you know how when you a kid in school theres allways someone your friends with who moves away? And you trade numbers and say you'll keep in touch? mostly it never happens though right?
  I met Cameron Lord when I was 12 or 13, tough to say really it's been a while. I was deckhanding on a boat run by one of dad's friends, Tim or captain barnacle butt as he became known later due to a long slide down a crusty plank. I don't remember the name of the boat anymore, but our first mates name was Roscoe and the ships dog was Brita, a rotweiler bitch that used to belong to dad till her and mom stopped seeing eye to eye.
  We tied along side the Mary Jane 3 one day while waiting on our set. we were longlining dogfish for mickey dee, they call the fillet of fish Pacific rock salmon but i know for a fact that means dog shark. They were gillnetting real salmon, both boats double ended wooden japanese fish boats from the 50's.
  The skippers name was Chris Lord and he had a deckhand named Cameron Lord, about my age and we played fishboat games while the skippers and crew drank rum and pepsi. by fishboat games i mean poking the fish in the hold with sticks and throwing stuff overboard. At least until another boat pulled along side, one of chris's friends Ingvar had a child crew as well. As they came along side Cam and I made ourselves busy with the bow and stem lines. Ingvars crew sat huddled on the hold hatches with wide terrified eyes and basicly made themselves useless. a Brief attempt at conversation and we decided these were not the same as us and went back to having fun. Chris decided after a question to Tim that we were ok to play with his shotgun and as Ingvar was drinking beer we soon had bottles to blast and it was no loss when the 3rd boat had to go.
  When our set was ready to pull the decision to move was made as well and as both boats had the same hull speed we decided to tie together and travel as a catamaran. Cam and I spent a couple days working and playing between workings then went seperate ways.
  Summer over back to school. Grade 7, Mister Taylor's class first day and theres a new kid! He just moved here from england, actually the north west territorys most recently but the accent was thick british. Cam sat next to me and i looked at him and said " I know you. Your dad has a fishboat. Wanna come over after school? I have a bb gun!"
  And thats how it began. When i said about the same age, it turned out our birthdays were one apart. mine was june 1st and his the second of 1975. We explored the bush around our respective houses like explorers in the wilderness. Forts were built and cliffs scaled, we learned to shoot and build snares and trapped wild animals like his dog shep the dumbest sheperd with 6 toes ever. one birthday we watched Predator on Beta then camped in the backyard at his place. Shep became an invaluable member of the team that night and one summer we carved all our names in a tree at beddis beach. Years later Cameron told me he was working with his dad of beddis and got curious. Threw his mustang survival suit on and swam ashore to see if our names were still there. It must have been a good one for the tourists the man in the bright red mustang who jumped of the fishboat swam to shore climbed a tree ran back into the water laughing and swam away. Cam Joe and Shep still to this day halfway up a tree on Beddis beach, Saltspring Island B.C.
  He moved to crofton in grade 9 and we made the promise and then kept it. His mom and dad split up and she still lives there, Rita Lord who teaches at Bright Angel Elemtary in Duncan and who's number is still burned in my head. 746-6624 probably be there till the day i die!

 

sweet dreams

To make blue eyes twinkle like stars before bed.
Some words to linger in your head.
Good night precious, I love you.

a love story

A man and a woman fell in love once. Then they went seperate ways and had many adventures, but they always wondered what the others adventures had been like until one day they met by chance again. They talked about the past and what they had seen and done and discovered that they were falling in love again. Bye now they also knew that their adventures apart were similiar in style if not in detail and their curiousity grew. What if together their adventures could be more than either had seen alone? This time when they parted ways they tried much harder to keep track and hear who's adventures were doing what. The love that they felt was confusing from time to time and some of the adventures were more like trials, but they persevered through these trials and adventures and planned one day to adventure together knowing in the backs of their heads that some of these adventures may take the form of trials as well. This caused some worry and grief for them and there were many doubts. Was it really love? Was it just lust? Would these adventures prove hurtfull in the end? Could either be happy after without the other? This story of a man and woman in love with adventure entwined with each other is far from over and both are still grappling with their fears. Only time can finish writing this story and time alone will decide when the story is done.

Lets all pray for time and a story worth telling again and again.



peace

mill bay.
i rode here with morgan jean. it was a random find and that story is sure to follow in the bmx oddesy story. when i find the pics i'll post them here

concrete skate park feels like it was built by a tofino surfer, you'll love it. i loved the soft spine with the curve at the bottom of the park. carve from right and transfer to the left side...smooth and sexy coming back over it you can tail tap a block on the side.


mini bowl at the top of the park also sexy.i got to watch a small dog with a gold mylar balloon chase ethan around and around in it. for a small park its got a lot of heart

