It’s possible that things are getting out of hand. It’s been two weeks since we’ve been able to ski Breckenwolf because, you know, warmest year on record. Damn you China and the global warming hoax! And when we can’t ski on Whiskey Wednesday, we have to come up with “alternative activities.”

First, we just went to the climbing gym and then hit a bar to play ping pong. It was a wonderful night, but nothing too crazy, even though we had our ping pong paddles ceremoniously removed from us by the bouncer. But this week, one of the founding fathers of WW decided to take it up a notch and designed a series of sporting events that spanned multiple police districts and violated at least three city ordinances. There was hatchet throwing (a common pastime among WW members), archery, a light dive bar tour, rock climbing and finally ping pong and a gastro adventure that included gas station burritos and hot pockets. In that order. I missed the first half of the evening because my wife said I couldn’t drag the children on a hatchet/archery/dive bar adventure even if I ordered an Uber. Needless to say, it was a full evening full of spiritual fellowship and revelry.

If this trend of escalation continues though, someone’s gonna get killed with a trident. We spent a solid 30 minutes at the last bar discussing the practicalities of getting into falconry while sipping pints of New Belgium’s new Voodoo Ranger IPA. Maybe even joining a skeet shooting club. Dear God, let it snow so we don’t join a skeet shooting club. We need to go skiing again because, as a group, we don’t need to be anywhere near shotguns. Our wives won’t stand for it.

Luckily, the weather is supposed to turn. A cold front is on the way. Breckenwolf has already started blowing snow again. With any luck, we’ll be back on the snow (read: haphazardly groomed ice) trying to push each other off the mountain like adults. Safety first. Even on Whiskey Wednesday.