9 people

Ben Rupe
Dave Marti
Joe Thill
Joel Ahrens
Kris Cardwell *
Michelle Van Zante (Anderson)
Sue Thill (Erickson)
Tad Van Zante
Tim Hotchkin

* first timers
Click on the above pic to download a very infotaining and
highly edutational PowerPoint presentation created by
senior Yellow River documentarian Timothy Hotchkin.

Note: You must have MS PowerPoint installed on your computer to view this file.

After you download this file, this particular webpage
(i.e., YR23 page 2) may be unavailable for an hour, but the
main YR23 webpage (i.e., YR23 page 1) will probably still be available.

A printout of this presentation has been provided for your inconvenience.
It's located in your 3-ring YR binder, under the tab labeled,
"Bacchus and Dionysus in the 21st Century:
Paradigm Shifts, Synergies and Risk Analysis of Yellow River: Veni, Vidi, Vomiti."
Yellow River 23: An Epic Saga (abridged): It Was a Drunk and Stumbly Night...

by Timothy Hotchkin, Grade 11


When Tad, Michelle, Joel, and Kris arrived on Wednesday, I was at the start of my dinner and my first glass of wine.  During the course of the evening, I finished that bottle and one other bottle of wine.  Then I decided that I needed a little more booze, so I had three Woodchuck ciders.  I know what you're thinking and I agree...Brilliant!  So at some point we all decided to go to bed.  I'm not exactly sure all the details here (and since the others were in their tents they can't make this any worse than it already is), but I know that in the state I was in, my tent became an impregnable fortress.  As my arch enemy gravity held my with his unmerciful grip to the welcome mat outside my tent, I swatted helplessly at the door which was obviously broken since my flailing hands were doing nothing to move the zippers keeping me from the warm embrace of the sleeping bag on my new cot.  Next thing I remember was vomiting profusely.  I was later told that I launched at least three salvos into the misty night.  Thanks to the evening's rain and the voracious raccoons, there was no evidence in the morning as to where the incident happened.  Then, somehow, I managed to get into my tent.  The details on how are lost to the ages, but my trials were not over there.  My arch enemy had not let up his relentless hold on me.  Gravity toyed with me and played an array of cruel games keeping me from the comfort of my new cot.  So, I just decided "screw it, I'm going to sleep on the bottom bunk."  For those of you not keeping track, the bottom bunk of a cot is what some might call 'the ground'.  During my sleep, gravity must have gotten bored since I woke up in bed trying to put together the broken pieces of the prior evening.  Thankfully, my fellow campers were there to help in their own inimitable fashion.  And for that, I was thankful.