tessa

i met tessa one summer after a mad beach bender. My friend ray from dawson creek was in victoria visiting his family and we went to willows beach in oak bay with a tub of gin and several cases of beer...then i woke up at moms with my niece abbygail on my chest. "i love you uncle joe, and you were funnny last night"
 More family from up north? Why did no one tell me? Oh well i'll clean up and we should go for breakfast! Oh no! The pocket my paycheck was in, in cash now, is gone ripped clean off. Check the others, no and no. after paying bills and rent and getting supplies the last tally was around 700 bucks. I have to go for a ride...right now. I'll be back, and out the door i go. On my little bike bump of whom ive written before to willows beach. Between tide and tourism there is no hope but i'll be dammed if i don't try.
 As i pull into the parking lot at the west end and start heading east someone calls my name. Allmighty hangover and bad attitude combine, i flip a bird and wheel on do my frantic scour of the far end of the beach and then give up, the morning sun is scorching hot and i really just want to curl up and die but my curiousity gets the best and i ride over to the young lady and toddler who called my name. Great a single mom...I just got out of a relationship with one of them. She introduces herself as Tessa. The cutest little blond 2 year old ever is Olive, her little sister. She was with Simone last week...."you tattooed her neck?" Oh yah, i remember now! Her and some friends are going camping at sombrio beach up island, would i be interested in coming? Oh hell ya i would. No kid, Cute as hell, likes to camp...i'm in. Trade numbers and im off.
 Well that was interesting i tell the family back at moms. Out 700 bucks but i'm going camping? My bro laughs, bright side joe!
 Funny side note we go to elk lake with abby and Chris's wife Elaina takes a picture of the three of us in the water facing away from shore. Mom, Chris and me. with shaved heads the resemblance is uncanny its like three russian dolls that nest inside each other but not round at all. Small to large broad shoulders and slender waists with long limbs, i saw a picture of grampa doing a handstand on a dock in cowichan bay when he was an olympic gymnast and am proud of the genes when i see this picture.
 Tessa pics me up in a blue oldsmobile on the weekend and we head out of town, making small talk i learn we're meeting either at china beach or sombrio so we may have to do some hiking to figure it out. I packed as though i was going camping my way which is on foot and ready for the worst so i say i'm in. We stop at goldstream to shop for some food and grab ice cream cones. Later i'll find out she's lactose intolerent. we also burn a reefer. Later i find out she doesn't burn reefers either. On the way out of sooke we see an old guy hitchhiking with an hour to go at least we decide adventure it is and pick him up. turns out to be pretty creepy and she when we stop at china beach to see if her friends are there its not sad saying goodbye to him. we shoulder our packs and head down the hill. there is no trail but the going is easy. large coastal ferns and cedar ground. Some yelling down the beach and no cars up top convince us that we're at the wrong beach so we headd back up. I have long legs and a lot of bushtime under my belt so i set a good pace going up the steep ground and am continuously suprised when i stop and shes right there with me. by the top we are both drenched in sweat and she suprises me by pulling out a puffer and hitting it. asthma? ya. i could have slowed down? No i love it, she says!
 Old guy is gone and as we drive on she informs me she was kinda driving like a jerk to scare him but shes only had her licence for a week so she more scared herself. Ive gotta laugh at that cause island roads are tight twisty and scary and she really isnt doing that bad at all.
 We get to sombrio and she recognizes several sets of wheels, we're here for sure, lock up and head out its about a 20 minute hike she says. the trail is good and steep its not long before my stride lenghtens and im running down it. suprise again, short stuff she may be but boom im passed and we cover the ground at mach speed running up the sides of corners and hopping logs like gazelles, short gazelle for her but still...wow! i'm smitten.we reach the beach findher friends some recognize as fernwood locals. Halley a chubby blond has been flirting with me for weeks of and on. Simone i tattooed last week. JD a dready hippy kid some other randoms... i set up my tent and as night comes and the fire grows a good time is had by all. Halley has no tent and wants into mine at the end of the night and im just enough of an ass to go for it. Tessa was going to crash in my tent but..... well you know. doesn't sleeps in a tree instead because jd is dancing naked round the fire and being creepy. i find out later they went out for over a year and it isnt really all that cool but for now it is just what it is to me.
 Breakfast and an invite to a hike with jd and tessa to a stream down the beach. noone else is in so its just the three of us and it turns out jd is in poor condition its not so bad going but after skinnny dipping in the creek and hanging out in the sun he's very slow on the way back so me and tessa end up running again. chasing her down the trail is a lot like following a pixie dust trail but my stride advantage makes it doable. we're almost back to the beach when she stops. "want to see something cool?" "sure" of course i do and we follow a small stream up int the bushes it turns into a narrow canyon covered in moss and ferns taller and taller then opens up at the end exposing a magic waterfall and pool combination. i resist the overwhelming urge to kiss her and later she tells me i really shouldnt have. but thats much later and really the moment still stands with such clarity and beauty that it doesnt really matter.
 We ended up seeing each other for close to 2 years before parting ways but i still tell the story as the best 700 bucks i ever lost, and she blushes still when i do.
  Simone thought i was cute so tessa invited me, i slept with halley and ended up with tessa. we are all still good friends and i dont regret losing the money in the least.
 Dont worry simone i'm sure i have a good story for you too.
xoxo
joe

