TIME OUT #2 – Post # 18 – Day 71: July 13, 2014. On board: No one
Forty years ago, the summer after we graduated from college, my friend and college roommate Dave Luciano and his two housemates decided to host a party at the small rented three bedroom suburban subdivision house where they lived. They had no idea who or how many would show up – about 75 people came. Did I mention that it was a small three bedroom house in a suburban subdivision neighborhood? Overflow sleeping arrangements comprised of tents scattered throughout the lawn. The third time the police showed up on Friday night, about 1:00 AM, as I recall, they were quite serious and made it clear that everyone had better be gone first thing in the morning (they were savvy enough not to force us to vacate that night, knowing that many people would have to drive). The next day, Dave & Company moved the party to a local state park, returning to the rented house in the middle of the night – very quietly, again with many people sleeping outside in tents. An hour or two before dawn, it started to get windy – VERY windy. Soon people were desperately trying to hold their tents on the ground. The noise from the wind grew to a deafening roar, then gradually subsided. The next morning, a path of total destruction was discovered a couple hundred yards from the house, taking down all the trees in its path and blocking the road with downed trees. A small tornado of the type that occur in western Massachusetts from time to time had passed a couple hundred yards from the “tent city” in the back yard.
So began a 40 year tradition – a party each July, usually attended by 75-100 family and friends. Starting with Year 2, the party has been held at a ski house in Vermont. It has evolved from what could generously be called “frat party” status in the early years through child-rearing years to a gathering that is now dominated by the twenty-something and thirty-something Second Generation (some “frat party” remnants still emerge from time to time…). We’ve managed to keep it fun and exciting each year, but we’ve been successful in avoiding the level of excitement of the first year of cops and tornadoes.
So we left the boat near Fenelon Falls, Ontario, rented a car, and drove to Killington Vermont to attend the FORTIETH annual party commemorating that first year. Here are some pictures from the long party weekend:

We started the tradition of a “kids vs. adults” soccer game when the kids were little and we could be assured of beating them. That didn’t last long. Now we arbitrarily divide into two teams and the older folks mostly just get in the way – but we’re still out there playing!

We bring grills, food, beer, and everything else needed for lunch at the fields. Wendy & Nif watching the show.

A new tradition this year was a “cornhole” tournament, complete with brackets, playoffs, and trophies

Volleyball games go on nearly non-stop through the weekend, both at the house and at the athletic fields. You’d better be prepared to sacrifice your body. The court at the house is adjacent to a steep hill that goes about a half mile to the valley below (notice the orange fence). Job One is to keep the ball from going over the fence and down the hill

There is a pool adjacent to the athletic fields – a great way to cool down throughout the day or to just hang out! Left to right, Russ, Mary Beth, Barb, Trish, Louise, Elizabeth, Danielle, Colleen, Jen, and Ange

After a dinner spread, the serious partying starts – Joel & Kevin are the makers and purveyors of the margaritas, while others wisely stick to beer, wine, or their favorite drink

Saturday night features dancing on the outside deck till the wee hours. This year, Laura & Emily rented DJ equipment and developed an awesome playlist including some classic “baby boomer” music with a healthy dose of “second generation” music mixed in. We ended the evening with our unlikely traditional last song – “My Way”, by Frank Sinatra at 1:15 AM, to which we shamelessly sang along at the top of our lungs – not a pretty sight (or sound!

The women often take to the floor for various line dances – I have no idea where they learn to do them – I think it’s innate. I sometimes try to join in but usually end up hurting myself

At about midnight, someone turned on the makeshift lights over the volleyball court. In between volleys, the players danced to the music, stopping briefly to hit the ball when it was served

While the baton is in the process of being passed to the Second Generation, the Third Generation is starting to make their presence known – we had three Third Generationers this weekend, including Liam, Ryder, and Charlotte (Liam shown here)
So now that the weekend is over – back to the Great Loop. We drive back to the Joint Adventure tomorrow (Monday), and plan to cast off the lines on Tuesday morning. In the meantime, our friends Jason & Kerrin sent us some pictures that they took of us as we cruised near them over the last couple of weeks. Here are a few of them: