Castaways Country Club Adventure Day One . . . Animals . . . Prowlers and Med i-Flight . . . Oh My!

 Well Pam and Dennis arrive at the Little compound at around 1:30pm and the adventure was about to begin. The first order of business was to pack the wagon with our provisions for the 3 day adventure. This was a challenge as the women folk had packed enough for a cross country adventure, instead of the three hour tour often associated with the Castaways .

                                                                 

Our GPS guided wagon was off and our destination of Spanish Bay Unit #30 at Pebble Beach was a mere 2 ½ hours away . . . Let the adventure begin.

Dennis aka Jed Clampitt was at the helm and me aka Jethro was his copilot . . . That was in addition to Lola our trusty GPS guidance Counselor. With the course plotted and Lola babbling about turn here turn there to just get out of our subdivision we were off. We drove for a little over an hour when we came upon the world famous “Casa De Fruta” and the girls instructed us that a pit stop was in order. We parked the wagon and embarked on what could only be described as “The Great Snack Hunt 2014”. I know . . . I know in reading the blog entries about this adventure from the beginning you would have already been able to deduce that we already had enough snack for a week much less 3 days. The one thing that we were missing though was pistachios . . . and as anyone who has followed the Castaways over the years . . . This has become a staple and a “Must Have Snack”for them. So we settled on our flavors, purchased 5 pounds of our $15 a pound snacks, a quick pee stop and we were off again.

The next leg of our journey found us following Lola's directions into the middle of nowhere in route to highway 156 when out of nowhere a pterodactyl size hawk swooped in to latch onto the wagon and fly off with it . . . or so it seemed. In actuality the hawk was only playing the little known game of “Swoop And Make Them Shit”. The hawk swooped . . . we all screamed . . . and yes I peed a little . . . first laughable moment was now behind us! Not too long after what is now known as the "Holy Shit-Hawk" incident, a loud scream of "RAKE"! came from the back seat. That is when Dennis' driving skills were put to the test. With a swerve swerve here and a swerve swerve there, here a swerve there a swerve everywhere a swerve swerve. With NASCAR like driving skills, eminent tire damage from the steely tines was avoided . . . mighty fine driving Mr. Earnhardt. Another hour or so of following Lola's directions was uneventful . . . then we arrived at the guarded entrance to 17 Mile Drive and Pebble Beach.

At the gate we were to give the guard our name and we were supposed to be in the system . . . well we were . . . which was a big surprise as usually when the castaways are on an adventure . . . Shit Happens! With the guard behind us now and him knowing damn well that we were with “Dennis Crow”, the entrance to the life styles of the rich and famous was now in our sights the next stop was the gate to Spanish Bay Residences aka “The Mansion” . . .

We arrived at the gates to the Spanish Bay Residential compound where unit #30 was located which would be our base of operations for the next three days. In the instructions provided to us by our host there were a couple of codes . . . of which being a good copilot . . . I gave them to Dennis in the wrong order to punch into the keypad at the gate. To our surprise when the first code was entered a woman’s voice answered the subsequent ringing . . . Hello . . . Yes we were given this code and told that it would open this gate . . . Um okay . . . I'll open it for you . . . and low and behold the gate to the compound opened . . . Hell yeah we were in! We slowly wound around the compound as there were Deer wandering everywhere.

We located Unit #30 got out of the wagon went to unit #30 courtyard doors inserted the key and . . . The Fucking Key Didn't Work . . . That's right let me say that again . . . The Fucking Key Didn't Work!. We then started to think hmmm maybe we are at the wrong location and this is the wrong “Unit #30”. We got back into the wagon, drove around the compound, only to exit gates to Spanish Bay Residential compound where unit #30 was located. We then drove around the area for a while when  I read the directions again “You can enter through the second gate on the right by entering this code . . . Oh I get it. Dennis proceeded to the second gate on the right which was the gate we were at where the nice lady opened it earlier. Dennis punched in the code and TaDa the gate to the Spanish Bay Residential compound where unit #30 was located opened. We drove around slowly as there were still numerous Deer everywhere. We once again located unit #30 and thought maybe this time the key would work . . . Foiled again. The debate started call Mary . . . Call The Office . . . Call Dan . . . Call PePe the Housekeeper . . . We called nobody. The girls took there turn at reading the instructions provided to us by our host. There is lock box by the door isn't there? No we answered. We'll check you two are old and blind. The girl's search resulted in . . . there's no lock box. As we were walking to the wagon wondering what we were going to do next . . . wondering if the dream of being members of “The Rich and Famous” even if only for the weekend was going to be squashed

 . . . I notice a door on the side of the garage with a deadbolt mounted knob side out. Could this be a secret location where the lock box was . . . could it . . . I opened the door . . . It was the alarm panel . . . oh yeah the lock box was there too. I tried the code and voila we were back in the Lifestyle of The Rich and Famous . . . that is . . . if this fucking key opens the doors. There was the faint sound f a Drum roll in the distance . . . The Deer stopped eating, everyone held their breath, the key was inserted slowly into the lock . . . Please let the key work . . . Please . . . the door to the courtyard was now unlocked . . . Hip Hip Hooray . . . We were in. With the door to the courtyard open the first thing that Pam aka Granny notice was a doggie door in the entrance door and asked if Dan had dogs to which Dennis answered “No”. Great we just may be in the wrong house?

