motion in poetry
guts in a knot
at the top of of the arc
the feeling isn't fear
wieghtless and free
it tells you to act
when it feels right
your path is not chosen
but placed where the wheels roll
tension and traction
slow calm balance
steadily upward
towards the skys near shore
to slip and fly and be caught
gravitys lessons taught
with stone
and rope
and something like fear
feet searching
body twisting
arms in the air
dancing and thrashing
underbrush pulls and mud slopes push
the pack on your back
means home will be
where feet stop walking
and there will be
no fear there
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Saturday, April 24, 2010
dogs.
i know ive mentioned dogs before, and how im dog people, grew up with them lots of them. they are for the most part better people than most people and i know i miss the ones who are gone just as much as the people who are gone certainly cried over as many dead dogs as people
when we were just puppies my brother and i would curl up with a rotwieler bitch named brita and scratch her behind the ear so she would scratch our backs. her and a lab sheperd mutt named snert and a pitbull named piglet were our pack then on johnstreet where dad tattooed and mom sold pot and people wore sandals and played frisbee.
piglet ended up bitting me when i was 6 and getting shot in the bathroom after being beaten half to death and chased home by dad. half naked. i was lucky and unhurt.
brita gave birth to a litter of mutts through another dog incident with a neighbors sheperd that bit dad and died for it. of the litter only 2 survived past 2 months the others were sickly and one by one left us.katie was sold to a close friend of te family who i would eventually end up welding for when i first left college.
we kept gaffer and grew through our teens with him. his mom and my mom didnt like each other though. brita bit mom one day in the garden and mom bit her back/ she never bit anyone ever again. brita stole strawberries just before they were ripe
we sold her and got a little pitbull named daisy who was a sweetheart and had her bred with a papered male and of the first litter kept the two largest males bowser and bethoven.
this was a funny time as we had moved to saltspring by now and had several other animals 2 or 3 goats a cat a couple snakes sometimes the morning walk to the bus stop was a lot like a petting zoo with even the peacocks following.
bowser and bethoven where brothers like oil and water bowser was black and smart and bethoven was blond and dumb. baby liked to scrap dogs and was not really good at it. bowser didnt but was. bowser was a people reader and every person he didnt like turned out to be not likable...mostly dads idiot friends too which was funny. all three liked beer bowser would nip an unopened can and lick till it stopped foaming then nip it again, beathoven would bit the can then shake and bite till it quite moving and gaffer would knock over open cans sneaky like while he was sober then openly when hed had a few as well as get growly and stumbly.
when he was a puppie he ate a gram of hash and slept for three days and would eat roaches steadily. he got really drunk on whisky at a party when he was getting older and quit drinking for many years but still ate pot bowser died on a hot summer day while we were at the lake he choked on a rock he had been chewing on which was strange because he was usually the smart one he was my dog and the first one i really really missed.
i saw him bite a beer bottle once carefully and put 2 perfect holes in the sideof it. his brother became our best friend along with gaffer who had been with us since we where small
of course he was getting old looked like he may die soon but mom switched his diet to oatmeal and eggs and veggies and weed and he was walking and better within 6 months and ended up living many years more he died while i was away at school and his sister katie also died that year when i left and went to work for her people in sidney i think they were around 15 years old then.
tears where shed by many people friends and family who had grown up with him cameron gave mom a beautiful black and white photo he took once on a visit blown up and framed and it still hangs in her cabin. daisy was gone and beeathoven had sired pups who we kept two of. oggie my doggy and moe, moewas brindle and og was blonde and big like his dad and just like his dad grew the first couple weeks in my shirt front pocket till he didnt fit anymore he lived in vic with me and michelle and then was sold by dad when i moved to dawson creek after we split up
i think hes still alive in cobble hill somewhere and if i see him i know he'll know me still.
