Sitting
here trying to recall a old trip I took at either the end of middle school or
freshman year is
tough. Even more so when the alcohol blackout period of high school and the few
years after is taken into consideration. Actually I find it a fun exercise to
attempt to remember things from my days before I graduated.
My brain works in mysterious ways, the way I
recount information is a dumbfounding
ordeal, even unto
me. For instance I might see a baby playing with a key chain and think of the
time in elementary school when Kenny and I found a baby bird and mercy killed
it because the mother wouldn’t care for it now it smelled of humans, this is
only one small brick in my warped sensibility by the way.
So
the other day when I was taking a relaxing soak in hot bath in attempt to go to
sleep, I thought
about the recent Paula Deen Diabetes thing (which I don’t care about but the
hole thing infuriates me so I'll probably write something about it soon), which
made me think about those two raccoons from The Great Outdoors that really
loved garbage, then I went to rabid squirrels. This is the chain of thought
that made me remember my trip to Pine Ridge and Sugar Mountain shortly there
after. Bothersome Huh?
-Pine Ridge-
I
remember it was a pretty big trip. My friend James and I were in this church
youth
group, shocking to
those who know me that I actually had contact with the religious world (I was
also involved in RA's too), that had planned this big group retreat to the
mountains of North Carolina. You know
the kind of trip where you sing Kumbaya by the fire, which on a side note the
church my parents went to had a camp-out at one of the congregation members farm
and spent all day building a fire to do practically the same which I promptly
ruined by hiding a six pack of soda in the wood pile so that when it started
the soda would explode and put the fire out (I got banished to my tent for the
rest of the event), then talk about
personal stories and make smores. This is something I would find uncomfortable
now, but as it was a way to leave town for a few days and it was relatively
free, I went.
I
met James at his house with my bag packed with the essentials, my PlayStation
with a
rf converter I made
to hook it up to my portable TV, mini disc player with my Manson/NIN mix,
clothes and batteries to supply the latter. We then went to the church to meet
up in the parking lot. Every one started showing up while James and I walked
through the youth building making sick jokes and looking forward to while also
dreading the godly ordained activities, they made a three page itemized list
for everyone.
While
I can't remember the names of the activities I am sure they were called
something like: The
Shepherd and The Flock, Baptism by Fire, Sister Mary's Pole Dancing Class, so
on and such. Really the titles of these things sent shivers down my spine, and
the last note on the page was "no music players allowed" so I stashed
them at the bottom of the bag and proceeded to the van, after all its not my
fault they actually trusted the honor system.
In
order to kick things off we all formed a circle around the van and linked hands
to
form a prayer chain,
the whole time I was making a list of who I wouldn’t mind seeing naked and in
possible compromising situations (I was twelve and perverted at the time, I
wanted to see almost every girl naked), how long before I could ditch the program
or at least what I needed to do to play along while not suffering internally.
Prayer time over everyone piled into the van and we proceeded on the way.
What
Pine Ridge, or possibly Pine Mountain I cant remember, looks like on the
approach is tough to
say as by the time we actually got there the dense fog and snow if I recall
exactly right only had me thinking that I didn’t want to be found dead in a
wreck with these idiots. There was trees packed close together and a winding
road with gravel on both banks, and it was all included with steep inclines and
falling rock signs. The drive took about eight hours in total.
Pulling
into the cabins, which were primarily arranged off of a road with
three branches, they
didn't look all that bad. All were made like log cabins and in the center of
all was a common house for group activities, which luckily we had en masse. We
got out of the van and went on to our respective cabins. I got the back room in
the cabin I was assigned to and begin to set up my prohibited items. I went and
got James, then we played resident evil as Trent Reznor called the pigs.
The
next morning we all met in the community cabin for breakfast and then every one
had to share a
secret to bring the group together. I muttered some made up story to appease
the crowd and then we did the trust game to concrete our new found whole. The
whole day kind of fades into one whole repressed memory to deny any sense that
I was involved in anything that sappy. That night I went over to another one of
the guys cabins and the true events transpired.
The
rest of the guys, who I quickly learned were degenerates just like me, were
hanging out in a
cabin separated from the rest of the group. Walking in rock music was blaring
on a stereo as Jason was watching the door from the corner of his eyes to make
sure no leaders were coming, which was stranger that he was one. Tim sucked
down a cigarette as Justin looked through the phone book for a place that would
deliver pizza to the place as he sucked down a beer. Now this was my type of
social gathering. We broke out cards and poker chips and began a game, laugh,
and cursed. We asked who had got laid, you know bible talk.
