Friday, May 27, 2005 -- 5:26 PM

The hell of it was that there really was a bear warning. We all saw the signs and commented on them when we drove in through the dark, and in the morning we saw the trap near the park entrance on the walk to the showers, so they were serious. It was something neither of us took seriously until we were in the back country. It was funny, walking through the forest, how everything was changed. Really, the campsite was still civilization for us, nothing like this back country. We climbed steadily towards the mountain with the yellow sign ready in our minds and we stopped more than once when we heard something moving in the brush. The higher we got the worse for our nerves, as we didn't figure the elk that were rampant in these parts would climb this high. It was something that was joked at though, until we'd been walking for an hour and we heard the roar. Not an elk, we were so sure of that, and we were both scared. The only thing was to keep walking and our pace quickened. Of course it wouldn't be a grizzly, only a black bear who would be more scared of us, but it was different out there. Bear is really bear, not a curiosity.

If it wasn't for that roar we'd probably never had made it to the trail up Whistler's, it was the roar and the frenchman that did it. We found the trail and couldn't believe we'd made it that far, and Keith was sure he heard a car door slam, so we walked down to the parking lot. Civilization again, just like that, and the bear was a bad dream. There was a tourist sign at the parking lot that said it was a 5 1/2 hour hike to the top, and you could take the tram down again for ten dollars. We were pretty knackered though, and our water was quite low, but Keith was energetic. He was sure it couldn't be 5 1/2 hours, that's bullshit. That's senior citizen and japanese tourist time. Look, we'll ask this guy.
"No problem, only an hour to the top," Said Frenchie. "An hour and a half tops. I have done it before, don't even worry about."
"Fuck sakes, that's nothing. We've been walking from the campground. The only thing is, our water is low."
"There is water at the top also. We can give you juice at the top."
"What about the view? Is it worth it?"
"Fucking right."
We were already decided and starting up. Only an hour's hike when we've come two hours this far and a spectacular view from the top and plenty of water. We could take the tram down even. We've just come too damn far to turn around.

This hurts my brain to type. Maybe I'll finish it later. I'm Ron Burgundy?

Thursday, May 26, 2005 -- 6:15 PM

Hello, Museum

Coldly inviting, chrome finish mirrors
the marble floors and pillars a maze
leading to the next amazing cage
housing time past dusted spotless
and echoes everywhere,
mostly echoes, actually.
Tally them up and weigh them
you'll see-- the temporal is common,
the eternal is, where?

Tuesday, May 24, 2005 -- 5:05 PM

Hard as Fuck!

That's what I am. This Victoria Day long weekend me and a friend and his friend went out to Whistler's, near Jasper and camped it old school. Not really in a "fashion weapons out of our environment and hunt in the wild for meat and after, dance around The Fire, smearing raw flesh on our glistening bronze bodies under the stars and trees." It was more of a, "Oh, I forgot the Coleman stove," kind of roughing it, but also a "we might have to pick up some more beer," kind.

Friday was Day One of this epic miniseries. We left at roughly six o'clock with a car packed with various camping tools such as a boom box and beer. It's nearly a five hour trip from the city to Jasper, and we pulled into Whistler's campground rounding eleven. We had only just time to set up the tent and make a fire and a toast to the weekend before it got really dark and we couldn't see where I left my beer I thought I just put down over there, oh, wait, is that it? no, oh shit, I think I just spilled it. That became a gradually increasing problem over the course of the night, but we were all tired from work and the trip and we hit the sack relatively early.

We woke up bright-eyed and nearly bushy-tailed for Part Deux, Saturday. I brought along some delicious bacon that started off our day in a grande way, fried over an open fire in a skillet, and also hot dogs. We decided that if we were actually going to eat the canned foods we brought, we'd need a can opener, so we headed into Jasper for a little exploring. My one friend plays guitar and he found a bar that had an open jam session that afternoon at a pub. It was mostly locals there and they played a lot of older stuff, Dylan style, while me and the other camper friend started into the beer and ended with drambuie. We were getting peckish by five, and we decided to find a local eatery. Find one we did, and then back to camp. We played poker for awhile and I broke out the whiskey for that, but I lost and my punishment was about five shots of tequila, all at once. The rest of the night is somewhat of a blur, but some elk walked through the campsite and that was kind of cool.