Mount Solitude

I climbed Mt. Solitude in the spring of 04, or maybe 05, I don't really remember the date exactly but it was definately spring and it was definately with jarrett. jarrett berg to be precise, my cousin and boss and climbing partner, who figures heavily in many stories.
We had been climbing rock for 4 summers and had recently started climbing ice in the winter. Recently being the winter before we went on one ice climb with another friend and this winter we bought our own gear and been climbing fairly seriously on ice. A couple low grade leads apeice and much top ropeing of steep water ice.
So as the snow melted in town and the days grew longer the urge to climb rock had been festering and it was no real suprise when he said "hey, you want to go climbing this weekend?"
of course i did. said so too figuring he ment hassler crag, our summer home at the time. "let's climb Mt. Solitude" he said. Caught me right of guard and i'm sure it showed. Last chance to get on some ice and a real summit was his reasoning, plus it would be in spring conditions the most dangerous season of them all. Which is a plus in Jarrett land something about danger really gets him going. when he leads a climb it's almost enough to make you sorry for the rock. it had no idea it could get beat up so bad. every hold makes a noise or at least looks like it should from slapping open hand pops to the creak of his chisel finger prying into a crack. fast and aggresive with lots of strenght and some natural ability and a sharp head. in short the perfect partner for a moderate summit in dangerous conditions possibly. I'm in!!
Saturday morning armed to the teeth we roll out of dawson creek about 6:00 of course we planned for 5 but things being what they are, he's a workaholic and always will be we worked late and 6 just felt better. pushing past chetwynd and further into the pine pass we killed the 2 hour drive with pot smoke and bench climbing, dreams are big and easy to climb. we felt the summit by noon and maybe a chance to fly back to hassler for some cragging in the afternoon might be possible. "it doesnt look that big" , and "hell ya, we're in good shape!" got tossed around lots, and we were hard work and hard play and young bodies had made us pretty hard as well.
Sunrise brought clear skies and the kind of light show that makes early people glad their early, and by the time we parked under the base at the super convieneint pullout by the east pine crossing at the base of the pass it was a perfect spring day.The snow line was at the first third of the mountain and we could see some ice toucing down on one side of a rock feature. A 100 m. piece of shoulder had been sheared to expose a folded pile of rock laundry We set out with full gear. rock racks ice tools screws ropes helmets kitchen sink stove and pot. As we do every time it seems. Years later we have learned to cut some extras out but still...".it keeps us strong" he'll grin and grunt, as he shoulders his pack.
chill but not cold we head into pine covered in frost and it isn't long before we run into hard fans of icey snow in the trees. avalanche debris the trees are scarfed up branches broke and big chunks of bark missing. Danger? ya, hell ya, we say. Scary... B line for the rock, up to and under it traversing climbers right for the ice drool on the side under a dripping 4 foot roof so low we end up crawling part of it. The ice ends up being to rotten to trust and the rocks around us are far to ice crusted to think of climbing so we carry on steeply right for the shoulder of the mountain our axes reaching and hooking trees prove super usefull and the snow is hard enough to climb on top of mostly. we make good time and rest at the shoulder once we are of the steep ground. easier going gets ofset by deeper snow and as it warms up the crust stops supporting us.
flounderfest!! arg! puffing and panting still steep why do we do this? All mountaineers are Masochists at heart and if they say otherwise they're liars i say. as the shoulder angle slacks though we start finding bare rock and it dosn't seem such cruel punishment for having a day off. our shells are of and we're sweating but it is a beautifful warm bright spring day after a long cold dark winter of sawmilling. we would be fools to complain
Still once we crest the ridge and clear treeline we waste no time dropping our packs and tools. grabbing sandwiches and our shells we stop long enough to burn one and wonder what the time is. the road at the base we parked on looks like black snake with the parking lot for a head and the tongue curling round the hill down the valley and the summit looks to be about a kilometer up the ridge. the suns not directly over head but it will be soon so we figure we were probably being a little optimistic with our noon summit. Oh well were going to get a real summit today after all the time pulling hard at the crag on steep rock this is an eye opening change.
we head out light and cheerfull the snow is supporting our weight again and the ground is not steep at all. rolling snow fields finally bring us to the north face droppoff over the road again, but something keeps us from venturing to close to the edge. A little ways further we get onto the rock rige line and can see the open air under a massive cornice. The snowpack we were skirting hung over severall hundred metre of open air and avalanche chute and could easily have ripped out.
hmmmmm....... snowballs? Rocks!! Bigger rocks!! ok thats all good fun but how do we drop a big chunk? We start chucking rocks at an ATV sized lump of snow hanging over the edge but the snow is so heavy and sticky even the biggest rocks we throw stick an inch in and stick as though glued.Trees!!! hahahaha we chop of a dead tree with an ice axe and pry the victim loose kicking and screaming. freefalling for several rope lenghts there is no sound when it hits it just busts into several pieces and then they dissapear as well seemes almost anticlimaxtic. Untill we notice it hasnt gone its just turned to liquid and its flowing amazingly fast. picking up speed and size too as it moves...the shadow of the mountain as huge but doesn't cover the whole runnout area of the chutes and it looks possible that the stream will reach the sun! we count and it takes 10 full seconds for the avy to reach the sun and it doesnt stop moving for another 5. Wow man that was cool!! big eyes all around we move on. For all his rough and tough and gung ho Jarrett turns into a total granola munching hippy as soon as you get him 10 feet of the road and this is one of those times. " Dood, this is so beautiful...i just want to weave a wicker basket..." ok not quite like that and i'm no better so i'm sure you get the picture. the rest of the hike to summit was one of those moments that feel timeless. we could have easily been wearing leather cork boots and carrying wood haft mountaineering axes with wool pants. i mentionbeing a little sad i forgot my camera and jarrett replys with a "This is our summit man, we'll carry this one in our heads forever"
and then "fuck anyone who isn't here" just to keep it in perspective.
burn one down at the summit take some mental pictures check the surroundings for feature to add to the mental bank and we tun back following our footsteps in the snow and dawdling with the pleasure of going down and barely burning calories...somewher along the way we ate and when we got of the ridge and back onto rolling slopes i had a small brainwave.
do up my shell, pull on my mittens balaclava on goggles on, axes in my hands im almost ready to go as jarrett finally notices. "whatcha doin jojo?" "Nothin" i say and cross my arms over my chest axes in hand. flop on my back parallel to the slope and begin to log roll down it for about 50 feet before i am going so fast i have to open up and stop! floppedy flop flop, "bwahahah,ahahahah... ohmygod, i think im gonna puke!" i can finally see again as he launches himself downslope to meet me. its just as cool looking as it felt!! Wheeeee!! laughing and squeeling like schoolgirls over and over we go down the mountain to meet our gearpile. frontflips are the next stunt and after a couple trys we can link them into continous frontflipping down the hill.....backflips end in disaster every time but it doesnt stop us from trying repeatedly. great big kids having great big fun!.
back at the gear tears still streaming from laughing so hard. We dread heading down into the deep snow postholing deep and steep and sure enough it sucks bad untill we're resting on our asses and jarrett lifts his feet out of their holes and butt schooches onto the unbroken crust. Wheeee!!! again? bum skiing is born! dig in the heels and wham buried up to the waist. ripping along losing altitude fast we both notice a lack of trees ahead at the same time shortly after discussing the possibilitys of sheer drops which are very very possible. stop fast and fescend slow is the decision and sure enough we come to the top of a good sized rock band which appears to run several hundred feet each way. floundering to the side seems rudiculous when we brought ropes and gear so we decide to toss a rope down and see if it reaches. it doesn't and all of a sudden our extra weight fetish comes in handy! one rope or two? What idf we need to make a 60 metre rappel? while you can rappel down a single stand of rope it's hard on the rope and makes it impossible to get your rope back. so rappelling is allways performed of ttwo strands either a single rope doubled up around a feature or through a ring or carabiner. or two ropes tied together. the rope is pulled from one side at the bottom to retrieve it enabling you to rig again and carry on or resume downclimbing. we brought two ropes and tied together they reach the slope below with another 15 metres to spare! rigged around a tree we dont even need to leave a piece of cord and disposable steel chain link.
we reach the bottom pull our rope down, remember which side has the knot!! important or your shit will jam up hard and be really ignorant to get back.
"SHit! damm!" and more that dont belong in print, jarrett dropped an ice axe somewhere, and its not here so it'll be somwhere on our bumski...."good excuse to get new axes..." he grins and shrugs and says hell replace the one he dropped an get a new set so there is more tools to go around. "maybe we'll do this again in the summer? But really its kinda like looking for an ice axe on the side of a mountain.."
by the time we reach the truck anythought s of cragging are long forgotten and the clock says close to 4:00 it'll be 4:20 well before chetwynd jarrett says with a twinkleand a grin as we toss our gear into a classic shit pile of backseat goodness. "that was good, we'll have to do more" we agree as we roll into the setting sun.

