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The Great Windpoint Fireworks Escapade
by Tony M. Isaacs
The Great Wind Point Fireworks Escapade all started when my cousin Jeff (a lifelong running buddy and partner in crime) and I took our sons camping at Wind Point Park at Lake Tawakoni one July Fourth holiday weekend several years ago. Well, the fact is, there was another interesting episode that happened before we actually got to Wind Point Park at a different part of the lake, because when we first arrived at Lake Tawakoni, we didn't go to Wind Point, but instead tried to find a campsite that had better water access along the shoreline, since most of the campsites at Windpoint were on a bluff high above the water and a bit of a walk down to the mostly rocky shoreline.
After checking a couple of alternate parks we found what we though we wanted. I
can't remember the name of the place, but it was in a shallow part of the lake,
with plenty of grassy and sandy shoreline where you could beach your boat within
easy walking distance of your camping spot, and we found an empty space that
seemed just about right. We had scarcely got our tents and campsite setup when
we thought we had truly found a camping paradise because we saw that almost the
entire campsite was taken up by single women camping out together - and some of
them were lookers too!. Jeff and I were rubbing our hands in glee and telling
each other that the weekend was sure to result in some fishy business (we often
deluded ourselves that way), and then we noticed that the women were pretty much
paired up and that their affinity for one another ran a bit beyond mere
friendship. They were hugging each other, holdin' hands and kissing even! And
many of the female "couples" seemed to have one stronger, almost manlike partner
and another more subservient, more, um, feminine partner.
We had pretty much gotten the general idea of what was going on when another
male camper there told us "I have a trailer here at this park, and I'm not gonna
miss the holiday weekend, but I really hate this place on July 4th weekends
because that's the weekend those damn campin' lezzies come take over!" YIKES!
After a couple of half-hearted attempts at being friendly and imagining that our
irrestible macho-ness (two scruffy campers with their sons along - right!) might
persuade some of the prettier ones to take a second look at heterosexual
relationships, it became obvious that we were generating some very negative
feeling among the "she-males". And, quite frankly, it looked like some of them
could kick our butts! So we decided to pack up and get out of there
lickety-split (sorry for the double meaning there, "ladies"!).
And so we decided to go to Windpoint Park after all. While we were both laughing
and shaking our heads at what we judged to be a criminal waste or perfectly good
female goods, and generally trying to outdo one another in thinking up jokes to
describe the camping lezzies (those weren't women, those were "whoa-men!"), we
passed by a few fireworks stands, and, since Jeff and I had never outgrown our
love of fireworks and mischief, it didn't take much pleading from our sons to
get us to pull over. With more alcohol than brains in our bodies, we dropped a
wad or money for some pretty impressive fireworks, including several of the
larger multiple-shot displays. When we finally settled on a camping site at Wind
Point shortly before sundown, we noticed that one of the park employees on a
little Cushman powered parkmobile (a four wheeled cart that was part go-cart and
part wagon, so that park employees could carry supplies and trash cans) that was
part cart and part wagon was giving a warning to a group of campers close by
about setting off fireworks. We also noticed that there was a bit of brushy
growth beside the other camper's spot and that we could approach their campsite
unseen once we crossed to the other side of the road. A plan was soon in the
making!
Just around dark, we dispatched our two sons to the far edges of the park on
their bicycles and gave each one a lighter, a couple of cigarettes and a couple
of large multi-shot fireworks, so that they could set up time-delayed fireworks
at two locations apiece. After giving them a couple of minutes head start
towards their destinations, we snuck over to the brushy area right beside the
other campers and prepared our own time-released large firework display by
lighting a cigarette, breaking off the filter, and sticking the firework fuse
into the unlit end of the cigarette. A few minutes later, our sons returned and
we waited for the show to begin. The timing was almost perfect. The first
firework to go off was the one by the other campsite and the park employee
turned out to be very close by. The fireworks were still going when he came
racing up with his little orange revolving light turned on and a couple of large
park trash cans bouncing around in the back and he proceeded to begin reading
the other camper's the riot act! He would have no part of their protests, having
already warned them twice, and was about to kick them out of the park when the
first of the other fireworks went off at one far end of the park. Off he went to
the new pyrotechnics site! Just about the time we could see his blinking orange
light get to the site, another of our fireworks started gong off at the far
opposite end of the park, and in no time at all, here came our hero charging by
in search of the perpetrators.
