A Trip to Solley's
It seems that a group of us anglers decided that on one particular Friday night we would trek the 3 or so miles to Solley's Disco. We figured we'd drink a few beers, dance a little, ogle the women, and then head on back to the camp. I don't remember who all was in on the trip but there were several. I do know that "Wojo", "Bass Assassin", myself, and "Bilbo" were in attendance. We had a pretty good time. About closing time we had a pretty good buzz on and decided to leave. It seems that there were only four of us left. "Wojo", "Bilbo", myself, and "Bass Assassin". We started loading up in "Wojo's" small truck. "Wojo" behind the wheel, me in the middle, with "Assassin" riding shotgun and "Bilbo" being banished to the back. We took off with Wojo steering and working the pedals and me grinding gears (it was a standard). We hit the dirt road at breakneck speed (approaching 70 mph on several occasions) and were literally flying over humps in the road. We kept hearing thumps from the back end but had completely forgotten about "Bilbo". After one particularly long period of being airborne, "Assassin" suddenly remembered our less than lucky rear passenger. We looked and he was hanging on for dear life. We stopped and asked if he was OK and although he had a look of sheer terror in his eyes and had a "white knuckled" grip on the sides of the bed he assured us he was fine. I don't think I'll ever forget hearing the words "Hey guys we forgot "Bilbo" is in the back". I still laugh to this day. Another happening at RAT.
Tom "Catfish the Younger" Hooper