a little poem by branderson

The tale of MLK last week has been told
By now you must on the 2nd trip be sold

While cabin 1 stole the narrative show
The 2nd cabin has a tale you should know

Whilst planning this trip Berdjis must have thought
"I'll put the quiet folk together and the complaining shall be naught!"

But when we arrived with carloads of booze
There was not even one resident who drempt of a snooze

We fell into groups and beer games did commence
We convinced all to play, even those on the fence

Names were exchanged and relationships did blossom
It was at this moment we knew cabin 2 was most awesome

Still, interest arose about cabin 1
Were they laughing, drinking, were they having fun?

Most of us wondered about sweet goings on
Is it somewhere that we'd want to party till dawn?

Yet before we could even check out the fuss
and perform a cabin 2 mass exodus

A scout returned with words that turned our eyes bright
"It's boring over there, they're all high as a kite!"

"Quiet cabin! Quiet cabin!" echoed off of the walls
Now we knew it was us having all of the lols

Socials were declared with shit-loads of pride
As we all were hitting our binge drinking stride

Of course we all knew our triumph would end
After all there were more people to meet and befriend

Cabin 2 had much more, oh no that part was not it
But if you were not there, tough titties, tough shit

For the secrets remain with its residents of glory
Plus I'm out of mad rhymes for this cabin trip story.

mmmm...mlk

As many of you may have already heard, SOS's MLK cabin trip was out of control this last weekend.   With two cabins and about 100 people, how could the recipe not call for a little debauchery?

 

I remember MY first cabin trip!

Friday night was when the magic began.  Some caravans headed out to Tahoe early in the morning in order to catch some lifts up the mountain while others had to wait behind and finish up classes.  Nonetheless, everyone arrived by 10pm Friday night with at least two bottles in hand and a shit eating grin on their face.  Within the first few hours we had puke spewed on staffers backpacks and chunks blown in the hot tub downstairs.

Yup, it was time for cabin trip season to commence.

Saturday morning was a doozy.  Many people awoke in areas of the house they didn't know existed, while some people woke up to people they didn't even know were on the trip.  We had the hungover-as-fuck group who decided to stay in for the day while the other half took a gander at trying to shred.  Many failed at attempting to be productive human beings while only the strong survived the day at Alpine.  As Friday night gave many a run for their money, Saturday night blew some people minds....and loads.

A lil' SB & Davis lovin' going on

The theme was BLT - No, no, we weren't doused with our favorite fried fatty pig meat and veggies, we were in Boxers, Lingerie and Towels!  We're so damn creative, we'll admit it.

While some men in boxers, some women in bras and just others in mullets grooved to some Deadmou5, the night was soon carried away with Beer Olympics.  We had a plethora of new and upcoming teams this year.  Vatican City had vanished under a sea of tears and last years champ, the IRA, was M.I.A.  Both teams were replaced by newer groups such as: Team Ottoman Empire (AKA IRA); Team Acid, Team Old As Fuck, Team Sweden, and of course Team Iowa (forgive me if I'm missing a few, I too was drunk as fuck).

As opening ceremonies were about to commence, tension began to heighten.  Adrenaline pumped through each shot-gunners veins as he/she prepared him/her self for a night of heavy, competitive drinking.

The only way to open any ceremony - shotgun!

War waged.  Boat races were finished under 3 seconds.  Quarters were plunked into unsuspecting shot glasses.  Shots were fired during furious games of beer ball.  And I'm pretty sure one person died whilst muttering the unforgiving word 'bizz'.  When all was said and drunk, Team Old As Fuck prevailed, showing the youngsters how to drink a damn beer...and drink it good.

But the weekend wasn't over! Oh no, my friends.  We were in for the long haul - for a three day marathon.  Although Sunday morning proved to be slightly more brutal than the morning before, the third night was what separated the men from the wieners.

I am DEFINITELY not a wiener

About a quarter of the people staying in cabin one had left which opened up some crucial rage-space.  There was now room for more activities than ever before while combining a slightly more comfortable sleeping situation for all.  Although the night was theme-less, there still seemed to a sparse supply of pants and shirts...which seems to be the standard protocol during a theme-less night.

Dupstep and old 90 classics blared on until the wee hours of the morn as some of the last standing tried to find a place on the crowded floor to sleep (many had even resulted to sleeping in closets).  Even with only 3 hours of sleep, the die hards were awoken to 'The Circle of Life', even though no life in them seemed to exist:

Nants Ingonyama Bagithi Baba!!

The cabin was then furiously cleaned from 8-11am. The breakables were removed from their hidden closet, scuffs were washed from the walls, and footprints from whatever dumbfuck decided to walk up the stairs covered in what seemed like train coal were sprayed and scrubbed away as best as they could've been.  As teary eyed cabin-goers sluggishly dragged their feet towards the door, their livers sighed in rejoice:

The weekend was over. 

The memories that can't be recalled in the house on Dollar Point will be lost in a haze of black, gray and red.  But hey, that's what cameras are for.

And remember: ALWAYS heckle whenever possible

jacksons hole invaded by hundreds of ski club mongrels

The 20 hour bus ride to Wyoming

Jackson's Hole received a gaping surprise this December when over 500 college students traveled 20+ hours from various places around California.  UC Davis, Santa Cruz, Irvine, LA, Santa Barbara, San Diego and Riverside met December 12th in the winter wonderland state of Wyoming ready to engage in the rage.

