A couple weeks ago, my good friend John LaRue suggested I take a trip somewhere warm. I have absolutely nothing keeping me here in Montana. No job. No obligations outside of prepping for the upcoming season. No chores. Why wouldn't I go do something different?
So I'm sitting at the brewery talking to some of the boys and we're all bitchin about the fact that the highs for the week aren't even going to reach the positive side of the the thermometer. Maybe it was the beer. Maybe it was a sense of sadness that I didn't have anything holding me back. Something was stirring. Something was pulling me. Something was making just want to flee. Boredom? Anger? Depression? Determination to prove something?
"Fuck this. I'm heading south." I proclaimed to the bunch. "I going golfing."
I emailed another outfitter friend I know down in Arizona and asked if he had any ideas on where I should go. He suggested getting on I-15 and drive until I hit St. George, UT. If there was still snow there, he said to keep going to Mesquite, NV. There are cheap hotels and the golfing is pretty solid.
That night I packed up some clothes and the next morning, got up, threw my bag of clubs in the back of the truck and loaded up the dog started driving. Twelve hours later, I was in the desert. The temps at 8 o'clock at night were nearly 60 degrees and realized, I forgot to pack shorts. That's a wonderful problem to have.
You can find out more about this little adventure, which includes some gambling, a lot of golf, good folks and even my experience buying weed by listing to The Montana Dream Cast. Yes. I said it. It's legal in Nevada so...click the link below.
John Chase's Nudity Ratio
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Keep 'em where they live...
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