i was hitchhiking north this winter from victoria, stopped in hope after dark. hungry, decided on a chinese place by the bus station/ laundromat/dinner. it was decent, had a couple beers lots on my mind marlas leaving on the first of april two weeks away try and get this trip to ymir over fast and come back? see her again for maybe a day at most. or move east after kelowna then the koots, heading north from there through the park see friend in banff? always good for a party and lottsa inkwork.go home through edmonton, see dad. anyway you get the drift. high plains drifter at heart resigned to not seeing this beautiful creature for at least another year...again? or give one more run at romance and hope.well the cheque and a fortune cookie showed up as i finished my bottle of lucky. life is either an exciting adventure, or nothing. thought on that for a bit and used it for a bookmark in a mark jenkins book i really enjoyed. it made it home with me and every time i saw it it made me smile. really suits me how did they know?when i sent marla her package (a painting, some pictures of me in the mountains happy, a feather from the first grouse i got with my bow and a book on solo climbing adventures) that fortune was in the book and it makes me happy to know its on an exciting adventure.

crystal clarity
17 times is to many says tessa
his tongue is hanging out pink and purple don't know why he won't hold still
just want him to sleep shiny new snap-on crescent wrench to the back of the head
floor grappling down the hallway tried to hit him gently but harder and harder
now that its obvious that theres only one fix i cant even get the gun to work
shitty little brass zip gun can't tell shells from mechanism
three clicks later a boom way to loud for a 22. at that range the hole ragged and black two inches left of the top of his head
hot tears running down my cheeksmad at him for making me do this
i ask tessa why and how many times its been she says 17 without hesitating
17 times is to many times to have to kill your own brother can't answer why
back in the hall chris has made it to the bathroom and is trying to drag himself over the edge of the tub either to drown himself and finish the job or just wash the matted blood out of his hair which is unusually soft and bleached blond by the summer sun coming through the window
the bubbles turnin pink in the tub and i'm holding him waiting for him to die just don't want it to hurt anymore

may 10th/07/9:45 a.m.

i love these sounds
the clang of rock gear on my rack as i move
the intake of breath and the gasp of pleasure as i kiss your neck
the hiss of rubber on asphalt and the lap of waves on the hull
the sights that thrill me
snow capped peaks through the trees
sunrise and sunset
the smile on your face a gap in traffic
some smells that never fade
woodsmoke on my clothes
pine needles in my bedroll
the sweet sweat of love
coffee in the morning
the rough kiss of rock on my knuckes
the hot sting of palm sweat on grips
a lovers hair across my chest
and the burning legs after a long days travel
these are the sensations i love
and as i fall asleep your name in my mind brings all these back
and then the fear of the unknown
even that i love

GUN NUTS
Gonna get a pistol, put it right under my pillow
Cold hard steel, big lumpy black chunk
Right under my head, crawling into bed.
Sleeping like the dead.
Used to wake up screaming now I got gunmetal dreaming.
I’m gun nuts, I’ve got trigger finger ruts.
Counting bullets instead of sheep
Gun nuts
Six shooter gun nuts
C’mon gun nuts
Thumbing big red shells thru mossbergs floor
Chuck em in the air, lucky bottles and full paint cans
Point and aim, pull again
Pickup truck full of gun nuts, doing doughnuts down by the river
I’m gun nuts, bouncing over ruts
Counting bullets into heaps
Gun nuts
Shotgun nuts
C’mon gun nuts
Pistol whipping gun nuts
Big guns and small guns, long arms and hand guns, pocket pistols, boot guns, rifles, revolvers, shotguns
and hot guns. Machine guns, motherfucking uzis with foot long clips yeah.
Gun nuts
Yeah I’m gun nuts. Saving up my money for a colt .45
Long slide, double stack mag. Pachmyr grips with the combat sights.
Wanna shoot out the lights, I see your lips moving can’t hear a thing
Gun nuts
Rifle buts and cocaine thrills
Gun nuts for hunting accidents divorced gun nuts
.44 mag hot pistol in a paper bag
Gun nuts
Fuck yeah
Gun nutz

i got one. this is my buddy david turcotte with an ass corset. and this is the story of daves ass corset.it all began in dawson creek years ago. When i met dave he walked into my tattoo shop and kind of never left .ok he left within the hour. but anyways he asked all the usual questions. how much is a tattoo (100 bucks an hour) can i have one (yes) how big a tattoo can i get with 35 bucks ( a small one) can you teach me to tattoo (can you draw?) no (can you follow a line?) no (then no) wheres all the live music and can you find me some reefer? i said lookit kid im almost done for the day come with me. closed shop and took him to dionne and morgans where andy lived as well they were jamming and had reefer i left him there and he was still there after work the next day. I christened him punk rock dave and it stuck but i changed it to loud obnoxious dave next week and that only stuck with the people who knew him well. years and many tattoos later i was working in another shop in vic and the boss lady andrea was bored. she did a thing known as a play piercing usually on women on the backs and chests consistting of a series of surface piercings laced together to look like corset strings. often photographed and never pemanent we started talking about funny ones like say... doing one to a dudes ass and shooting it from so close it looked like boobs. you know just for our own perverse pleasure.. well of course the question came up , but who? and the light bulb !!dave!! he was at work as a ghoul. or telephone collections agent. i called him dave you need an ass corset whats an ass corset?8 piercings in each cheek laced up to look like a corset your right i do. when you off?5.ill be waiting. ok im there hung up and looked at the boss lady, who said just like that huh? we need a camera.i called tessa who had an old nikon and it was on. she brought red wine and dave showed up on his bike and we went to work. mostly when these things get done there is some drama ow and ahh and ohhh, etc. then wait a bit till the next piercing .but with dave it was one done. ok. do another. done ok go again. till it was done. he stopped once for a lollypop and glass of wine to get the blood sugars up again then laced and up front for photos i have all the pictures i'll dig them up and copy them to digi for you it was a super fun shoot and we totally forgot to get the money shot or close up butt here it is in a nutshell daves ass corset. hope this makes you smile i look forwards to seeing you tommorow.love joexoxoxo