Fortunately, Davis' bus ride was not delayed over 10 hours due to a closed 80 freeway as it was last year.  We raged our little hearts the entire way, making new friends from different school, grades and countries.  Davis represented the rambunctious Irish (oi!), Germans, Swedes, and of course the drunken Americans...just to name a few.

Look at all them foreigners!

Upon our arrival, groups of 6-10 people split up to go to their amazing condos that were all a short walk away from each other.  Boarders and skiers alike were filled with giddiness when they realized each condo came with a balcony/patio, an assortment of beds, a heater, TV, plenty of bathrooms, a communal hot tub and of course a fridge full of cold beer (we don't eat food).

The first day's conditions weren't what many were expecting - the mountain was cold and icy and left little visibility at summit for less-than-fun times going down for a number of people.  Injuries were reported, some of which included twisted ankles and torn ligaments, along with an arrest that led a Davis student to spend three nights in jail (with a $1000 bail) for something so completely bogus it pains me to even spend my valuable time thinking about it - a major buzz kill considering AllCal hadn't properly commenced yet.

But ALAS! There is no whining when you're hanging out with SOS. You either NUT UP or SHUT UP and do the best you can.

Which is exactly what we did.

The night of December 13th, a welcome party was planned in which all the UC students were invited.  The theme was "Cowboy Beach Party" where members came scantily dressed ready for the beach and perhaps a long and hard ride on a black stallion.  In short, lets just say it was a good one.

The Cow Boy Beach welcome Party

It was at this party where we had our competitions for boat racing and flip cup.   For those of you who are a little behind on your drinking lingo, boat racing is when you drink a beer fast.  REAL fast.  I'm talking under 4 seconds if you wanna roll with the pros.  Flip cup can seem a little less intense, but my friend, you are wrong.  You are only as strong as your weakest player, so hope your suckiest recruit doesn't fuck up.  The competitions that are held during AllCal establishes dominance and bragging rights for an entire year until the next AllCal.  Many veterans take their drinking very seriously and will only recruit you to compete if you have a great track record or if you can fit an entire banana down your throat without triggering your gag reflex.

David can give you pointers

The lucky ones who were able to awake at a decent hour (before 12) and get to the mountain were rewarded.  The next few days of riding proved to ski clubbers that Jackson Hole doesn't fuck around. Sunny, clear and powdery runs were laid out for riders all day.  Many decided to hike the backside in search for fresh tracks - most were successful and were left satisfied in many ways.  For the injured, the bar at base camp with drink specials and strong bloody marys proved to be a great hangout place where not only friends were seen, but was a fantastic place to meet [sexy] locals from around the area.

Other competitions such as Race the Mountain (1st place Davis!) snow sculptures (LA took the gold with Davis in third) and broom ball (which Davis took the gold in, 2nd year in a row!) were done on Wednesday day/night. 

Broom Ball

After four steezy and orgasmic days of riding, the farewell party was ready to get going.  With our very own staffer, Will Bauer (also known as Dubzilla) on the turn tables and a gang of other competitions, the night was already considered epic before it began.
Around 10pm, the dirtiest of all the dirtys you have ever seen or thought about, started.  Dirty dancing in short is something that you need to see to believe.  But unfortunately for those of you lames you didn't go on AllCal, you will never see any pictures, videos, etc. due to obvious reasons.  As I have explained in other posts, it's basically a dancing competition except X-rated.  With the rules of NO NIPS NO PUBES.  But that's it.

After Dirty Dancing, the winners were announced.  Davis had been 2nd three years in a row, falling short to Santa Barbara each year.  As the announcers began to name off standings started from the bottom, everyone in the room seemed to be holding their breath.

It was down to the last three - Davis, Santa Barabara and Santa Cruz.

Who was the ultimate winner?

As soon as Santa Barbara's name was called for third place, it was enough to get every Davis student to change their pants.  Happiness erupted as our dominance was clearly placed over the 5-time champs of AllCal.  It was time for their reign to end - and END IT SHALL.

Allie and Branderson dancing in glee...with room for Jesus of course

When all was said and done, history repeated it self and Davis fell short of Santa Cruz.  Considering that SC hadn't won an AllCal in many years and are very close friends of Davis,  hard feelings were softened and were not as sharp as they were when Santa Barbara took the gold in Fernie, White Fish and Park City.

The trip is not only about winning, of course.  When you come on AllCal, you not only get a dose of consistent riding, you also meet some of the coolest, down to earth, ready-to-rage with an IDGAF attitude, rad people.  The atmosphere that surrounds trip-goers completely whisks them away from present reality and warps them into ski club-ality (a much more preferred type of living that most people can survive for about a week at a time).  The people you meet and the scenery that you get to see will maybe change your perspective of snow sports and the people who love doing them (aka we're AWESOME).  AllCal is the greatest, most unique and intense trip that many will ever go on.

Who am I shitting....it IS all about winning!  We'll see you next year, Santa Cruz.  Be ready to give up that solid gold trophy to your friendly neighbors at Davis.

now THIS is a true winner.

If you think THIS weekend was rad, Check out what we could probably do after NorCal