When I was 10 years old, my family decided to become a traveling sideshow of assholes. We loaded up our RV with scuba gear and a baffling amount of Fritos and drove all the way to South Dakota.
South Dakota is the worst place on Earth, second only to fucking New Mexico. People on the Oregon Trail looked at South Dakota and went, “Fuck this place. We can certainly do better than this.” Birds, when migrating South, go around South Dakota. Even dinosaurs didn’t want to die there for fear of being unearthed in South Dakota and made fun of eternally.
My stepdad decided to park The Widowmaker near a lake once we got there, deciding it would be the perfect place to go scuba diving. Let me repeat: scuba dive, in a dirty-ass lake, in South Dakota. My enchantment was palpable.
Grace and I were about to gruesomely murder each other out of boredom, so we figured, “hey, what the hell. Worst case scenario, we catch dysentery and then don’t have to be in the RV anymore.” My Stepdad insisted we get dressed at camp and then walk to the lake to use our time most efficiently. This meant, on the hike down, we would be wearing:
- Full-body wetsuits
- masks & snorkels
- oxygen tanks
- of course, flippers
The lake is a good mile away from us at this point, and we must wear our flippers and masks now. In case of sudden ocean, I suppose. My stepdad decided that we didn’t have any need to take the road down, because he could get us a shortcut through the forest nearby, and seeing as how I didn’t weigh as much as my oxygen tank, I was fucking thrilled.
The three of us (my stepdad, Grace, and me), dressed in all our douche-tastic finery, set out into the forest.
Thus began the most hilarious hike of my life.
Hindered by our fins, which made us look like what I imagine a fish would look like if he suddenly decided to run up onto land on his back fin, we began to hack our way into what we quickly discovered was a very very thick forest made up entirely of thorny-ass brambles. We were suddenly grateful for the masks and wetsuits, because what we didn’t get caught in naturally, we got our fucking fins caught in. It was a constant wrestling match with nature. My stepdad became more and more agitated, having lost sight of the lake in the brambles, and Grace and I were pretty much done ever since we put our fins on, way back in The Widowmaker.
And then I came face to face with my nemesis.
While untangling my tank from yet another hate-bush, I realized I was staring into a frightening pair of black eyes. I had expected them to turn away and run, but they moved closer. And closer. And closer still.
That’s when Grace turned around and saw it.
The band of rogue deer.
There were only 4 of them, but all that bullshit I’d heard about deer being more afraid of you than you are of them was not helping at this moment. The Forest of Hatefulness had turned them into loose cannons, charging anyone who dare enter their domain.
Fortunately for them, their latest prey were three fucktards with a fin-shoed death wish.
As shitty as we were at walking in flippers, we were pretty goddamn amazing at hurdling in flippers. Suddenly, we forgot how heavy everything was as we tried to outrun these villain deer through all the thorns. At three points, we had to hide from them, hoping their sense of smell had been taken in exchange for the hatred they apparently felt deep in their souls.
About 3 hours into this one-mile hike to the lake, the three of us finally stumbled back onto the paved road, covered in scratches, thorns, sweating so badly in our neoprene we squeaked when we walked. The deer were apparently cursed to only live in the woods, and blessedly gave no chase. We hobbled our sad asses back to the camp, took off our gear, and never said a word of what we had been through.
We never found the lake. We never scuba-dived in South Dakota. We were suspicious of deer from there on. They will fucking waste you.– Did you ever go on a ridiculous trip or outing as a child, or ever take your kids on a weird trip/outing? What happened? – The Podcast with Reasoning With Vampires is up! You can listen or download it for later listening (recommended if you’re at work. We use the phrase, “rum and cum,” at one point. – Favorite Comment From The Last Post: From Jillian @ Brilliant Title: “This is like a glass of hot chocolate. Hot chocolate with vodka and a non-suspicious white powder which causes semi-lucid hallucinations. In other words, good shit.”