Sunday morning we woke up, rather late, to rain. We cooked up the rest of that bacon, and borrowed a can opener from some neighboring campers with more of an intellectual prowess for forsight. We used it on a couple of cans of stag chili, with which you can't go wrong. Keith and I got the hiker's itch once our bellies were full, but jere felt like he needed some "alone time" so we went exploring. Unfortunately the only information we could find was that all of the trails within reasonable walking distance were equestrian only, and also there was a bear warning for the area. Oh well, we thought, lets just head towards the mountain, it being our only landmark.

And so we set out on a marvellous journey of laughter, alchohol, Frenchmen, and also a sort of blizzard, all of which I will tell you some other time. Peace out.

Monday, May 16, 2005 -- 9:16 PM

The words were gone, dammit. They used to grow out of his soul like grass and bleed him red, but now he's dry as hell. Where did they go? Fairweather friends, some-time revolutionaries. Nothing stays the same, that's what the words always told him in the dark and it was fine then, but gone the dark and now gone the words. The words had left him before, but before they left behind a burning as a token of their return. Now they've gone and left a laughing echo, moving from shadow to shadow in his bright world without words, without a need for words, and without rain kisses on his face and the sweet solstice of sorrow.

Sunday, May 08, 2005 -- 8:41 AM

If you haven't ever heard of Jack Johnson, congrats, you have now. The next step is to find some of his music and listen to it. He's mellow, relaxed, sultry, and just all around chillin'. His latest song is called "Sitting, Waiting, Wishing" and I'll post some of the lyrics for your viewing pleasure.

Well, if I was in your position
I'd put down all my ammunition
I'd wonder why'd it take me so long

But the Lord knows that I'm not you
And if I was, I wouldn't be so cruel
Cause waitin' on love ain't so easy to do

Must I always be waiting, waiting on you
Must I always be playing, playing your fool

Wednesday, May 04, 2005 -- 8:54 PM

So, if You've Been Following the News,

The Liberals are a bunch of thieving liars. That is to say, now it's more obvious that they are, they actually have been for quite some time. The topic at work now switched from "Is circumcision really practical?" to "Do you vote for the Conservative Alliance Party, or split the vote by choosing the Christian Heritage Party?" It really is a tough call, but I think that just because the Jews did it, it doesn't mean it's necessarily more clean. Also, I'd vote for the Christian Heritage party, because, in accordance with my views on God's soveriegnty etc., I don't believe that it is man that is in control of government, no matter how democratic the system is. Since the Christian Heritage party is in agreement with my concience on most social issues, I'll support them.

On a slightly different note, I recently watched 12 Monkeys, starring Bruce Willis and Brad Pitt. If you ever get the chance to see this movie, snatch it. Brad Pitt plays an especially colourful and somewhat freaky caracter as an insane patient at a mental institution. Granted, the plot is a little overreaching, but for an older movie it's still quite impressive. I guess what I'm really trying to say is that it's no Fight Club, so stop asking.

Monday, May 02, 2005 -- 9:11 PM

It's a Nice Place to Live, but I Wouldn't Want to Visit Here

So what was with that last post? I'm sure many of you have gathered your own conclusions: he was tired, drunk, hallucinating, comatose. Actually I was only tired and only a little drunk. I'll leave it up there though, as a testament to really silly blogging.

Here's something not so silly, though. There's a new radio station in towne, 102.9 Sonic, playing modern rock. I've been so impressed and excited with it that I've nearly dampened my pants and squealed like a schoolgirl several times while driving when such songs as Buddy Holly (by weezer) and a wide variety of Smashing Pumpkins comes on. Finally we don't have to be tonally molested with the classic rock. We have choice!

Speaking of choice, I got The Best of Will Farrell SNL Vol. 2, and that is definitely choice. More cow bell!