moe was moms dog and she ended up getting a celtic knot of dogs round her wrist one brindle and one blonde. we also had a staffordshire terrier like margo named spot that we got right after bowser left. spot had been abused and was very headshy but also very loving and attention seeking it made him barky if he was on his line and knew there was someone home hes the one that i shot up on the hill over the pond and cried for years sfter over.
when i came up here i went with chris and elaina to pick up snoop doggy dog a mastiff that elaina still has hes old and tired now and cant play as hard as abby but he still knows who he grew up with and i guess thats where im going with this story they are all people we have know and loved we teach them and they teach us. if/when we should get a dog id like to cast my vote for a terrier like margo and spot they are a smart tough energetic breed. and super good people to be around. like people when they are gone its important to remember the times they made you smile and the things they taught you that way they can live forever.
this was really really hard to write and i cried a couple times like right now especially but i wanted you to know youve got dog people who know whats up and feel the same way.
smooshie sends his love
i know ive mentioned dogs before, and how im dog people, grew up with them lots of them. they are for the most part better people than most people and i know i miss the ones who are gone just as much as the people who are gone certainly cried over as many dead dogs as people
when we were just puppies my brother and i would curl up with a rotwieler bitch named brita and scratch her behind the ear so she would scratch our backs. her and a lab sheperd mutt named snert and a pitbull named piglet were our pack then on johnstreet where dad tattooed and mom sold pot and people wore sandals and played frisbee.
piglet ended up bitting me when i was 6 and getting shot in the bathroom after being beaten half to death and chased home by dad. half naked. i was lucky and unhurt.
brita gave birth to a litter of mutts through another dog incident with a neighbors sheperd that bit dad and died for it. of the litter only 2 survived past 2 months the others were sickly and one by one left us.katie was sold to a close friend of te family who i would eventually end up welding for when i first left college.
we kept gaffer and grew through our teens with him. his mom and my mom didnt like each other though. brita bit mom one day in the garden and mom bit her back/ she never bit anyone ever again. brita stole strawberries just before they were ripe
we sold her and got a little pitbull named daisy who was a sweetheart and had her bred with a papered male and of the first litter kept the two largest males bowser and bethoven.
this was a funny time as we had moved to saltspring by now and had several other animals 2 or 3 goats a cat a couple snakes sometimes the morning walk to the bus stop was a lot like a petting zoo with even the peacocks following.
bowser and bethoven where brothers like oil and water bowser was black and smart and bethoven was blond and dumb. baby liked to scrap dogs and was not really good at it. bowser didnt but was. bowser was a people reader and every person he didnt like turned out to be not likable...mostly dads idiot friends too which was funny. all three liked beer bowser would nip an unopened can and lick till it stopped foaming then nip it again, beathoven would bit the can then shake and bite till it quite moving and gaffer would knock over open cans sneaky like while he was sober then openly when hed had a few as well as get growly and stumbly.
when he was a puppie he ate a gram of hash and slept for three days and would eat roaches steadily. he got really drunk on whisky at a party when he was getting older and quit drinking for many years but still ate pot bowser died on a hot summer day while we were at the lake he choked on a rock he had been chewing on which was strange because he was usually the smart one he was my dog and the first one i really really missed.
i saw him bite a beer bottle once carefully and put 2 perfect holes in the sideof it. his brother became our best friend along with gaffer who had been with us since we where small
of course he was getting old looked like he may die soon but mom switched his diet to oatmeal and eggs and veggies and weed and he was walking and better within 6 months and ended up living many years more he died while i was away at school and his sister katie also died that year when i left and went to work for her people in sidney i think they were around 15 years old then.
tears where shed by many people friends and family who had grown up with him cameron gave mom a beautiful black and white photo he took once on a visit blown up and framed and it still hangs in her cabin. daisy was gone and beeathoven had sired pups who we kept two of. oggie my doggy and moe, moewas brindle and og was blonde and big like his dad and just like his dad grew the first couple weeks in my shirt front pocket till he didnt fit anymore he lived in vic with me and michelle and then was sold by dad when i moved to dawson creek after we split up
i think hes still alive in cobble hill somewhere and if i see him i know he'll know me still.
