Monday, July 18, 2005

Oxygen Sensor, 2003 Yukon Xl

class trip to the Muätital

Few have any idea where the Muotathal is above all, never mind with a Oberalm (called the ur-resident, Roger correct me, lie if I'm wrong) said. Instead circulate the wildest stories and I know-someone-anyone-the-knows-sagas. So shall move the allegedly unusual for our latitude skull shape of the local people, therefore, that a few centuries ago Russian troops invaded the valley and the maids and their wives to the barn Schweinkram indecently crowded. This led to a generation of potato-headed Swiss Inner their Russian impact to this day remained. It is, however, to advise a drunken Muotathaler this version of his family tree to get closer. During the four semesters of computer science
shit, unfortunately, only half we've brought so far behind us, gathered most of my class in Muotathal to celebrate something. So low-quality meat on the grill, beer in hand, nonsense babble, sleazy tell jokes, sentimental, and with growing booze as well as the arrogant bigshot (a couple of fellow sufferers Class and myself found) nice.
To counter this, and because wild valleys give no cause for style uncertainties, we contented ourselves with the best. Starting from beef tenderloin to this newly acquired extra set, made in West Germany, we had our own little gourmet kitchen.
Somehow, the alcohol is not enough, or there are structures that are not so easy to break, at least the usual little group sat together again. After a few bottles of beer and numerous discourses on breasts, perfect intimate shaves and sexual preferences (to the Klischeeverherrlicher: not all computer science students want to Klingons), we took a small Exploring, led by a classmate who rightly called Oberalm, to the local pub (in Switzerland, preferably "Pöbb" pronounced). There we were told that the store only reason not burst at the seams, because the "Tann-town festival" took place and all the drinking-takers would give the edge there. That was definitely what for us.
Although we were not asked if we would have a warning at all because of a four-wheel drive vehicle, of course not, we plunged boldly into the adventure. The mountain is calling! To seek a low cost time-Techno-Hit of the 90 to .
After about 15 minutes, single-track mountain road mit Neigungswinkel an die 20 % erreichten wir besagtes Tann-Fäscht. Was uns erwartete übertrifft die kühnsten Älpler-Romantik-Fantasien der gesamten Sünnelipartei. Einfach sagenhaft. Die bewaldete Bergstrasse wurde immer lichter und ein kleines Plateau mit Hof bildete sozusagen die Sackgasse. Rings um den Viehstall, welcher notabene als Konzertsaal für urchige Handorgelmusik herhalten musste, parkten reihenweise die Autos bis weit den Hang hinauf. Was sofort auffiel – der örtliche Subaruhändler hat wohl keine Konjunkturflauten zu beklagen. Die Besucher des Tann-Fäscht waren, wie unser Guide konsterniert feststellte, wenig „hiesigi“ was soviel bedeutet wie, nicht von hier. Stattdessen aus den umliegenden Kantonen UR, NW, OW, ZG, and even one from Züüüüriiiii and that's saying something, because Zurich is known to even the most fashionable city in the world, so this party must be something special.

As for me, however thoughtfully agreed - were nowhere to be fierce bald-Rütli Schwoerer seen. On the contrary, it was laughed heartily, and generous to each other zugeprostet snuff distributed. You could Anrempeln had someone, accidentally spill beer on the jeans of a girl, her boyfriend for dinner easily eaten half a cow, or contact someone on the walk, trot the same without the ambulance had to be (even purely from a geographical point of view nonsensical).
After a few minutes I had understood as will be most easily communicated, namely by means of a loud call, but of something indistinct and high holding the bottle. What I naturally wanted to try it immediately and the two most beautiful girls with a boisterous "Schoeni Sännerin" welcomed ... and lo and behold ... I picked up a shy smile and bottle.

Maybe I had up to now a completely wrong picture of this Talvolk. Maybe the people here have found a way to deal with each other without having to pursue each other with their heads. Something familiar, where everybody knows everybody and everything all by all . Know I'm really impressed.

The only thing strange was in the dressing room. AC / DC must operate well in Muotathal a merchandising stand, different is the variety of badges and T-shirts can not be explained.

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