About 45 dedicated Confused members (the ones who donate at or above the $10,000 level) descended on Coast Camp, near Point Reyes. Our goal was minimum impact, maximum decadence. Yes, we dressed up; yes, we hauled in (and out) every conceivable convenience for modern living; no, we're not all nuts, but thanks for asking.

The impeccably attired chefs mounted an extravagant feast in the evening, occupying no less than three picnic tables, and requiring at least six stoves and several lanterns. Shrimp sautéed in butter, a flambé thing of some sort, rack of lamb a la Coleman, and many other culinary marvels were presented for the enjoyment of all. Large quantities of alcohol were consumed with amazing efficiency and gusto, and XGK's roared ineffectively into the starry night.

Much of this spectacle was lost on me as I struggled to heat an ill-conceived and obscenely heavy mixture of beans and vegetables on a barely simmering stove. This after my trusty MSR RapidFire suddenly fired rapidly (replace these at least once per decade). A word to the wise: you snooze, you lose. Next year, I'm bringing a six-pack and a fork. All bets are off - don't get between me and the food :)

No wind was to be found, or fog for that matter, as the intrepid party-goers hurried to stash leftover food in any convenient place (convenient for raccoons). A bonfire was gathering strength on the beach, and a strange cry echoed off the cliffs:

"W H E R E ' S   T H E   H O O O O O O C H ?