I'm not the type who usually has adventurous weekends. More often than not they boil down to some nachos and a three movie mini-marathon. Luckily the best quests are frequently the ones you didn't plan on.
I'd already felt decent enough about a Friday on which I'd crafted up some crosses for the front yard, saw a local band downtown, did some proper socializing, and bungled through my lil groups first game of Elder Sign (good game btw). Honestly that was all enough to keep the weekend from feeling like a waste but come Saturday, everyone still seemed to have some extra energy to throw around.
In truth, our adventure didn't start out with any grand design. We were simply bored, which lead to us visiting a cemetery just outside of town that we'd never gone to before. Now, Ususally a smaller graveyard has a pervading theme. Some I've been to are filled with longest passed folks you can think of, while others are still prepping rows for newcomers. This one here was an odd streatch from the 19th century to people who aren't even dead yet. I wouldn't be that surprised by the spread but this was a fairly small spot so it's wide array of dead folk was at least unique. Still; this wasn't a big enough outing to satisfy our little group so we continued on.
It's generally a golden rule that you can follow an old country road and eventually a cemetery will pop up. Now it did take a while, but we found the smallest damn graveyard I've ever seen. A tiny hill, parked next to a corn field with just two markers to list the bakers dozen or so folks who where laid there. I must admit, they had a good view at least.
Continuing down the road, our needs still unmet, we realized that we weren't far from a haunted trail that we'd visited some years back. I imagine that veering in that direction had been an unspoken goal of the driver since the moment we had first hopped in the car. We got turned around on the back roads and stumbled upon a bar in the abso-fucking-lute middle of nowhere. The joint went by the name of Kaptains, and while we only stopped in the parking lot to check our maps, I will not feel fully satisfied until we make a return trip to eat there. It just seemed like the sort of place you have to visit.
Finally, we neared our destination. All the better that there was a dive (and god do I mean dive!) general store on our way. Now I totally adore shitty hole in the wall party stores and this bitch ranks amongst some of the skaniest I've ever been in. Every rack smelled of desperation and a complete and utter lack of anything resembling effort. Best of all; the windows had the veneer of grease generally reserved for Chinese buffets. Just look at it!
|This must be Heaven!|
This really marked a high point on our journey as we grabbed some drinks. The main girl working the joint had the line held up until she was done making a pizza, that as far as I can tell was mostly for here co-workers. After getting out with our junk, a couple of us dared to return for a trip to the pisser. My friend got in first while I was waiting in line behind two teenaged girls. Unfortunately I can't remember a pittance of the conversations the employees where carrying on, I just know that they where a gold mine of inbred lunacy. After my friend got out of the bathroom, he kept me company in line as the first girl went in. Her friend decided to use this time to, and I am not exaggerating this, take at least three selfies a second for over a minute and a half as she moved her phone closer and father from her face.. Luckily her friend returned before she got bored (slaps face). At last it was my tame to drain the snake. Upon entering the unisex bathroom, I notice that the spot for the employees to hang their coats is directly over the bathroom trash. Also; there was a sign over the toilet asking me to return the handle to it's upright position after flushing. I did them one better and simply didn't flush. Of course there was no hand dryer in the joint. Only a ragged metal beam that was presumably meant to support paper towels. Suffice to say, that bar is failing miserably in its career pursuits. Shaking my wet hands off in all directions as I exited the store, I beheld the final glorious sight. All three girls who worked the place where eating breadsticks....after they squirted enormous amount of hidden valley ranch on them. As a ranch man myself I would normally support their cause. Sadly I heard the large one remark disgustedly about their small size with the phrase, “Fuckin five-inch bullshit.” Magical.
At last we arrived at our destination. Sadly, I was unable to get any good photos of the Duck Lake haunted trail to share with yall but I feel secure in telling you that if you're around Duck Lake MI over the next few weekends, pop on by the place. It's not a large professional haunt, but they give you more than enough value for your five dollar entry fee. I will note that this years layout was not quite as good as the 2009 variant. Still; any place where a guy can jump out at ya with a chainsaw for five bucks is all good in my book.
|That thing in the glass is what happens when you add coke. Beware.|
Our Journey complete. We returned home, though not without grabbing pumpkin pie cream liqueur and chipotle pumpkin salsa. Both are quality finds for any pumpkin fans out there though I would prefer that less of the recommended mix drinks for the liqueur involved Kahlua as it is not a friend to me. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to spend this weekend trying to hear more crazy shit from fat girls...or maybe just watch The Monster Club...haven't decided. Ta!