the best light show i ever saw was one drunky night at powder king 2 years ago, dione and noel and morgs and i were hitching rides on the snow cat with alex and drinking in the chalet our last run we decided to hike the summit and some drunker old guy managed to convince us he was capable of doing the run with us that part sucked because he hiked slow and rode slow forcing someone to wait and baby sit the whole time. but me and dee dee managed to make summit first it was super clear billions of stars bright full moon and calm and about 15-20 below(thats why the babysitter for drunky) when we topped out the lights were doing a perfect vortex right over the mountain top with all the colours green mostly but red and blue and purple shimmers through it all as well. we sat on the lee side of the weather shack at the summit and rolled it up then laid out in the snow side by side and watched the show while we waited cuddled a bit laughed and had a great show when we dropped of the peak and down to the chair we got to ride alex's pristine grooming at warp speed all the way back down it was so well lit by the moon.when you get to see them for the first time id like it to be like that. not hammered or at p.k. neccesarily but magic like that the skys gift to me and you. i have some pics from that night you will laugh as i have a shitler mustache and funny girls fluffy hat and have been reping the powder king salute of white powder and drinking heavily for a while me and dijion had to tripod to make it up the summit powder fieldwe turned a hundred yard patch of fresh pow into scrambled eggs as well at one stop when noel was still with us. resting on the slope and burning one noel decided it would be funny to to try and tackle deedee but he telegraphed his intent and d turned it into a judo toss out into space on a 45 degree slope it doesnt ake much of a launch to send you a ways down slope and when grassy knoel had floundered back up we took turns tossing each other out into the powder field below. im sure hikers the next day got a laugh out of it because it was pretty obvious what happened.White powder... sure its in bad taste, in a couple ways even but you can yell it anywhere at that hill and get a reply. anywhere the restuarant even but pub rentals tickets guaranteed a white powder back. new years one year we were going hard and the waitress for our table threatened to cut us off if we didnt stop as there were a couple black guys at one table. we got up and sat at their table introduced ourselves and waited sure enough someone came in and yelled and we replied the guys we were sitting with laughed so hard next time it happened they stood and yelled black powder and that was their rep for the rest of the night next day we hooked up with themand showed them the good stuff out of bounds and in bounds. out atpk just means the ski patrol wont find you they wont pull passes or anything and the whole mountain is safe so it pays to ride with locals like us

some art

being mostly untrained i work in found media a lot. the canvasses are usually tent material and a lot of work is done in sharpy or paint pen also vinyl and the odd dummy for canvass.

i've spent a lot of my life in and around tattooing so there will be a section at some point on that along with some of the really good stories that have occured over the years....and maybe some of the bad ones too, what the heck !

lifes work

Life’s work
　
1 2 3 4, 5-666
7 8 9 10
Rounds in the clip
One more in the chamber
Fixed bayonets
Smoke the blade
Post and notch
Stock welded to my cheek
Breath frosted on the barrel
Sons and brothers
Hunter forced to fight
10 9, 8-7, 666
5 4321
Now the rifles empty
Hot with love and fear
Panic search thru fallen comrades arms
Precious alchemy of death and life
Still clutched in dead hands
Time to run with commanders at our backs
Bullets as deadly as the ones that advance
1-2-3, and a half…slow, patient breaths
Searching fingers, twisting lead
Bullet proof your body
With the dead
No home, or hope
Won’t pray for death
Except what creeps into my sights
I find my saviors, copper and lead
Wipe them clean, each another kill
6-5-43 2-one left in the door
Time stands still
Bolt action flying thru its motion
Spent brass hanging in the air
Smoke rising where frost once stood
No way to live, nowhere to run
More precious than gold I buy my life
With copper jacketed breath
Can’t believe what’s been done
No hope for life with death so near
Hunters, farmers of souls
Invade my land, stab you where you stand
Machine guns design, the front line
Tanks roll thru the rubble
1 2 halfway thru 3 4 a little more
5- 666 reticule crisp sees bloods pink mist
Beyond your siloutte so clear
Crack and buck, before you drop
I see deaths strike you’ll never hear
Finger takes up the creep
1234- 5 pounds till death you meet
666 hammer coming home
On primers dome
Sending vengeance down the bore
Rise thru the ranks
There are no thanks
Deaths the only thing for sure

adventure! it started with a game of good idea, not bad idea. morgan jean said he had a couple weeks of paid vacation time that needed to be used. i said little bike adventure and the idea was born. not all ideas ever make it past that stage but this one did. we kicked it around a bit over some beers and thought it was sound so the next step was to cleaer it wit my boss, which i did, much to mj's suprise! he cleared the time with his work and we began planning and packing....ok we left dramaticlly unprepared with just our bikes and sleeping bags and some clothes. his rabbit the commander bunnykins had no rabbit sitter so at the last moment we threw his food and him in the truck and left for ports unknown. the rest of the story will have to wait as it is a long one (2 weeks on the road with a rabbit and 2 little bikers) here are some of the pics that i took anyways

the story will follow when its time is right.

They say
they say.  I should
They say. We could
Be together and
They say
You’ll get her back
Some time
They say. A lot of things
But who,
Are they,
To say.

What the weathers gonna do today

Yes you can. No you can’t
Pass the salt. Or grab my ass
They are your friends, and  parents
They are your teachers, co-workers and cops
They are your boss
They know
They have all the answers
They care
They are right about us
They did it for our own good
They said I couldn’t
They said she shouldn’t
They said a lot of shit
I just want to be heard
Why would they do it that way
If they were so smart
They’d be right every time
Every line would rhyme
And every T would be crossed

They say
You might be a lover or a one night stand
They say
You’ll never know unless you take that stand
They should have
They could have
Done a lot of things
But
They ran right out of time
They suck
And blow
You know they told you so
You made them
You had them on the run
You are their friend
Your pizza delivery guy
They are your children

They are your mom

They were just here

They are everywhere

They are you and me.

　

　

I will never stop

　

I’m gonna get em

Gonna take my pen
And write all over em
Blank pages
Clean white sheets
Broad black strokes
Incising images
Right or wrong
Flip the page
I’m gonna get em
Gonna take my pencil
And draw all over them
Every last one is an enemy
Of my own mind
The sword is in my hand
As I write across the land
Spider webs in the corners
Aztec god come to pay my rent
Every line another thought
Out of mind and made to live

I’ve gotta get em

Exorcise the demons

I will never stop

squamish pics

a typical anchor constructed on bolted hangers sticky rice and sweet sausage. simu-rappeling with mike b. the walk off broadway ledge after the climb.second pitch of diedre with micheal boronowski
(hes the curly headed one)

belongs with mail for marla but im new here so i'll just post pics separate.

