Florida and Beyond

Wyatt and Nick before departure
from PDX

Hi all. Nick here.

When Wyatt and I, weary from our flight, stepped out of the gate to see Aryan, laughter found its way out of our tired mouths. Aryan stood, dressed in a suit in the Florida weather, dark sunglasses, motionless. He held a white labeled sign:

GIAMPIETRO, N
FLUCKIGER, W

An evocation of our similar greeting for him, back in March, when we flew him to Portland for Spring Break. His big, white teeth were bared by his grin and we exchanged hearted hugs and handshakes. "Good to be reunited with such a good friend," I thought to myself.

"I've got a surprise for you, friends."

He led us to our baggage, so I could grab my big red checked bag (thanks Tori). I immediately spotted it and snatched it from the conveyor, and we went straight to Aryan's car.

"Gentlemen," Aryan said, rummaging through his trunk and trying to hide what he was grabbing, "I want to start this off right." He pulled out a bottle of expensive whiskey, and poured for Wyatt and I a small bit. Wyatt knelt like he does, tapping his cup to the ground for his fallen brothers in Afghanistan. Then we loaded our bags into the trunk an left the port of Orlando.

"Do you guys want to go home, or go out? I know ONE good microbrewery in Orlando, and they have fantastic food too."

At Aryan's place, beards shaven for
the trip.

Our response? Guess.

So we found ourselves at Sea Dog Brewery, not ten minutes from Aryan's home in Windermere. We ordered the waiter's recommended beers, a light peachy ale and an "everyman" beer. And we ate, drank a bit, and were generally humid and merry.

We went home and Aryan showed us to our rooms, where we slept until the next day. Light breakfast cooked by Aryan's wonderful and hospitable mother. Then we left for UCF's rock climbing gym.

The grips on a rock climbing wall are engineerd for sadism. Chalk is your only reprieve and even with that your wrists will cry for mercy if you're new. And I surely was. After some bouldering across a route called "TRAVERSAL," and a 5.6 toprope, I resigned to rest my wrists and give my new camera lens a proper workout.

NIKKOR 50mm F1.8 AF/S. The wide-open aperature and snappy autofocusing servo let you pop and shoot with amazing quality and style. Results included.

Aryan's 5.7 climb.

Wyatt's climb.

Aryan, who has been working hard to improve his rock climbing abilities, let us witness his first successful 5.7 toprope climb. Wyatt tried the same route but, tired from extensive bouldering and winning a spontaneous pull-up contest, didn't make it all the way.

VIDJYAGAMES

We headed home to enjoy Mr. Sarpa's fine smoked steak, and we immediately went out again for a barcade called Player One. There we met with Aryan's old friends from high school, with whom he was in a jazz/funk band called Studebaker Hawk. They proceeded to immediately reminisce about such songs as "Hot Pocket Sunrise," and "Corn Porn." We played NBA JAM. Utah Jazz versus Orlando Magic. Spinning double front flip dunks. Flaming nets. Glowing shoes. NBA JAM.

We were out late that night.

Waking up late on the 30th, we coordinated with our good friend Adamsloan. Adamsloan used to live in Portland, where we I'd known him since the 9th grade, and he moved to Florida to pursue a life of machining, and love. We drove to the Clearwater area and had fantastic pizza at The Mellow Mushroom.

Then we took a look at Adam's Kawasaki Ninja 500cc. Oh, but it purred. Adam rode SQUID that day, but he was adroit and accustomed to riding the little beast. He led us to Clearwater beach, where we enjoyed that beautiful sun and sand.

"That's just how Adam is."

Leaving a special tip for our waitress.

That little red beast bike.

Clearwater Beach.

MUSCLE Beach.

The ultimate suntan power.

Erica managed to join us, too!

What a great conversation!

Later, we made our way to the home of my close family friend, Debbie O'Connor. She greeted all five of us, including Erica (Adam's girlfriend) who joined us after she got off work. As the O'Connor gate opened to let us walk to the front door, the first thing Aryan spots over the water -- which they have instead of a back yard, was a dolphin jump into the sky. It wasn't Orlando, but it was definitely Magic.

Debbie made small talk with all of us, so kind and warm and welcoming, and forced two bottles of wine and a bottle of whiskey on us before we left.

We saw a dolphin!

It was great to see Dan and Debbie.

We drove through a proper lightning storm on the
return trip.

The whiskey mysteriously disappeared that night. Not sure what happened, but it was probably for the better so we didn't have to pay for shipping or duties. What a lucky coincidence.

The clear weather on one of our
final drives.

1 July, 2014. We eat a Wyatt-cooked breakfast and make final preparations for our trip. We clean the rooms so graciously lent to us. Then we drive to Alamo Car Rentals and pick up our one-way ride to Miami, where we plan to depart from FLL: Fort Lauderdale-Hollywood Airport. We blast noisy electronic music and keep the AC on high. Wyatt and Aryan talk about hunting and anatomy in a nonchalantly-gory way. We stop for food. We eat fried gator. We resume our trip.

About ten minutes away from FLL, it hits us: "We're about to abandon this car, our baggage, then the country."

We exchange looks. Breathe. Wyatt, look more excited I don't care if you've been all over the world come on man. Just kidding, we know he's excited too.

Aryan and I make Skype calls to our respective ladies (Hi Ayumi), and we board. Norwegian Air, flight 7042, for Copenhagen.

Here we come.

Our last moments before boarding in FLL.