moe was moms dog and she ended up getting a celtic knot of dogs round her wrist one brindle and one blonde. we also had a staffordshire terrier like margo named spot that we got right after bowser left. spot had been abused and was very headshy but also very loving and attention seeking it made him barky if he was on his line and knew there was someone home hes the one that i shot up on the hill over the pond and cried for years sfter over.
when i came up here i went with chris and elaina to pick up snoop doggy dog a mastiff that elaina still has hes old and tired now and cant play as hard as abby but he still knows who he grew up with and i guess thats where im going with this story they are all people we have know and loved we teach them and they teach us. if/when we should get a dog id like to cast my vote for a terrier like margo and spot they are a smart tough energetic breed. and super good people to be around. like people when they are gone its important to remember the times they made you smile and the things they taught you that way they can live forever.
this was really really hard to write and i cried a couple times like right now especially but i wanted you to know youve got dog people who know whats up and feel the same way.
smooshie sends his love
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
It all started in the mountains.
Me and Jarret both love being off the beaten path. Summer 08 he says to me "Hey, you want to go climb bulley?"
I guess its a mountain right away but have to ask for details. Turns out its the highest peak in our local maintain ranges and not that far away.
Sitting at 8800 feet and about a 100 km. south of Tumbler ridge on the also south and east of Monkman park, a provincial park that was the site of my first good adventure with jarrett sometime round 1996. An area I can relate to for sure.
"Of course!" is the only smart answer so i say just that. And the planning begins, we research routes, find a book on the local mountaineering by a local, and start making gear lists.
We cut a bunch of pitons out of one of our old sawblades from jarretts sawmill, started looking at the available mountaineering hammers and decided to buy roofing hatchets instead. then carve them down to the right profile.
All the stuff that needs doing and then some without actually even knowing what form our adventure will take
Finally in the fall our plans are finalized the truck is packed and we both cut our hair and headed out. his mohawk suits him but the twin hawk i cut just feels ridiculous on me, to distract i tie a canadian flag cape on and start rolling.
Our approach takes us to tumbler an hour away to the west. about 100 kms. the next 70 to the south on bulley creek forest service road takes 2 full hours and carries us steadily uphill. By the time we reach the end of the road, or at least where the logging road was deactivated we are within 40km. of the great divide, or high point where the watersheds change dirrection. our side flows north and east to hudsons bay and the north atlantic while the other flows west to the pacific.
A boulder marks the end of the road and on the other side a creek with no bridge any more, thats what deactivated means i guess. Every culvert and bridge pulled and erosion bars dug into steep hillsides, Bulley peak rising in front of us to the south, and cloads gathering. we shoulder our packs, grin, burn one. and head out.
The first 10 kms. are on this dead logging road weaving thru replanted leases carving up the sides of the valley, we pass piles of waste wood with trees in them 60 feet long looking for all the world like jumbled piles of straws.
Enough wood to keep or mill cutting for weeks.
The gathering cloads bring some rain and we can hear lightning booming down the valley behind us. with bulley looming over head and a stream crossing the road at a high point on the valley side we decide to set up camp and call it an early night.
camp consists of a tarp and our bag setups so it takes no time and once we have fire and food in us the storm hits in earnest. Darkness falls early and we retire to our sacks under our tarp inbetween 2 logs pulling ourselves p topside to watch the lightning and burn one we hoot and holler into the storm till one bolt hits close enough to blind and deafen us. humility and the safety of our tarp call us to bed.
the next day we push to the end of the logging site round the southeast side of the mountain then we turn west and follow the creek up the valley behind the mountain. eventually after much heanous bushwacking we reach the head of the valley.
Glacial moraine and thin stunted trees, a massive headwall cut with an equally masive waterfall up the middle and a thin trickle just left of it has us talking about future ice climbs out here while the lack of fuel forces us to follow the stream back down the valley till we can gather enough wood to cook with.
