Dirteee Thirteee!

Well, I can finally relax now because Mike's surprise 30th birthday party has come and gone, with no major disasters.  It is the first and last surprise party I will ever plan, because it was soooooo stressful.  It turns out he figured I was up to something, but he thought it would happen on Sunday, not Saturday, so it was still like 68% real surprise.
Meg, Steve and I had come up with a plan to tell Mike that we were going to Curt Gowdy State Park in Wyoming to ride bikes on Saturday, and all the guests would arrive at Steve's house before us and then do the 'shout surprise!' thing.  It went off without too much of a hitch, and the first order of business was to decorate Mike's bike with lots of small plastic pony toys, streamers, and a horn.  We also put decorations on the van: streamers galore, and a Happy Birthday banner on each side.

A plastic Pegasus was zip-tied to Mike's helmet for a finishing touch.

I had everyone divide into teams, and their first task was to do a blind food identification challenge.  The foods were: Cool Ranch doritos, Junior Mints, celery, strawberries, kiwi, cream cheese and hazelnuts.  Once each team's chosen taster guessed 5 of the foods correctly, I told a different team member the name of the first brewery (Mountain Sun), and they had to act out the name for the rest of their team before taking off on their bikes.  As an added incentive, I told them that the last team to arrive would have to do something embarrassing.
Not too terribly much later, we all arrived at the Sun and ordered some pitchers of beer and claimed a large table that had just been vacated.  I handed out the tools of embarrassment (ridiculous t-shirts from the Salvation Army store) to the losing team, who donned them rather enthusiastically, considering. Someone informed the staff of the Sun that it was a birthday celebration, so Mike was given a beer on the house and a toast from the whole restaurant.  Thanks Mountain Sun!

(forgot to raise the flash)

Our next stop was Fate Brewing, which is a relatively new Boulder establishment, having only opened this past winter.  When we arrived, I handed out paper pirate hats, felt eye patches and plastic swords, as well as a pair of Groucho Marx glasses, a random wig and an Elmo visor.

Swordfights promptly ensued (sorry Fate).

Surprisingly, the place doesn't serve pitchers of beer, just pints, so we groused about that good-naturedly and then ordered some beer and food.  I got a watermelon Kolsch, which tasted exactly like you would expect, but I was in the mood for something silly so I didn't mind.  Mike, Tom, Steve and I played a round of beanbags on the patio, and it was a complete farce because we decided to keep our eye patches on for the game and therefore had no depth perception whatsoever.

Meanwhile, Joy made friends with one of the ponies that had fallen off of Mike's bike en route from the Sun:

Once everyone was close to finishing their beers, I gave them their next task: put on a Disney princess stick-on tattoo, ride to Twisted Pine Brewery, show the tattoo to the bartender and follow their instructions.
At Twisted Pine, I asked the bartender to give each person a glass of beer, but not tell them what it was.  Once they guessed the kind of beer, they would receive a fake mustache to wear and their next clue.  Unfortunately, when people started showing up it became clear that they were much too impatient in applying the princess tattoos, and most folks just had a smudge somewhere on their arm or neck (or, in Brian's case, a tramp smudge).  The bartender was forgiving, however, and as we got our drinks we convened on the patio, where I gave out kazoos and the rest of the mustaches.

Brian led us in a rousing rendition of the Star Wars theme on the kazoos, and when the other patrons started giving us funny looks we finished our beers and set out for the fourth location: Boulder Beer.
And oh, happy day!  Boulder Beer was serving $2 soft tacos, so several folks ordered food along with their beer, and then we set to work applying the remaining mustaches to everything that seemed appropriate: the kittens on Brian's kitten t-shirt, the pirate hats, the Brad Paisley embarrassment t-shirt, the Elmo visor, and also embellished some eyebrows and sideburns.

We sang happy birthday to Mike (for the third time), haggled over the check with the waiter (he never brought me my beer!), had another swordfight, and debated whether we wanted to go back to Steve's right then or take a lap at  Valmont Bike Park and stop by 303 Distillery for some pickle vodka first.  The latter plan won the day,  so the flotilla rolled out of Boulder Beer and down the bike path.  On the way, we found an extremely appropriately decorated food truck, and of course had to stop for a photo shoot:

So many mustaches!

Once at the bike park, we got separated, so I heard but did not see that Steve took his tandem bike (sans Meg) over some jumps on the dirt jump section, and amazingly did not end up with a concussion or broken limb.

We regrouped later at 303, which was conveniently right off the bike path on the way back to Steve's house.  Some people had had enough by that point, and stumbled homeward, but those of us still proudly wearing mustaches and wigs and pirate hats rallied and ordered drinks.  I also tried a taste of 303's beef jerky-infused vodka, which tasted exactly like it sounds.

 At some point the grumbling of our tummies became too loud to ignore, so I called for a pizza delivery and we started pedaling back to Steve's.  Halfway there, Jeff spotted a 2x6 lying across a small stream and decided to try and ride across it.  It did not go well:

It's okay, he falls into ditches all the time.  We think there's some sort of magnetic attraction.

We pulled up to Steve's house at exactly the same moment as the pizza guy (amazing!), stuffed our faces, and played a couple rounds of beer pong.  I am just as terrible at it as I was in college, but Ashley and Arrelaine totally killed it!

Almost time for a re-rack!

Emma is either astounded or nonplussed, it's hard to tell.

I think they must secretly hang out at house parties on the weekend.

Brian and Diana found some of the surviving kazoos and provided us with a soundtrack.  When they played the Indiana Jones theme music, Steve mistook it for the Star Wars theme and decided to show us all his (non)appropriate undercrackers:

 That's Darth Vader, if you can't tell.

Meanwhile, Meg remembered that she had bought Mike a birthday card, and went to get it while Steve told us that Meg had bought the card with a bit of a buzz on, and that she had thought it absolutely the most hilarious card in the world ever at the time, but in the harsh light of day it was, well...see for yourself:

"Ummm...thanks?"

Yeah.

By then it was 8:30pm and we had put in a solid workday of drinking, so the rest of the troopers made their way home, and Mike and I passed out on a beanbag in Steve's living room for a few hours before getting kicked out and going home, where we were duly shouted at by Paddington and Ellie, put on Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark, and passed out (again).
And thus did the surprise 30th birthday party come to pass.  I will never plan another one again!
The next day I staved off a hangover by pruning the rose bushes in the front yard.  I don't recommend it.

Happy dirty thirty Mike!