopes of socializing her three 8 week old puppies. The next hour was spent on the ground paralyzed with laughter as ferocious puppies licked our faces and brought our ears into submission.

That night we met up with Alex in the hip and trendy part of LA and headed to Malo, a grommet taco and tequila bar. I gorged on tacos like ceviche lime and barbacoa pickle while drinking tequila and Tecate, while Animal Collective played on repeat. Walking back towards Alex's, we dropped into 4100, a quiet bar with heavy draped curtains, buddha statues, and lots of candles. Nick and MD met back up with us here and drove us home.

Days 8 and 9: Big Sur

The Matrix is not a powerful driving machine, but when you're hundreds of feet above sheer drops into the ocean, switchbacking up and down the coast, going from 50 to 20 back to 50 you don't really feel at a loss. The drive was beautiful; uninterrupted views of the ocean as you raced downhill plunging into windswept cliffs. We caravanned with Adam's car to go camping along Big Sur and take the universally lauded drive down the coast to San Simeon. Within minutes of setting up camp we ran to the ridge where we could watch the flaming sun disappear behind silhouetted mountains. Now it was time to party. We had a good ol' campfire feast, hot dogs, corn, pork and beans and a lot of alcohol.

Adam heard good things about a place called Limekiln beach. so we headed back up for a hike. This area felt enchanted, like a fairy tale, as the hike unveiled. We came upon a crystal clear pool beneath a bubbling brook that seemed to be missing its crooning mermaid. It led us to the ruins of massive iron and stone kilns, silent and immovable. We even watched a tree fall beside our path, as if urging us to leave while we still could.

Once again we drove down the Pacific Coast racing convertible mustangs along the ocean. And when we finally found a pull off for a beach, we were finally able to touch our feet in the Pacific. We raced against tides and walked along the beach. Afterwards we ate seafood at an oceanside cafe. We played along Big Sur late and didn't get to our campground until well after dark