Sunday, June 8, 2008

Sunday River

I'm going to give the golf trip to Sunday River an 8 on a scale of 1-10: 10 being the highest. The schedule broke down quite differently than I had anticipated in the previous post. Breakfast, 18 holes on the most awe inspiring course I've played on. Just being on the mountain was good enough, being up there golfing was a bonus. The course was challenging, and I guess it was a bit rain or something like that. So there were patches of funk, and a couple of greens were under repair, over all it was great. I started out the day playing bogey golf, that didn't last too long and my game fell apart like it was supposed to. Every outing tends to have those 2-3 shots that make you feel like a pro, that keep you returning to the course to give it another whack, my day was loaded with them Saturday. (After a long day out in the sun nothing is better than a piss warm pool and a boiling hottub.)

If you happen to make it to Sunday River, Stoo's Brews are darn tastey. I would stay away from the 420 I.P.A. though, it kinda tasted like feet smell. No joke. (his Porter is good). Stoo is the brewmaster for the pub we migrated to for evening refreshments. Resort towns are nice if you catch them inseason, or off season if you want to be alone. I think the 4 of us were the only people in one wing of the Hotel. 5floors, at least 500 rooms, 4 dudes.

I wanted to pick a few details from the trip to highlight the adventure, but couldn't narrow the field. It was just a flat out awesome trip.

And now,.,..........ANNNNND NOW, I'm back in the office, thinking that I should move to Maine, or get a better job that allows for weekends like this one more frequently.

My phone died Friday evening so no pics from this guy.


Kate said...

Where'd the other 2 points go?

Shaggy Bob said...

A 10 is pretty darn impossible. To my knowledge there are no rivers of beer; with overly promiscuous nekkid amazonesque ladies carrying endless plates of nachos covered in gravy fries, wading around. The second is just my time schedule, the internal clock got a little cattawompus, I need a day job. I'm still aweful at a.m. I had a blast with a capital B. You couldn't pick a better crew of morons to get rowdy with.

So I guess technically it's really a scale of 1-8.

Kate said...

Fair enough. I guessed that perhaps the lack of loose women would have contributed, but one never knows with you-all.