Twas a rowdy group imbued with raucous laughter watching the black curling smoke lazily ascend into the bright morning sky above that cloaked hilltop mound. Indistinct chants and strange music filled the clear bright air with a fog of curious excitement. Crashing down the forested mound and spilling onto the meadow below the demonic sounds from the obvious debauchery floated across the meadow assaulting those innocents peacefully picnicking at that remote forest service site.

The rituals started very early and continued non-stop until the afternoon climax. Nervously peaceful souls monitored the weird activity around them and wondered, “What was going on?”.

Clearly one had to be careful as some sort of diabolical cult with their deranged rituals had invaded the forest. Not only that but these fiends even brought their children with them! Groups of strangely dressed twosomes and families constantly tramped up to the top of the mound then back to the picnic grounds. Upon their return the participants looked even more squalid and disreputable than when they left. Covered in sweat and coated with grimy smoke plus something indefinable they actually smelled worse than they looked. Gamey is the polite term for their condition.

It all made no sense! At the picnic grounds proper the rowdy tribe continued arriving all morning long until finally the parking lot was overflowing and cars had to be parked along turnouts on the forest service’s gravel roads. Joking and laughing while guzzling copious quantities of beer and stained with grime they presented a disgusting sight to anyone with a modicum of sensibilities. Fortunately grandma oddball and I had no such sensibilities. In fact we were a part of the clan causing all the trouble!

It’d been a long year and to put it mildly we suffered from that dreaded malady known as a brain numbing. Finals and prelims were over and everybody students, professors and especially spouses needed a break. In short we needed to relax and blow off some steam. That’s when we hatched the GREAT PLAN.

One of the professors came from Arizona where he was experienced at outdoor spit roasting. More importantly he had the “equipment” necessary to get the job done (basically some sharpened eight foot long 3-4 inch diameter poles with a one inch dowel inserted at one end as a t-handle plus some Y poles upon which to place the spits ). After a brief and one-sided debate it was decided. We’d have a party out in the woods where we would roast a couple of sheep, drink a lot of beer and generally have a good albeit silly time where we could relax and forget all the stress and pressure we’d experienced the past six months.

Taking the spit to a local butcher we had him skin and dress a couple of sheep and then wire them to our spits. Waiting until the appointed day we left early (some of us camped overnight in order to get an early start). With shovels, sludge hammers and bags and bags of charcoal we lugged everything up the hill where we dug a couple of shallow pits about six feet long, three feet wide, and about a foot deep. Filling the pit with charcoal we poured gasoline on the charcoal (yes I know this is dangerous especially in the woods but we were young and stupid). Standing back we tossed a lighted match into the rising fumes to start the fire-pit burning.

The resulting fireball was impressive. Even more impressive was the singed hair and scorched skin of those standing near the fire-pit when the “bomb” exploded. I have no doubt that the resulting hellish appearances had a pronounced effect on those not privy to the inner circle on the mound and may be partially responsible for some of the subsequent events.

Waiting about forty-five minutes until the pit fire was full blown we then mounted the spit on the Y poles and started our sheep roast cooking. This was actually hard and somewhat boring work but boring was good. At that moment we needed a boring activity that didn’t require thought. How else would you treat brain numbness?

The spit had to be constantly turned by hand and the charcoal had to be frequently replenished. This required frequent shift changes for all roasting activities and, of course, everyone had to come and watch the progress of the “barbeque”. While watching we all became a little silly (and perhaps slightly drunk). Laughing at the tiniest incident we at first occupied our time singing and joking while we worked but as the day progressed we got sillier and sillier.

At some point someone started a chant. Making up words as we chanted (this was decades before “rap”) we filled the air with truly atrocious lyrics. Then it started. I think it was the DRUMS that kicked off the dancing frenzy. We started dancing and chanting around the pits in a haunting display of goofiness until we were so tired that we simply lay down and vegetated for awhile.

The day’s activities had just begun at this point. Our wacky antics inspired some to retrieve guitars, horns, harmonicas, even kazoos from their cars to contribute to the party atmosphere. Then the whole scene replayed itself over and over again. When we got too tired we simply went down the hill to the picnic area to rest. So the day went with sheep roasting at the top of the hill and preparations being made downhill and across the meadow for the feast. Apparently this all looked rather strange to the other picnicking onlookers.

Mid-afternoon arrived and at last our cook declared the sheep done and ready for feasting. In the spirit of the occasion we had to perform a ceremony celebrating our success. It was a simple ceremony. A couple of us hosted a spit with the one of the roasted sheep while those not turning the spit for the other sheep “marched” behind us (okay so we were actually too drunk to march effectively). As were made our way down the hill and across the meadow laughter and singing punctuated the air accompanied by some creative dancing. Non-tribe onlookers appeared nervous as we approached.

Now a whole roasted sheep is an incredible sight. Roasted eyes protruding from the head seemed to especially upset our neighbors especially when carried by someone with no eyebrows, singed hair and blackened scorched skin. Washing off a large piece of plywood we deposited the sheep on the plywood placed on top of a table, removed the wire and spit, and proceeded with the carving.

As we lined up to receive our share of mutton from the chef we noticed that the picnic grounds were almost devoid of picnickers except for ourselves. However nearby a family with young children remained. We had plenty of food and wanting to be neighborly one of the spouses went over and asked if they wanted to have some mutton.

The response was immediate and unexpected, “no No NO NO” she replied and with each utterance she retreated further and further back away with a look of absolute terror etched on her face. Gathering their things and children they packed up and left almost in a panic.

I can’t imagine what possessed them to act that way. We all had a wonderful time!

Tags: family, Humor

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