Cuyamaca

 

I’m not sure whose idea it was, but we decided to celebrate the end of The Lopilla’s bachelorhood by getting blasted at Cuyamaca. How we made it through the night without a complaint or visit from the park ranger, I have absolutely no idea. The Lopilla was in fine form, performing a suspiciously fast transformation from stone-cold sober to vomiting and passed out. In honor of his marriage, we decorated him with pine needles and small children. I think we fished for about 15 mins. the next morning, and Lakshan caught a trout.

 

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