beachside disaster fantastics

Mad excursions into the unknowns of the oregon coast yeilded gasless wanderings through dark wood roads this town that town next town and no gas stations anywhere. When we finally give up and camp, we have no wood for fire, no beer for fun, and its already midnight. But we make a night of it, under bright bright moonlight, guitars and cards till we get yelled at. Its up in the morning for beautiful lucid beachwalks, cut short by fees and regulations. muster car to gas, eat big breafast and home again homeagain jiggidy jig. hectic yet restfull all at once. Too short. Work fault. Me hate work. Work. Hate. YAr.
drinky drinky.

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