The
final day we all did the last of the group activities and walked around the
lodge
where I swear I say
a squirrel hit another on the head with a nut and run away, hence the reason I
remembered this event. But to be truthful this was me at my tamest, after all I
was only twelve at the time. However every time I remember this trip I then
automatically remember the church ski trip to Sugar Mountain. It is by far me
at my most socially depraved as I was close to sixteen at the time.
-Sugar Mountain-
At
sixteen I was ready to revolt and had enough ammo do to a bang up
job of it. The youth
group, who I was apart of only to disguise my heathenist ways, had planned to
attend the annual Ski Revival that was going on in the area. It entailed three
trips to the different slopes around the area, Beech, Appalachian, and Sugar.
As well as group services at a hotel mega conference hall in-between trips. As
I loved to snowboard I got the necessary one hundred and twenty dollars for
lodging and lift tickets and signed up, with James in tow my recently converted
heathernist.
I got him into the habit of raiding his moms
liquor at thirteen and over the next few
years got him to
change from gospel music to heavy metal, give up his star trek club by blowing
up all his models with fireworks, and drop boy scouts. I actually feel kind of
bad about the last thing as he was just shy of making eagle scout and would have
been good on his collage applications but oh well. And truthfully I don’t think
it was all my fault, even though his father called me the devil. I think
James's girlfriend was more like the devil than me, but that’s a story he can
tell better than me.
Anyways,
back to the point, I planned with James the necessary equipment to attend.
We had game systems,
all of the Christians most hated musical artist. James was fond of Busta Rhymes
at the time, I stuck with Manson, Slipknot, and NIN with Smashing pumpkins
threw in for color. I also had two one liter bottles of Sprite I protected with
my life. And with supplies gathered we went to the church and sped on our way
to the hotel.
We
arrived at the hotel and went to our rooms, James and I were paired with Jess.
I immediately put my
devilish charms to work so Jess had no problem as we hooked up the games to the
TV. I actually talked him into helping as the whole thing was becoming
problematic. After setup we had to go to a night service and then it was off to
sleep. Let the depravity begin.
I
awoke early, about six, and started drinking one of my sprites, which was
actually a
bottle of vodka I
had resealed with a lighter. By nine am I was trashed. I stumbled to the van,
with my second bottle in my pack, and relaxed pleasantly warmed by liquor as I
enjoyed the ride to Sugar Mountain. James was slightly confused by my demeanor but
that would quickly fade to horror and uncontrollable laughter.
So
the infamous trip begins by taking one blue square run called switchback or
something like that,
which I would like to think I handled it in style as the second bottle hadn't
fully kicked in, but you would have to ask James about that as the day quickly
became a blur. So really this is what I remember:
After
about one or two runs down Switchback I decided I was in no condition to ride
that trail, and
decide that the green circle Easy Street run would be more attune to my
impacted abilities. By impacted I mean I pretty much I just used my snowboard
as a sled that I would just roll around on trying to "maintain".
Now
while maintaining, in the aforementioned manner, shock unto me the usually non
judgmental and
socially accepting of all a persons flaws Christian youth groups riding the
lifts decided to poke fun at the unknowingly drunken individual below, in all
likely hood I knew the guy yelling at me. Thinking about it now it probably was
this kid named David Ray or something, the previous night David had body
slammed Tim off of the hotel bed and busted Tim's eyebrow open, but whoever it
was they kept on yelling its better if you stand up to ride.
Well
normally I am in control of my social graces so that I never really come off as
lewd
and very disturbed,
but not so much this time and apparently this was the key that started the
engine of sick and depraved Seth. I look up at the guy hanging from the lift
and respond "How is Jesus going to fit on the cross with your fuckin' ass
on it already." It was apparently
understandable sentence as a few parents with their kids by them turned toward
me aghast with displeasure. Now no longer able to maintain as if I was sober,
or even remotely possessing of a soul that should recoil in horror with the
acts that I would soon display, to the god fearing folks which the slopes were
comprised of today.
I
think I might have dry humped some animate and inanimate objects, Every time
our
main youth leader
Chris would pass by I would just yell "Fucker" and then look around
like I had no clue who said it. As I said for a full recount of the events I
would have to ask James as apparently the stuff I do remember was the less
sacrilegious of all. The day progressed into a mumble I blacked out at the
hotel, after I have been told I had dining and dashed while saying "god
bless you Tiny Tim." I might have said tiny vaginas I don’t recall.
And after all of
this the youth group I was with had no idea it was me that did all of that. So
on the ride back home I was told stories and asked if I had seen that crazy
guy. Laughing and looking at James, while he turned away to act innocent I told
him that the Sprite was actually vodka. He was more pissed I didn't share..
-SM-
