Saturday, 22 September 2012

Car Smashing, Hayrides and Mud Puddles

By defination 'hick' means 'a person who lives in the country, in a small town or in a backward community; unsophisticated person, a farmer, a countryman.'

A party is defined as 'a group of people gathered to have a good time together.'

Put the two words together and you get 'hick party.' A hick party is a party wherein people who like to play in mud, discuss or destroy cars and go to bonfires gather together in the middle of nowhere.

In previous years, the St. Thomas Hick Party has involvd carving pumpkins up with chainsaws and dropping pumpkins from the haymow. Last year was the first time the mud pit showed up and despite the rain some people had the guts to get into the mud. Old cars are also a must. Smashing them or driving them into ponds seems to be the thing. Why? Who knows. But it is fun in its own way.

When one of the girls described to her friends what happened at a hick party, the most common reply was "Don't die."

The Annual St. Thomas Hick Party, the fourth of its kind, kicked off Friday night with the destroying of an old car. First it got rolled down the hill a few times and then smashed some more with a sledge hammer. After that some brilliant boys had the idea of using a battering ram to remove the engine. Then those same boys, with some brainstorming from a girl, decided to hoist the car up to drop it from a great height.
Well, it only went up about two, maybe three feet, before the rope broke and seven boys stumbled backwards. They didn't land on the ground which would have made it so much more fun. The car, having been well smashed, was deserted for hotdogs and carrot sticks.

When everyone was full of hotdogs and carrot stick it was time for the hayride. Sixty odd boys and girls clambered aboard two wagons and headed down an old railroad track. Singing, talking and joking ensued as we bounced along.

When we finally arrived at our destination, about an hour later, we found a fire burning merrily. It was about, oh say, four or five feet high. In about ten minutes numerous bags of ships were consumed. Unfortunately, before we could get really excited about the bonfire, the rain started.

So back onto the wagons we went and rode to the shed. There we gathered around and sang some songs before closing with some words of encouragement. We were reminded that we should forgive as God forgives us.

Then the girls and guys seperated ways. The boys stayed behind at the shed to sleep on the straw, in the wagon of beans and a pile of corn. Sounds real comfortable. Of course at around three, a.m. that is, the traditional bacon cook off started. The boys fried bacon on the woodstove without a frying pan and then ate it. Most likely with their fingers.

The girls went to the Westervelds house. Close to thirty of us crammed into three bedrooms, the living room and the upstairs hall. Did someone say fire hazard? Try sharing one bathroom with that many girls. Thank goodness for kitchen sinks. Who needs a mirror to brush their teeth and wash their face? It is after all a hick party. We don't do things normally.

By eight o'clock Saturday morning the boys had arrived and started breakfast. Bacons and eggs were fried, filling the kitchen with their delecatable scents. Dutch pancakes, made the day before by Jake, were warmed up in the microwave and at nine o'clock the girls started filling their plates. After the girls were through the line, the boys began to wolf down.

Then it was time for the games. And in St. Thomas they are always interesting. The games began by dividing into four teams. Taking turns each team particapated in four different events.

One of the stations involved pulling an empty hay wagon through a course marked out with orange pylons and orange spray painted arrows.

Then there was the 'Plunger Plop.' The idea of the game was to toss a plunger into an old toilet. Depending on where you landed the plunger a certain amount of points was awarded.

Next was the tire change. Everyone knows how to change a tire, right? First the boys did it and then the girls. And we found out that some girls can actually change a tire faster then the guys. Hopefully the lug nuts were replaced tight enough or Kyle might just lose a tire somewhere along Iona Road.

Last but not least was lawn bowling. Only we used tires and logs. Not as easy as you think. Try tossing a tire at a bunch of logs. You can't roll it, it curves, tossing takes muscle. One thing that did work was the granny toss. That managed to knock quite a few logs down.

And then the real reason we were all running around. The Mud Pit. And it was muddy. What started out as a few fist fulls of mud being gently tossed turned into a full out brawl. After the first few minutes of timidity the mud began to fly in earnest. People were tackled to the ground and shoved into the mud, others were carried in whether they wanted to be or not. Fifteen or so people tossed mud, tackled friends and had a lot of fun. The on-lookers, or shall we call them wimps, sat on the sidelines and watched. They called encouragement and took pictures. And those pictures will most likely end up being posted before too long. What a sight they will be!

When everyone was muddy we climbed out and began the long process of hosing off. By the time everyone was cleaned it was lunch time.

For those who got changed fast there was the opportunity to shoot off a few rounds with some pellet guns and take pictures in the photo booth.

Mrs. Westerveld provided a  delicious soup and we all warmed up with that. After lunch the teams were directed to places to clean up and leave the place spotless.

The weather cooperated for us. It started out kinda seasawy, with the clouds hiding the sun, but after a bit the clouds left to bother other people and the sun stayed to warm us all.

So, a great big thank you to the St. Thomas Young People for putting on a wonderful, fun filled weekend. Nobody was hurt and God gave us good weather. Next year's should be just as epic.

A hint for all those bringing home your muddy clothes. Hose them all off before handed them to your mom to wash. Otherwise the mud pit might not happen next year.


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