The Dirty Thirty

09/18/2007

The Dirty Thirty

This past weekend the Atlwake crew went to the promised land, the Flint River, to celebrate ODB’s passage into old age, aka XXX, aka 30.  Five years from now, I’m certain my view of old age will change, however, I’m not old, yet.  I arrived straight from Birmingham early Friday evening just as Paul, Rhett, Diamond, and company, were pulling in from Atlanta.  The rest of the twenty-five person group would dwindle in throughout the night.

We quickly loaded up ODB’s boat and took off for an afternoon session of epicness on what can only be described as miles of endless butter.  I took the first set and reserved a place in history for “worst set ever.”  I’m not sure why I decided to ride first, but from now on I’m going to sit in the boat for at least 30 minutes before I get in the water.  Maybe that will give me time to calm down.  After my set Rhett rode and established the tone for the weekend dropping all kinds of spins and mobes with that style that he is known for.  Paul took the next set and did the biggest heel three that I have ever seen.  He cut in like it was the last time he would ever step onto a board and booted that three so far into the flats that I almost passed out.  Don’t let his calm demeanor fool you the Viper will strike.  Immediately thereafter, Paul announced his retirement from wakeboarding as he could never duplicate such an epic aerial maneuver with a board strapped to his feet.  After Paul’s set Mother Nature decided to throw some lightning bolts around so we packed it up and headed in.

For dinner we headed to the local Mexican joint for the best Fajita Chicken Quesadillas known to man.  After crushing the first basket of chips the waiter came to take drink orders. 

Me “I’ll have the 32oz Bud Light.”
Waiter “You have id?”
Me “No.”
Waiter “I need id.”

As I said this I looked over at ODB, who was sitting next to me, and saw him take out his wallet.  What happened next only happens in the dreams of 15 year olds trying to purchase alcohol.  ODB handed me his id in plain view of the waiter.  I handed the id to the waiter who closely examined it, nodded, and then handed it back to me.  I handed ODB his id, he put it back in his wallet, and the waiter continued taking orders.  My first thought was, “there is no way that just happened,” but it did, and it makes the rest of dinner uneventful.  When I say uneventful I mean if that word means being chased by a waiter because you walked out with a margarita glass is nothing new.

Around midnight most of the rest of the crew arrived and we took a cruise up the river in hopes of spotting a gator.   But this was no ordinary cruise.  It turns out the deckboat we were on had headlights specifically designed to blind the driver when activated.  For obvious safety reasons, Viper killed all lights, interior and exterior, and chose to navigate solely by the stars aided only by a 4D cell Maglight, which also doubled as the gator spotter.  Unfortunately no gators were spotted before we got a call from Brandon that he was almost to the house from Atlanta.

For some reason, we decided that we absolutely had to return to the house before Brandon arrived.  At the time we turned around to meet Brandon, we were about 6 people over the maximum capacity of the boat, had 4 life jackets on board, it was midnight, we had no lights, the Flint River is a landmine of stumps, shallow water, and floating debris, and the Viper had never navigated the Flint River and has a reputation for hitting objects in the water.  We were currently doing 40 mph and we were riding dirty.  Best booze cruise of my life.

The next morning we woke up and my parents had cooked a breakfast fit for a king.  Eggs, Grits, Sausage, Waffles, three types of fruit, Milk, OJ, and coffee topped the table and I can’t think of a better way to ever start a morning: at my house, with my parents and closest friends, over a good meal.  Saturday was having a kick ass start and it would definitely continue.  The Viper arose at 7.30 am to keep the crew at ODBs fed with an equally large breakfast as there were big plans for the day.

Earlier in the week Diamond, Paul, and me had the idea of giving ODB’s a gift that he couldn’t drink.  Although he probably would have preferred something different we had shirts printed for everyone that will forever remember ODB’s eXXXtravaganza.  Those were handed out and we headed up the river with our posse of boats.  Airchairman brought The Pumpkin down from the ‘Toona so we took off while a few folks stayed with ODBs Nautique and the chase boat. 

I hadn’t seen Brandon Lee ride all year but damn that kid set it off.  That’s pretty much all I have to say about that.  Set. It. Off.  Bubba, Pratt, and ACM all rode great with Pratt getting some camera love and Bubba and ACM managing to keep away from the gators.  My set of the day goes to Snead though.  He got up, did all of his tricks, and then nailed his Backroll.  That’s not the impressive part though.  After landing he got this smirk on his face, shrugged his shoulders, and tossed the handle.  Hell yeah.  That is a classic finishing move.  When we pulled around to pick up Snead high-fives were thrown and he said, “It’s not going to get any better than that.”  That is now my favorite quote.

Once again I decided to ride like I had never seen a wakeboard and this made me really happy.  That happiness was short lived though.  After my set we beached the boats and started to grill hamburgers.  Remember that happiness I was talking about?  Yeah, well, forgetting a spatula when have to grill 30 hamburgers is not happiness.  I attempted to improvise finding a stick and some tin foil, and no shit, it didn’t work.  After this I tried flipping burgers with my fingers.  This worked until I caught a wiff of this funny smell only to realize that it was the flesh on my hands cooking.  Finally the smarts in me kicked in and I grabbed a piece of cardboard.  Problem solved and lunch served.

Highlights of the rest of the afternoon in random order:
Diamond’s fashion show.
CMB’s to scale tattoo of something scary on his back.
Rhett and me searching countless bookbags looking for an iPod.
Brandon Lee’s ability to not say a single word to me the entire afternoon.
Doubles wakeskating
Doubles on Roams. 
Snead and Pratt going 45mph while Roaming

That second to last point needs a bit of elaboration.  These Roam Double sets were behind the chase boat, which was a really nice deck boat (read: no wake), and involved nothing but presses, slides, and the occasional WeedWhacker or wrapped surface spin.  This was definitely my favorite ride of the weekend.  ODB and I took a set and the water was straight glass making slides and presses even better.  If you haven’t had a Roam set on glassy water you haven’t lived. 

Saturday night we attended the fish-fry that ODB planned, organized, and paid for in order to honor himself.  For some reason he trusted us around his family which was not really smart considering the all day birthday bash we threw on the river, but there we were.  This did play on as predicted with a member of our crowd actually deciding to take a “nap” right around dinner.  For the first time this member of our crowd was not me.  The fish fry was great with all the mixings you would expect from a place that has been in business for 50 years.  White’s Seafood – word.  The night wound up with the usual after dinner chats but way to early the sun had beaten me down and it was time for bed.

Part of the crew took off early Sunday morning but a few of us took one last set on the Flint before the weekend ended.  It was definitely an extravaganza - great friends, awesome water, and lots of great food and drinks.  Getting old has never seemed like so much fun.

-bizzuck