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Oh My God

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Synapsi

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My sudden loss of a weekend is attributed to my mom making me wash the buick so it can be sold, then went to where we usually pull the camper in to camp for the summer. While my mom and my sister put the boat into the lake to fish, my brother and I pulled the bikes out of the boat and hit the eight mile gravel road around back. I got to ride my mom's bike which had a scooter seat on it, which means it was ridiculously large. I'd have to guess when I hit the large hill about halfway through our trip, my breakfast of mostaccioli and a big cup of milk started to curdle and my stomach said NO. I had to stop and get something to drink. My brother and I switched bikes, which helped for the most part. Not much else happened, but we did go on a little excursion through a path that was gated off from cars. It led to another big hill that's basically all sand and shale. The whole trip of eight miles took about 50 minutes with our little sidetrip. When we got back to the car, I pulled out a can of coke and strung it up with a fish stringer and tied it off to the dock so the water that was still freezing would cool it for me (My mom and sister took the cooler :P). About twenty minutes later, another boat came in the boat ramp to take their fishing boat out of the water. While the son held the rope keeping the boat at the dock, the dad went to get the car with the trailer on it. The dad towed his boat in with a rope and started to put it on the trailer when he stepped too far out on the ramp where the algae is slick and he fell in. :P My favorite part was how he tried to play it off, he immediately turned around and walked back up out of the water like nothing happened. I could tell he wasn't exactly the camping type because he was wearing those crock shoes where they're basically rubber with holes in them.

But after that, my sister called my brother to say they were at the big hills out back (different hills from before). The only way we could get to those hills would be to bike back three or so miles out back and look for a path I had found on google earth that lead "straight" to the hills. When we found the path, we had to ditch our bikes somewhere inside the path where no one would see them. I'll skip the whole hiking through the woods and guessing paths from a fading memory and tell you we did make it to the hills, but not without picking off a "few" ticks. Me being the second in line, I only found six ticks on me the whole way there, but my brother, oh how my brother was the favorite, got sixteen ticks on him the whole way there. Once we arrived, we basically fooled around then got a boat ride back to the front where we jumped off the boat onto land to walk along the road and find the path to get the bikes. My mom had been yelling at us to hurry up before we run out of daylight. Turns out, we beat the boat back to the car; by boat it's a straight shot with only being allowed to go five miles per hour, but the bikes have to curve around the lake. Packing up the boat ensues and we make our way out of the camping area. I rip open a bag of doritos since it was the only thing to eat.

 

Now here I sit after eating a piece of pizza my dad had ordered, and my stomach is still pissed. I really wish there was some fruit in the kitchen, that'd help a bit.

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This entry isn't about the wonderful joys of camping, it's about the terrible consequences of a bad meal for biking!

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This entry isn't about the wonderful joys of camping, it's about the terrible consequences of a bad meal for biking!
I seem to of missed that part.

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This entry isn't about the wonderful joys of camping, it's about the terrible consequences of a bad meal for biking!
I seem to of missed that part.
I'd have to guess when I hit the large hill about halfway through our trip, my breakfast of mostaccioli and a big cup of milk started to curdle and my stomach said NO.
It's only the fourth sentence. <_<

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