Well, rather the fellow depicted via his translator Gabe;

"Stevil - for what it's worth, I wanted to pass along a tip I received from my good friend Pinch regarding your high school reunion. You might remember Pinch from this old post. See the attached photographic updates of Pinch in various stages of avoidance. Several years back, I queried Pinch about how his reunion went, he placed his hand on my shoulder, stared off into the distance and said "Trust me, don't take acid at your high school reunion." Just wanted to give you a heads up.

Gabe"

That was good advise, because as I stood with clammy palms at the entrance of the first of many parties to celebrate the reunion weekend, I would have put John Belushi to shame with the amount of controlled substances I was prepared to ingest just to make it through the door, as it had been a long time since my last visit, let alone any time spent with these ghosts from what all intent and purposes might as well have been another lifetime for me. As it turns out, it wasn't so bad after all, but before I get to the meat of the matter, I'll give you a brief breakdown of what went down and when, and to make it even easier for you, I'll align my time away with what you might have been doing at the same moment.

When you were at work sharpening pencils on Wednesday, I was here with this guy;

Then, when you were at work throwing your sharpened pencils at the ceiling on Thursday, I did this stuff with this guy;

On Friday, probably as you were brushing your teeth, and praying to win the lottery, (which is a standard Friday morning ritual for me) I was here;

If you pan just right of the rocky mound in the middle of the above shot, you can see the ridge where my childhood home sits. Not too shabby a spot to be raised if you ask me.

Of course anyone who's ever ridden in the rocks knows that from time to time the rocks can bite back, which I have, I do, and they did;

Then came the reunion/party segment of the trip. Highlights for me included being voted for in an informal poll by the women folk of my class the second best looking fellow in attendance, which doesn't say much for the other men in the room, but I was happy to have inspired my old chum Jennifer's new on-line conception 'www.ishouldhavefuckedyouwhenihadthechance.com'.

Unfortunately all of the photos I took were shot with a disposable camera with the exception of Jennifer's nametag and Allison's feet;

Waking up with bleary eyes on Sunday, I then met up with this guy and rode here;

Which ultimately led to this;

and then this;

Finally, in the afternoon, my better half and I made our way through Golden and did more of this;

I sense a reoccurring theme here.

As the sun set and we landed at our new resting spot in Denver, our hosts threw a barbeque to which I was allowed to call in a few friends for some bread breaking;

and to also teach the newest addition to the clan a few tricks;

Waking up the following morning, I opted to take Demonika to my childhood fantasy land that is Casa Bonita;

There we met up once again with none other than 685, and partook in the crappiest Mexican food this side of Denmark, but as anyone who has ever been there knows, it's not the food that brings people in, but rather the ambience;

Their motto is 'taste the magic of Mexico' and if by that they mean to say that magic tastes like ass, then they are absolutely correct.

Anyway, after running around there for a while, and taking note of all of the blocked off secret passages that I used to crawl around in, we departed and met up once again with Mitch to ride what used to be a really fun urban trail, or as 685 put it, 'a 12 mile long BMX track', but what is now a neglected sand pit strewn with goat heads. Finally upon coming to the end of the trail, we got back in the water to clense the defeat from our skin;

Upon emerging from the water, I found that I had gotten a flat for my efforts, so after dealing with that, I rode the bike path back downtown, and met up once again with Wake and his seed for supper;

Falling out of the restaurant and into bed, our plan for the following day was to get wet one more time, so while Tuesday morning found you shuffling around your office, looking for your stapler, Demonika and I were zipping around a million miles an hour and ogling a million miles of tanned flesh at Water World;

Fortunately for me, I'm now back in the salt mines, partially recharged and filled with hope that one day, sooner than later, I will be doing it all over again.
As always, thanks for sitting tight, and here is to hoping that you might have received some enjoyment from my saga. Worse comes to worse, you can just cut the chord and do it all for yourself.

You know, for what it's worth, even I would appreciate it if you did.

As for the weekend, keep it safe and sane and I hope to see you all back here next week, digits intact.