Single in the Summer

“Road Trip”

After spending many a July 4^th in Newport, it was with a bit of apprehension that I decided to venture off-island to see if there was life (and single men) beyond the shores of First Beach. I had received an email from a friend in early June pumping up this CRAZY party that he and his summer house friends throw every year on Block Island – Mohegan Bluffs to be exact. He included pictures of last years’ party and I could tell immediately that he was not under-selling this event. The first picture was of a guy doing a keg stand in the sand, the next was of a girl in a string bikini riding around on some lucky guys’ back and the third (this is where I decided to stop) was of an obnoxiously drunk meathead running out of the water with his bathing suit on his head – the water was clearly still quite cold at this point in the summer or maybe it was just the steroids he was probably taking! However, this sealed the deal for me so I quickly emailed my friend asking for two tickets – of course I had to bring Karen, my wing man along on this adventure.

What was quite impressive about this party was the amount of brute force that went into the preparation and set up. Picture this: a remote strip of beach accessible only by an incredibly steep set of wooden stairs followed by a slippery slope of pointy rocks and then a 500-yard walk down a sandy beach. Fine if you are just carrying your beach towel but add to that 20 kegs, 6 huge vats of punch and audio equipment (including a generator) for a six piece band. No small feat to get all this crap out there to entertain almost 200 people.

I was told by the party planner that I should try to get on the 9:30 AM ferry from Point Judith over to Block Island as this was when 90% of the attendees were heading over and it was the official “kick off”. As I backed into this schedule I quickly realized it was going to be physically impossible for me to make this ferry as I would have to get up at 7 AM. Not happening on a Saturday morning – I practically need a fork lift to get me out of bed by this time during the week.

Unfortunately I got a late start on Saturday and called Karen, who was meeting me at the ferry to tell her that I was running behind. I checked in again with her as I got off the exit and she informed me that the next ferry was leaving in about 15 minutes and the next one after that wasn’t for another hour and a half. I didn’t think this would be a big problem until I started looking for parking around the ferry dock. EVERY LOT WAS FULL. At 1:27 I pulled into the last lot I could find, handed the attendant a wad of money, left my car running and told him to just put it somewhere until I got back that night on the last ferry. Later that day I had visions of my car being repainted and sold on the black market. Oh well, the things we do for a good time.

With three minutes and counting I sprinted across the parking lot towards the ferry where Karen was waiting with tickets in hand. Just to be clear here, I don’t sprint well, especially in flip-flops. This was more exercise than I had gotten in the past two years combined. Mission accomplished however as I managed to leap on as the last passenger before the boat pulled away from the dock. The only problem was all I had were the clothes on my back since I didn’t have time to grab anything else from the trunk of my car. Missing were my bathing suit bottoms, a towel and suntan lotion which are all key items for a day on the beach.

So now Karen and I were enjoying our first beer at 1:35, Block Island bound on a gorgeous, sunny day which was definitely worth the Mario Andretti driving tactics I had used earlier to get myself there on time. And the anticipation was building as we wondered what we would find once we got to the other side.

After a short cab ride from the ferry to Mohegan Bluffs, Karen and I found ourselves standing at the top of this wooden staircase slightly amazed at the thought of all the party paraphernalia that had been hauled out there through human strength. As we approached the scene it struck me as something from that movie “Animal House”. My first visual was of some blonde girl in a flowered bikini chugging Stoli O straight from the bottle. A sign of what was to come……brace yourself.

As we all know, the sun seems to amplify the effects of alcohol so everyone at this party was completely toasted by the time we got there. Add to that the fact that maneuvering in the sand can be tricky even while sober and these people looked completely legless. So Karen and I had some work to do to catch up to this group of drunken beach bums which was going to be tricky since the only alcohol left was keg beer. I could drink keg beer from now ‘til eternity and still remain almost sober. So I set out in search of some other poison and was pleasantly surprised that I was presented with a bottle of rum and two cans of Coke within minutes. We were now on our way to a blurry afternoon.

I have yet to make mention of the band so let me take a minute here to do them some justice. They are two guys (Mac and Jamie) who play guitar and bongos all along the CT coast in the summer and in Killington, VT in the winter and I must say they have quite a fan crowd. They were in rare form this particular Saturday and had brought along a horn section and keyboard player who, in the spirit of the day, was using a beer cooler as his piano bench the entire afternoon.

Flash forward four hours and people were just rolling around in the sand, peeing bushes and all out slobbering over each other (and each others girl/boyfriends). The band even looked hammered at this point but no one cared since they were still cranking out tunes.

Flash forward again and it was now 7 PM and the party was coming a close. A communal effort was put forth to cart everything back off the beach as everyone was required to carry something….anything. My last memory of this party (as I carried a guitar on my back) was of one of my drunk male friends hauling an 80 pound speaker on his back as he hopped across a rock mine field. Scary.

Post Mortem: No injuries, no broken bones, all band equipment in tact and there was not a trace left on the beach of our July 4^th drunkfest. I am already looking forward to next year.