There are pub crawls, and then there are pub crawls. On July 20, 2010, we decided to take things to a whole new level with what we proudly dubbed the Redneck Pub Crawl in Pacific Beach. It wasn’t just about drinking—it was about embracing the ridiculous, leaning into the theme, and making sure everyone in PB knew the Boilers had arrived in style.
Dressing the Part
The first rule of the Redneck Pub Crawl was simple: commit to the look. Cut‑off jean shorts, trucker hats, flannel shirts with the sleeves ripped off, and boots that had no business being worn on the beach. Some of us went all‑in with mullet wigs, others carried props like fishing poles or inflatable farm animals. By the time we gathered at the starting point, we looked like a traveling circus straight out of a county fair.
Locals walking by gave us double‑takes, some laughed, and a few even asked to join. That’s when we knew we were onto something special.
Stop One: Making an Entrance
We kicked things off at a dive bar on Garnet Avenue. The bartender nearly dropped his glass when twenty “rednecks” stormed in chanting “USA! USA!” and ordering pitchers of cheap beer. We played country songs on the jukebox, danced like nobody was watching, and made sure to leave our mark before moving on.
Shenanigans Multiply
By the second stop, the crawl had taken on a life of its own. Someone started a contest to see who could shotgun a beer the fastest. Another group staged a mock tractor race down the sidewalk, complete with imaginary steering wheels and exaggerated engine noises.
Ashley showed up with a fake tattoo sleeve, Saydie carried a cooler like it was her purse, and I was rocking a sleeveless shirt that said “Git ’Er Done.” Subtlety was not part of the plan.
The Reactions
Pacific Beach is no stranger to wild nights, but even by PB standards, we stood out. Some people cheered us on, others shook their heads, and one guy asked if we were filming a reality show. We weren’t—but we probably should have been.
At one bar, a group of surfers joined in, borrowing hats and pretending to be part of the crawl. By the end of the night, our group had doubled in size, proving that redneck energy is contagious.
The Finale
We wrapped things up at a beachside bar, where the crawl turned into a full‑blown dance party. Boots on the sand, hats in the air, and country music blasting—it was the perfect ending to a day of pure chaos.
As the night wound down, we stumbled out onto the boardwalk, laughing at the absurdity of it all. The Redneck Pub Crawl wasn’t just about drinking—it was about letting loose, embracing the ridiculous, and creating memories that still make us laugh years later.
Looking Back
July 20, 2010, will forever be remembered as the day Pacific Beach met its match. We came dressed as rednecks, we crawled from bar to bar, and we left behind a trail of laughter, confusion, and unforgettable shenanigans.
Sometimes the best nights aren’t the ones you plan perfectly—they’re the ones where you throw on a mullet wig, grab a beer, and see where the crawl takes you.
