Snoots and I rolled down to DC/VA for an elongated holiday weekend, which will be accounted for in two posts. This one will be very picture-driven. I don’t want to give too much away about the second one, but here’s eine große Spoiler: it involves this blog’s eponymous dog, his pup pal Clyde, and varmint genocide.
By Friday evening, everyone had arrived. The All-Star roster: myself, Keller, Chris Dolan, his newly-pregnant wife Carol, Eric, and John. Dolan and his crew rolled in with prodigious amounts of fine meats and cheap beer:
We drank well, and ate even better:
Dolan ate crabs. No one joined him, ever.
The quality of eating got so out-of hand that I actually got up early to help cook:
As Snoots looked on:
One day Keller’s brother-in-law (also named John) came down from DC to finish his piece de resistance, the outdoor shower. It involved lowering the top onto it from above, using the tractor:
Clearly, my presence was essential to the entire operation.
On the 4th, the six of us got up early and drove an hour or so to hike Old Rag Mountain. You read that correctly: Old Rag Mountain.
Thankfully, this was before temperatures got ridiculously out of hand. It was still hot enough to warrant a dip in the nearby stream, of course:
Keller and I got left early on the 5th; left to our own devices, Keller gave Clyde a summer grooming…
… while I did some outdoor editing: