It was Karin's stagette over the weekend. Friday night I left straight from my fine last day of work and headed up to Whistler, our local stunning (and expensive) mountain resort.

The first night we had a fondue party a la 1976, in keeping with the decor of the cabin we stayed in. It belongs to Karin's father and he's had it since before she was born. The prevailing colours are brown, avocado green and beige, and the odd orange thing. The tiles in the bathroom are cream with dark brown circles that resemble amoebas. Sezzy.



Then we drank mucho. It was pretty good times - eight girls.

Prerequisite crotchless panties


The next morning we hauled our tired, hung-over selves up to the "Adventure Ranch" up near:
Mt. Currie

Yep. Killer name, that Adventure Ranch. Got ourselves some horses. I stuck my foot in my mouth promptly at the beginning of the ride when it was commented by one of our party that the staff must make fun of us City Girls. I said "well, at least we aren't American Tourists. What is that, a horse?".

Turned out the woman next to me was from North Carolina.

Sigh. I'm starting to get used to the taste of feet.

So the ride was good, though not particularly 'adventurous' as the name of the ranch tried to purvey. The fastest we got was to a trot. Wheee. I tried my best to remember how to post from my riding lessons when I was 8. I'm not sure I got it right; the horse was probably thinking "wtf is she doing?".

Speaking of my horse, he was the cheekiest lil bastard. He would try to sneak a bite on the trail, and as we were asked to keep them from doing this as best we can, I would give him a yank on the reigns and urge him forward again. He, in turn, yanked back, and hard enough nearly hauled me "over the handlebars", so to speak.

Whiskey

My arms still hurt.

At the end of this little 'adventure', it came to be time to run into the village and dress Karin up in ridiculousness while parading her around for all the ahem, american tourists. So this we did.





At this point, I had about all I could take of a group of women. I can't really stand to be around an all female group for very long, so I was glad to get back to the cabin to find the concurrent stag party waiting to meet up with us. What a sexy group!

Raucus messiness ensued, full of drinking, strange boob and bum competitions, the limbo (oh god) some kind of fitness class, and the couple who wouldn't stop making out on the floor.

Oh, and this guy

My Karin, I love you hon...many happy years with Dave.