No it was soon discovered that there were pictures of our host in the house . . . Whew we were safe.

We carefully unloaded the wagon-load of supplies that was packed like a twisted game of Jenga. We unloaded the wagon all the while trying not to release the wrong combination resulting in what was sure to be a body burying avalanche of miscellaneous Shit. The unload sequence was a resounding success with no incidents to report.

With the supplies safely unloaded and in the “Mansion”, the Snoop Patrol (Pam & Joanie) was sent out to investigate the new diggs. They snooped high . . . they snooped low . . . they snooped left . . . they snooped right and reported back at a group gathering on the patio overlooking Pebble Beach.

                                                      

The report was summed up in two short phrases the first was “This place is Fucking Beautiful” followed in rapid succession by “This place is Fucking Huge”! With the first round of snooping out of the way and the supplies unpacked, it was time for a quick snack and an adult beverage or two or three . . . okay maybe four! While we were having our snack we watched as numerous Deer wandered around on the fairway of the golf course while golfers hit their respective balls down the fairway . . . the Deer were not startled or impressed by the golfers efforts. As for the castaways we were neither startled or impressed either as some of the golfers hits resulted in more that a few “Fucks” “Motherfuckers” and quite a few “Aww Shits” as the balls traveled well out of bounds in the trees and bushes. After our snack time we relaxed and continued to unwind and even were able to send the snoop patrol out for a follow up snoop assignment which included the garage and various doors that were overlooked on the first assignment.

Well after some time had past and we had freshened up it was off to dinner in Pacific Grove. We ate at this little Italian restaurant located in this beautiful Victorian house.

The dinner and the company was awesome we even had a good time with the awesome waitress which at first did not know what to make of our group. This was especially true when it came to me . . . imagine that. After dinner it was agreed that we should go back to the Mansion and walk to the beach to walk off our fabulous meal. We returned to the trusty wagon and programed Lola for our return route as it was now dark and god only knows . . . This group would get so lost we would end up driving into the fucking Ocean if left to fend for ourselves on our first night unassisted. We were off to the “Mansion” . . . We soon arrived at a different Guarded Gate and it was soon apparent that the “Lifestyles Of the Rich And Famous” suited us because we rolled up to the Guard Gate where Dennis proceeded to blurt out “Crow” as big as you please. This resulted in the oddest look and head tilt from the Guard. So Dennis repeated it a second time only louder “Crow”. This must have been some sort of mysterious password because apparently when you say “Crow” with some authority in your voice gates will open for you . . . Even gates to Pebble Beach guarded by a serious Asian Guard.

We arrived back at the “Mansion” and prepared for our evening hike to the beach. We gathered a few flashlights to aid us on our adventure. We followed the golf cart path towards the Ocean twisting and turning around various fairways and green until the Ocean was close . . . Very Close . . . we couldn't see it but we sure as hell could hear it. So over the Dunes we set tromping through the sand and coastal grasses like we were on some sort of pilgrimage to the fucking promised land or like none of us had never seen the damn Pacific Ocean before . . . Which we all had not only seen it but had swam in it in Kauai on a previous adventure .

 We were now at waters edge standing there in the moonlight of a massive full moon . . . Now What? Pam wandered down to the area where the surf was coming up on the beach to feel the water. Now I know what you are thinking . . . She fell in right . . . Wrong . . . nothing happened to her and shame on you for thinking it did :-). Well a few minutes passed and wee decided to head back as it was quite a hike and most of it would be uphill to the “Mansion”. We retraced our steps through the dunes, well sort of anyway and arrived at the 16^th tee box. We were walking on the cart path when Pam suggested that we cut across the fairway as sort of a short-cut. As we left the path that is when it happened. I know many of you reading this are probably thinking or even hoping “The Fucking Sprinkler Came On” . . . Nope . . . Instead of the sprinklers dousing the group . . . Joanie decide lay down on here face . . . That's right Joanie performed what can only be described as “A Fairway Swan Dive”.

She apparently caught her sandal on the edge of the curb and the rest is history. Now we all know it is not polite or even nice to laugh at the misfortune of others but this was a Fucking Hilarious moment in time . . . there Joanie laid . . . sprawled out face down . . . looking like a spilled drink. The laughter that in sued can only be described as “I think Just fucking Peed My Pants” laughter or at the very least “I Can't Fuck Breathe” laughter. I helped her to her feet at which time she simply said “Fuck Your Shortcut”.

                                

Needless to say we returned to the golf cart path and returned to the”Mansion” with only the occasional “Holy Shit That's A Fucking Deer” as the golf course Sasquatches crossed our path a little too closely.