No sooner had he arrived at that site than, you guessed it, another fireworks
went off back towards the other end of the park and again he came charging up on
his parkmobile, except this time he decided to take a shortcut off the paved
path to get a better jump on the firework terrorists. It had rained a bit the
night before and the ground was still a bit sloppy in some of the shaded areas -
like the area between two trees he tried to cut through. His parkmobile skidded
sideways and managed to get stuck tight between the two tree and throw him and
the two trash cans off into the mud. He got up, wiped the mud out of his eyes,
looked down at his soiled uniform, looked at the spilled debris and garbage from
the trash cans, looked at the stuck parkmobile, and then kicked his muddy park
hat across the ground and said, loudly "I quit! It's bad enough havin' to empty
out smelly trash cans and clean up shitty toilets all day long, but they don't
pay me near enough for this bullshit!" and he stormed off never to be seen
again, the parkmobile still turned on and the light still blinking. Our campsite
and the almost evicted campers literally rolled on the ground laughing. We never
told them that it was us who were the perpetrators, since we almost got them
expelled, but I think they had a pretty good idea.
Now at this point, you're probably thinking that the story is over - but no, it
still had a final chapter to play out. About an hour or so later, after the park
folks had come and rescued their parkmobile and stopped cruising the area, we
rigged a final firework - the largest one we had. It had something like 24 large
tubes and measured about 18" by 18". Not far past our campsite, down through a
little draw and a few scattered trees, was the bathroom and shower combination
for our part of the park. Groups of people, mostly women and some children were
making their way back and forth to the restrooms and showers to get cleaned up
or relieved for the night, and they had to pass down through one fairly dark
area on their way to the showers. The perfect area for a firework surprise.
So, we set the mega- firework in place with the lit cigarette for a delayed fuse
and waited. And waited. And waited some more. Finally, we had pretty much
decided that either the firework was a dud, or more likely, that the dampness
had put the cigarette out before it could reach the fuse. Just as we were about
to go retrieve the firework for inspection and possible re-deployment, a large
group of about 6 women and 3 or 4 girls came down the road wrapped in towels and
carrying a couple of satchels of supplies came down the road and turned off on
the path to the shower. "Crap" said my cousin, I hope they don't see our
fireworks." "I just hope they don't step on it and ruin it", I replied. Just as
they got to the dark spot where the firework was sitting, we saw a little orange
spark, heard an "eek" sound from one of the girls and saw a couple of the women
jump sideways. Then "BOOM, WHOOSH", "BOOM-WHOOSH", "BOOM-WHOOSH" the firework
began going off right in the midst of the group of females. Towels and satchels
wet flying, women and children began squealing and, seconds later, several
people came pouring out of the restrooms and showers. When they realized that it
was fireworks, some stood back and watched the display. Others, like us, found
it more fun to watch a couple of guys who had ran out of the showers in the
altogether to find out what was going on and to watch some of the women who were
a few beats late in realizing that they had dropped or lost their towels in all
the commotion and that those same towels were all that they were wearing on top
on their way to the shower!
The rest of the weekend was fairly mild, at least by our standards (which meant
only a couple more minor hi-jinks). When the weekend was finally over we packed
up and headed back to our homes. As our exhausted sons lay sleeping in the
backseat, cousin Jeff asked me , "Boy are we gonna be in deep doo-doo if our
wives find out about this weekend. Should we tell the boys to keep quiet?" And I
thought about it a second, and then answered, "Nah, that'll just make 'em want
to tell about it that much more. Besides, who's going to believe 'em?"
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