ODE TO BUMP
My little bike can kick your little bikes ass
Bump, Son of Bump
Bitey, Blue and
Hate, Hate, Hate
Little bikes come
And little bikes go
Morgan’s mom’s got a bump sticker
In her kitchen window
Dave’s bike is wearing your forks still
I’ve got scars up and down
My shins
To prove you were here
Little bikes come
And little bikes go
But we can
And do
remember

mail for marla, a climbing story

Day 1
Well this is it, on the road again. Back seat of a grey dog headed for the coast, Squamish to be precise.
Paint covered hands dyed brown from grout this morning. finally rolling, be in Vancouver before I get to change out of my work duds, oh well gonna sleep a good potion of the trip anyway. A couple luckys , a half bottle of over proof vodka and some reefer should make that easy. Not to mention the colt cigars I recently started smoking hit me like heroin.
It’s a climbing trip now folks. my pack in the belly of the dog loaded with rope and gear. My carry on with the creature comforts, a sketch pad, pens, and my new friend, this tiny acer computer full of climbing porn, bmx porn, snowmobile porn, music, ideas, and of course, porn porn . Pens and pencils finish the creative necessities. Not loaded heavy by any means should be easy to complete the mission.
Yes, the mission. bus to van and meet up with Mike B. carry on from there to Squamish with him in his set of wheels and climb our asses of for the weekend. Forecast for the weekend is hot hot hot so it’ll be a treat when the weather does turn cooler. Spring is the wet season but my years down south spotted a pattern. May 24 weekend seems to be smoking more often than not and I’m willing to gamble. If I can find partners once mikes gone my leaving will be determined by low funds or bad weather and by low funds I mean the last 50 is turn around. My ticket was 200 bucks so I’m definitely hitch hiking home.
Not that that bothers me I’ve been one end of B.C. to the other, every month of the year in ever kind of weather so many times I stopped counting years ago and cant remember the number I stopped at anyway. Looking forwards to it even, a chance to spend time alone then a chance to meet someone totally new. This mode of travel has been good to me mostly and even the tough breaks have had their part in making me who I am today..
There was a plan to meet several others in Squamish but so far mikes the only concrete contact. Fine by me. For a rookie mikes got a lot of heart, and he’s meticulous when it comes to safety. He’ll listen well and learn a lot with only two of us. The others, Cameron lord a long time friend since elementary school, has to work. Dave and Megan punk as fuck back in the day now saving for an Africa trip. Tessa one time love of my life tree planting and unable to reach. may still show, not holding breath..
Big sky full of puffy pillow clouds on the horizon too the west, tumbler ridge still buried under snow I’m sure. We had 5 inches in Dawson creek this week and tumbler is right on the edge of the Rockies a hundred kilometers West . Which means that my object of desire, first ascents at an unexplored crag know to us as the end of the road are still so far out of reach they may as well be in the himalayas Means there is no way we can get in to the beginning of that road even. Good time to go south and let the snow finish melting up here.
Chetwynd, rolling south still. Should be passing Hassler crag soon, snows all gone and I could be climbing here. But no the ice cream shop in chetwynd is up for sale and no longer open. As my cousin , boss and climbing partner Jarrett Berg says “we’ve climbed here lots , no fuckin ice cream I’m outa here” I agree and hope there’s a decent scoop of ice cream at the gas bar in tumbler ridge which is a fair bit smaller than chetwnd even.
Stopped and had “chicken “ on a stick and some potato wedges from the 7-Eleven worked today fairly steady till it was time to go to the bus so food is good, in the interest of health however (climbing trip remember) an apple and bottle of v-8 juice finish the meal. it’s a strong Caesar and I wish I had my kitchen with me some Tabasco etc would have been nice.
Managed to burn half a Doobie beside the bus. asked the driver if we had time to go smoke holding out my pack of colts, he said yes so as he did his inspection of the bus I blazed the doob from in the pack. The wind was blowing out into the parking lot and he said nothing as he came back round so I finished a couple more hauls and slipped the roach into my colt pack.
Hassler crag is clean and lovely looking as we roll by in the bright afternoon sun and I’m draw back to the early years. The struggling for moves that seem so natural now the wonder if I’d ever find the impossible moves difficult ever, still so much room for improvement but so much more relaxed with what I know now. Next stop is Mackenzie, sun will be low by then and I’ll use my stop to puff on a colt this time. Should be out like a light after that, sleep till prince George and hopefully again after the transfer there. By morning we’ll be in Hope and by then I’ll have a story for tomorrow, today’s is done I think except for the rest of living it of course.