We arrive none the worse for wear . . . well other than a few grass stains. I excused myself and went upstairs to take a shower because my fat ass was sweating up a storm. This is when I found out that the “Mansion” was equipped with a water softener and a little soap goes a long Fucking way. That's right rub rinse . . . rub rinse . . . rub rinse . . . rubbed a testicle off . . . rub rinse . . . rubbed a second testicle off . . . decided to stop before I rubbed my dick off. Upon my return downstairs to the others I was informed while I was in the shower we had a prowler with a flashlight that approached the patio area adjacent to the golf course.

Dennis believed it to be a security guard on patrol . . . we all just hoped he was right. A few minutes later we were sitting there reminiscing about the days adventures when Pam asked “What's that Sound”? I looked towards the golf course and through the closed blinds I saw a large spotlight and then it was clear that there was a helicopter with it's spotlight on the back patio. Holy Shit Now What! We all jumped up and ran outside to the patio like a group of fucking Ninjas ready to attack. In hind sight it probably wasn't the smartest thing to do one minute a prowler . . . next minute helicopter spotlights . . . sure run outside you fucking idiots! Well lucky for us it was only Med i-flight.

There was some sort of accident / rescue going on down at the beach where we had been no more that a hour earlier . . . Damn we left too early! We (The Ninjas) ran upstairs to the “Master Suite” balcony where there was a spotting scope (This was located on one of the Snooping Missions earlier in the day) so we could get a closer look at “The Happenings”. After we determined it was either a shark attack, a pedestrian vs. vehicle, someone ran their car off the edge into the abyss, and last but not least some idiot fell off the edge onto the rocks below we decided it was time to call it a day and go to bed.

We (Jethro and Ellie May) adjourned to our sleeping quarters and removed the 72 pillows that lined the headboard and the burlap duvet. We pulled back the down filled plastic lined comforter to expose what can only be described as the thickest Fucking sheets I have ever felt. They resembled a painters drop cloth or a sails from a sailboat. We made the best of the strange situation and fell fast asleep as it was a long day. Stay tuned for Day Two . . . God only know what will happen to the Castaways . . .

The Castaway's Pebble Beach Adventure . . . AKA The Beverly Hillbillys Go To The Country Club

That's right . . . the Castaway's are spending the weekend in Pebble Beach thank to Dennis aka Jed Clampitts connection Dan Costa. This adventure started much like all of the rest of the Castaway's adventures . . . many days before the adventure with Pam aka Granny and Joanie aka Ellie May planning on what to bring. As usual the list of things to bring was so fucking long it prompted Dennis aka Jed to pose the question . . . What the Frick do you think we're staying a month?

The women-folks lists included items like alcoholic beverages, snack items, clothes (Both warm and cool versions), multiple pairs of shoes as if the girls were centipedes, three jackets ranging in thickness from light to we're going to Fucking Alaska, an iron and ironing board, swimsuits, evening gowns, four purses makeup and toiletries . . . and we are only staying two days . . . What the Fuck!!! One would think that as the adventure drew nearer the thought process, including common sense, would kick in and items would start to be eliminated . . . one would think! However this is Granny and Ellie May and it is what it is and it is much safe to just stand back and watch the Train Wreck happen.

The day before the adventure the list was made and finalized and the packing began. I set my clothes that I wanted to be packed out, which immediately received commentary from Ellie May "That's all your taking"! I informed her that we were only staying two days and that two pair of socks and underwear, two T-Shirts, two button up shirts two pair of shorts and one pair of pants are all I needed. That's when she made the statement "You're only taking two pair of socks and underwear? Umm yeah  . . . Just so you know Ellie May . . . I don't plan on Shittin' My Pants this weekend!!! We left it at that, but who knows when she packs, she may just slip more items in the suitcase for me.

The day of the adventure, the final packing took place and ended with the statement "Good News . . . It All Fit In One Suitcase" . . . Oh . . . and one duffel bag. That was followed by the statement "Did You Pack The Ice Chest"? The 60 quart ice chest and snack bag was packed here at Ellie May and Jethros' house and I would bet 1 million dollars the the same was packed at Jed and Granny's place . . . All for a two day stay in what we were now calling "The Mansion".

So to sum up here is some information that may come in handy when following future posts regarding the "Country Club Adventure"

Pam = Granny Clampitt
Dennis = Jed Clampitt
Joanie = Ellie May Clampitt
Ray = Jethro Clampitt

Shitload of Clothes packed at both houses = Check
Shitload of food and drinks packed at both houses = Check

LET THE ADVENTURE BEGIN . . . STAY TUNED!!!!

Where Has The Time Gone . . .

That's is what I have been wondering over the past few months. The kids are out of the house . . . Damn it's true. We had a left over grand dog as a result of Joey going into the Navy. This resulted in us rescuing our newest addition to the crazy little family from the pound so Joeys dog would have a buddy. We have a zoo and I will write more about them in a later post. Until then peace out.