It all started when the madman dropped the bomb thinking it wasn't going to go off, kind of like when we thought the other madman wasn't going to win, and well, here we are.
As always with this group, someone proposes something, everyone else signs up without thinking twice just in case it's something important they didn't quite catch, then a bank transfer link shows up and everybody's in.
That's how everyone signed up thinking we were camping in tents and that going to Balcarce was like going to Rosario, but it turned out it was never anywhere close. By the time we realized, we were all THERE, no tent in sight, trying to order things off a menu the restaurant didn't actually have, right after paying tribute to a great, unmarketed racing driver by visiting his museum.
We took over Balcarce, Boca fan, you can watch it on TV (doesn't rhyme but it still stings). With the obligatory raffle drawn, an official notary presiding and, oddly enough for the profession, FREE OF CHARGE, we just had to grin and bear whatever came up. A bathroom here or there, a plus-one here or there, a Leandro more or a Leandro less, we survived. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
Day 1:
The mission to conquer Balcarce was underway, a bit disorganized, and the will-we-won't-we-camp situation got going, and we finally sat down to dinner after unloading everything we'd brought. And that's when the virus kicked in…. It hit the adults. Apparently the first symptoms showed up when they forgot their kids didn't know how to cut their own food or serve themselves, luckily the board of directors stepped in.
Right after that, one of the Nicos was spotted celebrating, thinking he was finally alone and could enjoy himself, but in a masterstroke by Agus (nobody knows how he suddenly reappeared in the dining room), he was quickly reminded that no matter how young he was, he was still a dad just like everyone else. Wine away, time for bed. The first night passed between flashlights and tall grass; some snuck out blankets to smoke under the stars, and others smoked through the sacred blanket itself while watching cards go by. Don't be nosy, it doesn't matter who. To top it off, Leandro thought the stove felt warm and figured the best idea was to open up the wood stove and fan it, great experience, sleeping in a smokehouse.
Day 2:
Mate in hand, the only one awake, and the first to spot it, was Leo. He grabbed whatever was within reach to keep his hands busy, so there'd be no room left for the paddle. Disguised as a photographer, he tossed the boat over to Meli, who understood everything, except which way she was supposed to go.
We don't know the details, but apparently the film has to be developed in Miami. Meanwhile, back at the arena, there was no room for friendly matches. When the shift changed, calm returned. The notary who actually charges for her services... cleverly kept the score tied, except on the last play, where the expert's team faltered, distracted by Cristian, who was busy trying on every strange pair of shoes that turned up, and had no choice but to hand the win to the other Meli.
After lunch came the best part. The organizer had a brilliant idea. What better way to follow a huge asado than to go eat dessert up on top of the hill. It was a 2-hour walk just to finally reach the tangerines that gave the whole thing a healthy spin. All for nothing, because nobody ate them. New symptom of the virus: diving headfirst into a tupperware of sponge cake, while the little ones stared, stunned, at the local Tom Cruise, who gave them the idea that jumping off wouldn't be a problem at all. Brilliant.
By this point, Naty, in any of her variants, had already figured out that it had nothing to do with being at the edge of the map, or far away, or distant, or any other synonym you'd like, for the group's name to be: EXTREME. Before heading back among pit vipers and grass snakes, it was Valen who got it all figured out, and thought this whole climb-up-just-to-come-back-down thing was nonsense, so he had himself carried the entire trip. Always under the watchful supervision of another Nico, in charge of flagging every sketchy detour along the way so he could later bill overtime hours, worth even less than the ones from his actual job.
Toward the end of the day, under threat of the campfire, the little ones went off to sleep quickly, before having to sit through some inspired soul playing guitar and singing a song nobody knew, while the rest of the adults debated spicy topics under the watchful eye of an Emi who paced around behind them, rifle on his shoulder just like in his childhood, so that another Naty could let go of the aperol she'd mistaken for a pillow. Off to sleep again, because the real problem with kids, is the grown-ups!
Day 3:
Several people got up very early hoping for some extra help, but all they found was the sunrise. No fishing, no knot-tying, no SUP, nothing. Maybe they weren't quite believers enough. Like a classic Sunday, bright and early, we hit the road. It wasn't exactly the highway, but we went just as slow, though this time with helmets and gloves, like bricklayers, who knows why.
What was certain was that we had no idea what we were actually going to do, just like the day we signed up for the trip in the first place, until we reached the zipline forest and things became a bit clearer thanks to the goblins' questions. Another Naty realized that pretending to be a photographer was a great way to dodge activities, and got to work documenting everything. To the point that she's still sending videos to the group chat.
As noon approached, the mini "protesters" forgot it was Sunday and, shouting Injustice! Injustice!, blocked the path, leaving Ale stranded up top with her gloves on backwards while Pía zoomed past at full speed, also backwards. If there was a Tom Cruise around, why wouldn't there also be a Keanu Reeves!
Once the activity was over, several people had to be forced to take off their harnesses, it was already time for lunch. Award ceremony, and the closing photo of the whole event. We headed home with no casualties, satisfied after a weekend that made us stronger. With the kids infected with joy, and something else too, and a promise to do it all again next year. With the trunk full of memories, stories, and everything extra we brought back too. Obviously in the middle of total traffic chaos, like any classic Sunday, on the way home.
And that's a wrap, hopefully the madman they voted for starts doing as well as we did. Thanks, madman!