Snow in the pine pass as I roll past Mt. Murry. Mike Boronowski's stag party comes to mind .3 ropes and a slew of fools on them. Me, Jarret and Dion leading.separate teams Each team simu-climbing side by side on the halfway slab. A 100 metre feature of 50 degree rock that breaks the gully up to alpine ground. Jarrett out left on thin to no protection. Blank dirty face moves. Me in the middle on a thin but visible continuous crack, and Dion in the relative safety of the right hand shelf system laybacking and plugging big gear into the wealth of cracks on its face next to him. Its all easy climbing but the fear is real especially in Jarretts team.
Jarrett trying to step out onto the snow pack in the avalanche chute further up only to slide on hands and feet digging like a cat on a tin roof, snow spraying desperately from all four corners. Stopping and waiting patiently for Dion to come rescue him…how? "I don’t know how just throw me a rock, anything just do it now please!" Smashing footholds in and moving back to safe safe rock and dirty trail. Mid July hot as hell still several feet of hard snow in the chute. Later full of bravery fueled by good rock exposed climbing and the ridiculous amounts of booze hauled up by the non climbers we invent rock bogganing down it, like bum skiing but on a rock! Jarrett leads the rockbogganing he doesnt drink He gets belligerent he says so he just doesn’t. I’ll vouch he does, but its always in good humor and I take pleasure in bringing lucky lagers (our grandpas beer of choice) which I know he will drink at camp after climbing. Two of those and hes a real rowdy, hooting and hollering all smiles and red in the face.
As my boss in the shipyard once referring to our whole crew on nights after one of the boys got busted with a beer in hand after shift. "I don’t know if they were drunk. Those boys are seasoned." Seasoned I am so I drink moderately enjoying the day and the rock and the sun and wind and weed that Jarrett is continuously rolling up.
Dions a rookie and he knows it so he has a summit beer and waits to hit the sauce hard until the halfway slab on descent , by the time we are back at the truck he nearly has to be carried. Success! we have climbed our mountain and except for Woodstolk and Jarrett all team members have achieved their secondary goal of complete insobriety.
 Mt. Solitude and Powder King, a handful of short ice climbs. All roll past my window as the sun sets. Prince George and a transfer of buses. Sleep after that, better roll it up for the stopover wasted time is frowned upon.
Day 3
Well nothing to do now but tell the tale. Back in Burnaby at Mikes,sore as hell all over. The shower was a welcome cleansing and a painful reminder. Good and sore all over. By three o’clock today we were at the lake south of the Big Chief. Murrin park, watching some locals boulder and trying feebly to pull on the odd hold. Mike sat and drank beer willing to admit he was done. Epic day all told, we checked the guide book and ten stars we climbed. Enough to collect 10 stars out of the book where 3 stars is as stellar a route as you could ever ask for we climbed 2 three stars and a handful of others with and without stars in the last 3 days.
Day 2
After Prince George I made a friend on the bus and went for breakfast and a bee her.2 hours to kill till Mike gets off at 1:00.
Went shopping. New pocket knife, same old Opinel. Price went up to 17 dollars for the #7. Shiny new 3 inch Metolius power cam. Means nothing to a non gear head. And a pair of pants. New, kind of stretchy, kind of waterproof kind of techy. Not my concrete, drywall, and glue crusted carharts for climbing and camping any way
Connections with Mike go flawlessly, we roll into Sqwamton bout 5 o’clock, make it as far as Murrin park. Park here I tell mike, he pulls up to up from the bog. 1 star 25 meters 5.8 and I proceed to get the shit scared out of me for Mike an Aussie and his Newfie girlfriends amusement. Climb over. Me and Mike simu-rappel off for the first time this weekend. It’s a scary tecnique that saves time by sending a person down either side of a doubled up rope, meaning we both have to weight the system at the same time or one will fall. Forearms red and tingly, hearts pounding scared and apprehensive. That was a lot harder than I’d hoped, maybe downgrade my grand plans of big multi pitch climbs a little?
We check into camp and meet our neighbors a long hair and a shorthair eating of the barbeque on their tail gate. Washington plates. Grabbing our packs, the cooler, my cowboy hat, the apples, vodka and smokes etc. the long hair calls us gear heads and laughs. We laugh back, wait’ll he see’s the fruits of our labors
Dinner is sticky rice and sweet pork sausages with a chunk of fresh salmon poached with lemon butter garlic and onions under a pile of fresh Kale from Mikes balcony garden, a little bit of chives and a cold beer….too perfect. Till desert that is, I tell Mike about a vision I had in Prince George on the way down and he’s in.
I roll a blunt, cigar tobacco and weed. Then I poke a hole thru the core of a granny smith apple, a smaller hole at an angle intersecting and the blunt fits nicely Light it up, draws and smokes tastes of apple. Cool dense smoke. A shot of the over proof vodka and a bite of apple….bong hoot, swallow, exhale, try it again in a different order. Eventually we decide hoot shot bite hoot is best but is close next to hoot bite shot hoot. We Decide before bed Deidre is the one, 8 pitches of moderate climbing, 3 stars. Early start, beat the crowds, etc.
Well 8 isn’t exactly early but it does get us there with only 2 parties before us. Our neighbors Garry (long hair) and Mike, short hair. (which causes no end of confusion during the day). And someone else ahead of them.
Looking at team one pad easily up the unprotected and easy first pitch (5.6) makes my palms sweat I see a ramp left to the station that looks super easy and go for it instead. Garry ends up rescuing his mike off that pitch when he tries to solo it and gets sketched out so I am glad I played safe. Time for shenanigans later. Finally Gary and Mike are at the 3rd belay station leaving the second pitch open for me and Mike B. I get all the leads as I have all the experience.Ten feet in im wondering if this is really smart. I'm now halfway to my first chance to protect and slab scares the hell out of me….then I’m there placing protective gear and rigging my anchor. Secure on belay finally, some air under me and the wind softly caressing. Garrys still at the stance ahead of us but its got a nice ledge and I decide to go for it. Yell for permission, he says hell ya come aboard. Easy climbing feeling better and better. I get there and toss my rope behind a boulder for protection, if I fall it my rope will catch behind the rock and lead all the force back to Mike who is still ready to catch me. Hell ya mountain time. Next two pitches are sweet looking long steep laybacking moves. This technique involves pulling sideways to the rock while pushing out with the feet and looks scary as hell. Good deep crack to place gear into for protection. As I wait I look down and see an older man, long white and red hair, skinny mountain arms with tattoos on the forearms charging up the rock, dancing and grinning. Hes got a piece in about every 20 meters. I feel self conscious for sketching on 5.6 d placing every 10 feet while his line looks to be 5.10 at least, to climb at that grade takes strenght and ability that doesn’t come naturally. But it is what it is right? He comes right up to my stance says hi .I say you’re an asshole and grin. He looks back, smiling and says “outshtanding” he says “two pieces “ with a question mark. I say "ground falls both of them." When a climber places a piece and climbs above it the fall length doubles every foot above that piece. 5 feet over and your looking at a 10 foot fall a piece at 30 feet up wont save you if your 60 feet in He grins and we both know theres no way he’d have fallen, every thing is outshtanding with a Sean Connery accent. When he tells his partner to shling a tree I have to get him to say it again. Shling? "Yes, shling the tree!" His name is axel and I immediately call him rose like the guns and roses singer.
