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The plan was to start the evening with a meeting at 6pm at Chalo's, tucked neatly behind the Admiral Thriftway, who had Full Sail on full sale. I got there about seven, having ridden around war protesters for an hour on the bus, and hearing hubbub in the hottub, opted directly thereto. I joined Quigley, Chalo, and Ken from Austin, all already simmering.

Not more than 2 beers later the call came up from inside to out to get out the freakin' tub and put your clothes on, so the stew grudgingly complied. There was some alarm as to the closing time of WA State Liquor Store #43, and the dearth of liquors already acquired. So we rode.

We had seven. Chalo opted out from the party-going, having to complete a chopper for the BikeWorks auction, and calling "big day tomorrow." This left us with CQ, DJ, DK, DX, two JB's, and SB. Dautry was quick with the camera and scored some fabulous shots before we left, but declined as well to ride along. Ken wanted to stay back, too.

So there's just a little bit of uphill on California on the way to the liquor store. Can't quite 'members where the crest of the hill is. But it is pretty flat, all told, but not so flat as the gear-havers are made fun of for it. California Avenue SW is one sweet chopper ride on a brisk evening. We practiced formations: single file, 2-2-2-1,1-2-2-2, and my favorite, 1-2-1-2-1, because it's figure eight-y. Fun with the seven I tell ya. 1.5L of whiskeys were accumulated. And plenty of Cabana Boy liquers.

So we heard there was a party, and damn straight there was. We were a little confused as to the location and kind of pedalled around reading signs. Then who should roll by down California (passenging in a car, tsk!) but DS, and we decided to follow his car because he seemed to know where he was going, having an address or something.

And there was chickens and eggs and beer and booze and fire, a big warm fire, and frisbee and bathrooms and a nice lady with a big tray of brownies. And conversation and showing off of our bikes and maybe we got our picture taken more, and a coconut that we all shared. It was a houseswarming for Matt, and help in gettin' loaded.

But even though there were fires and pretty girls and kind vittles, the group had to leave once again. As someone with a tendency to become lost in West Seattle, I followed, abandoned the Ovalizer to his vices. We made quick and high-spirited time to the Puerta Vallarta Restaurant for a round of drinks. And back to where we began, where all reported back in timely fashion, but there were no test rides to be had on Chalo's new chopper, a missing bottom bracket being one of its problems, a lack of fancy bike tools the biggest.