I head into the steep dihedral with a little apprehension but the moves are so good its replaced with exhilaration immediately. Reach my stance, bring Mike up, swap gear back. Routine.
The next pitch seems to go on forever, I realize im drastically short of gear as I finally spot the next belay station 30 feet above me.Looks like easier climbing but the exposure gets to me. I second guess my skills and decide to build a gear station instead of running it out to the bolts that can be clipped to make a bombproof anchor . I bring Mike up so I can have my rack back instead of spread out below me in the crack. As Mike is coming up he stalls at a small cam I remember slotting a little too deep in a panic moment thinking that’s gonna be a bugger to get back, it is and twenty minutes later I tell him to give it up. It’s a spare anyway, now ive only got one. As I built my station I also managed to fumble my belay device sending it missile like down the face. Jeezus what next I think. Halfway up the climb I use a munter knot on my big locking carabiner to belay This is a friction knot that is notorious for twisting the rope making rope management super obnoxious.…drop any more gear and I’ll be hip belaying him, rope round the waist using my body for friction . I shudder at the thought and remember stories from old mountain hard men “ I caught a 100 foot whipper on a hip before. lost a lotta skin but I caught him” Jezzus I can see Axel now, hes telling me about boot belays and off his ice tool belays. Flexible. The mountains teach us to be flexible. For the briefest second I contemplate backing of but then it passes. ‘Made it this far eh, outstanding” Axels voice will be with me for months, maybe years now I realize. “Ballsh to the wall eh Mikey, make love to the rock, come on Joe shling the tree” I head out from my gear station with a full rack and realize it was all good, better safe though I think.
Next pitch easy peasy little sting at the top when I realize the last 50 feet of easy climbing has also been blank as hell no gear the wall steepens up ahead and I can see cracks I could place in but first I've got to get there over a wet steep bulge, chalky handprints to the left lead me and its easier than it looks. The crack systems reached and as I look for my placement I see a lost arrow buried in the wall. A steel pin shaped as it sounds with a ring of one end to clip to, god bless piton craft and the climber who left it for me. I clip it and move up to a big system, plug in the brand new three inch Metolius I bought yesterday Last piece, over the top! Lying in the bush gasping Axel sticks his head over a ledge above and yells at Mike “thatsh the way Mikey , balsh to the wall!" Mikes home, I’m home! Roll it up crack a cool crisp lucky lager start packing our gear other climbers reaching Broadway ledge look at us a little funny but wer’e all adults here. axel laughs and cheers’ us from high above as we start down Broadway ledge padding steeply towards home.
Beans with the leftover sausage and onions and garlic sautéed for dinner another apple bong blunt the last of the vodka go hang with Gary and mike for a little. They are impressed by our dealing up high “munter?” it’s a friction knot I explain and they smile knowing a little more now.
Sleep like the dead, wake up.Instant coffee, instant goatmeal Garry comes by and we put on more water for coffee. I roll it up, grinning like school kids we discuss our plans for the day then head out
Shannon falls! Spectacular back drop for Klahanie crack, 3 stars 5.7 grade,35 meters tall. After running out of gear yesterday I vow never again.If I need to place a lot I’ll rap back down and retrieve some but instead I place the same two cams, leapfroggy place and pull the lower one. Repeat this way. I end up with about 8 pieces in the climb well spaced and solid at the end mike is impressed as am I. I bring him up rather than getting lowered off. We rig to simurap one man down either side of the doubled up rope. Halfway down I show him how to throw a loop around his leg and step on the tail. Boom hand free brake take a picture. So he does we airballa high five big flailing miss its our gig this weekend total goombah style.
The suns not even on the wall yet and we’re down of another 2 stars worth of climbing, smoke bluffs next so much to see and do we decide to look for laughing crack 3 stars 5.7 hand and finger crack.
Some backtracking and we find it no one on it as we’re gearing up a couple show up all smiles. They can wait, no one seems in a rush here. I start up and she asks “ Are you doing the second pitch? I don’t think you can walk of this one” I guess we’re doing the second pitch I say. Dam got to do the homework better. At the top I look at the second half, or third more like it. An easy ramp to overhanging mossy doom crack oh my god oh well both at the same time. I shamelessly aid it. Place a piece and use it for a hold instead of the impossibly thin cracks using as many pieces in ten feet as I did on the whole 100 feet of the last climb. Sweating and shaking I make the top, run around a live tree and start hauling rope till I've got Mike on belay, hes scared and I have to explain to him not to pull the gear till hes past it, use it for your holds. Top out into big moss covered rolling slabs and take our shoes off, roll it up and relax. Adventuresome flavor has been tossed around a lot this weekend.
Bare foot we traipse around the smoke bluff trails till I spot our next crime, “Pixie corner. 5.8, 2 stars”
Proceed to kill it! The aussie and his girlfriend show up and express an interest, we’re almost done and say so. I find myself eyeballing the line next to it, 5.10b, short with good gear, start talking myself into it then out again when the aussie pipes up "Do it mate, its got good gear."
Tie your shoes up this time. I say and then do. Ive gone up everything so far wearing slippers pretty much. Fear sweats very real now. 5 minutes later I am above my last possible piece, way off line stemming desperately for a hold way to dirty to be mine. The aussie can tell I'm fading and shouts Go for it, throw your leg up! Better to to die trying mate!"  Hes right and I do. I commit and almost have the mantle over when my hand blows and I go for a full blown whipper, 6 feet over my piece, 12 feet till I'm caught. Then 5-6 more feet of rope stretch, by the time I stop moving Im sitting on the block at the bottom of the climb. A little kiss of rock on my forehead and ankle, worst hurt is my left teste. It caught under my leg loop as I went. Hoots and hollers, climbers around the corner come to see.
A couple minutes and a Dobie later, looking at the line the aussie says he’d like to try . I say the gears good be my guest. And pull my rope. Hes a way better climber and doesn’t go nearly so haywire when he falls but he does fall 3 times before he pulls the top move, gracious he sets up a top anchor and offers a run at it on top rope. It's like being on a pulley system, you can't fall more than a couple feet ever. I jump on and proceed to kill it after seeing him go through the moves. Mike next, he doesn’t have the strength but with some tension and a lot of talk he also pulls it.
We wander aimlessly for a bit as if looking for more to climb but then we realize we’re done. Back to the car,, out to the lake, sit and soak our feet. Drink the last couple beers and leave done and done.
On the bus now headed for Hope, sore and stiff and cant quit grinning. Raspberry on my forehead, gonna be a long haul home I’m hitching outa Hope but well worth the effort. Mike will never forget this shit and neither will I.
Home finally slept in a hayfiel bout 20 km. from home. Woke to rain and and a half full lucky I didn’t finish before bed. The first ride I get says "Hey arent you joe quin?"  And then takes me straight home, Hes a roomate of a heavily tattooed young fellow I've adventured with before..small world eh?