Round a corner into a sheltered mini valley that looks suprisingly homey for the middle of nowhere, A massive grizzly doing his thing on the other side of the creek! We thought of this of course but the whistles we bought just seem to get him curious. "Jarret find the dam bear banger man." hes fumbling and saying how hes trying dammit.
"Fooosh. BANG!" and griz is tails and gone. That was suuper scary and the signs all point to this being his home not ours. rocks over turned claw marks way up in trees. Poop all over. Eek! we had been roaring and joking about being bears mainly because of the local radio station that claims to be a bear but now.... not so funny. ROOOOAR! im not a bear at all.
So thats where we set up! made a big fire and shot of a couple more bangers then started looking at the walls. We came to climb and right now it seems safer up there. tommorow we go up there! excited much and kinda nervous we make camp again and begin seriously looking for our line. a walk up to the falls after a dinner of spaghetti with jarrets homemade sauce that he dehydrated for the trip and we begin to form a plan.
We intend to climb between the glacier and the mountain peak through the saddle and from there decide which summit to go for or if neither we can beeline up the valley on the other side of bulley.
Dawn in the mountains is capable of the most amazing light show and we roll out just in time for a doozy. breakfast of goatmeal and instant coffee. we decide to pack up and pull out completly. we plan to climb up to the right of the glacier on a steep crackline that cuts the headwall. it looks from the bottom to be about a 100 metres of climbing maybe 3 or 4 pitches. then traverse further right and come up from there round the side of the glacier.
The aproach is steep as hell, 65 maybe 70 degrees of heavily vegged talus and takes over an hour by the time we get under our line we are beginning to doubt our sanity. i win the rock paper scissor off and take first lead. Pack off harness and rack on away i go. as soon as i step around the corner into the cleft i remember that adventure can have a dirty side. mossy and dirty. my new hammer comes in handy right away as i use it to scrape away the moss and dig out the crack enough to find that its way to thin to put a clean piece in.
bing bing BINGBING, PING ping ping higher and higher pitched the ring of cold steel into the rock as i pound my first piton with my first hammer in real fear. "dude, your only 20 feet in?" jarret is around a corner from me and seriously questioning my sanity. "you'll see" i mutter "clipping. and climbing." not so bad now that ive got a piece pounded that i could drop a truck on under me and the crack opens up enough to get fingers and clean protection into.
Even though jarrettt is only 10 feet away beside me round the corner its a long way down under me allready and a fall that far two days walk from the truck....2 days for healthy not crippled people...Its a serious game we play but as i climb it seems to get easier. cleaner for sure, i finally hear the half rope call and build my anchor. silence for the next half hour at least after except for the wind and occasional hawks wierd whistling scream. when he finally makes it to me i see he has his pack on and is sweating and shaky. now i have to go back for my pack. so he gets to relax and belay me for a bit.
Jarrett lowers me to my pack and tie it onto the rope instead of me, i have to help it around the corner but after that its a straight haul up the face, steep as hell! i can tell jarrett is impressed with my lead by the lack of talk. serious times indeed.
his lead next and it looks like itèll be to the top thankfully, we rerack and take a minute to asess our surroundings. we can see across to the glacier and falls under it and the little lake just above where we spent the night in mr. bears house is as bright as the blue of the sky from the glacial mineral water. amazing, and surreal. however times a wasting and we want of the wall and onto higher ground.
i get lots of time to sightsee as jarrett climbs and finaly after an eterity of paying rope out then nothing for even longer i hear him call secure. but then another call? lower me off is the call, and i dont understand. he comes down and explains how bad a position we have put ourselves in. after a hundred feet of rock the top is a 45 degree scree slope. unprotectable and hard to walk on with 60 lb. packs. Skunked.... still somewhat of a victory we have onsighted a semi serious short climb requiring some serious mountain skills.
back to bear camp. food and sleep and a new plan. we will retreat down the valley to under the lowest part of the saddle. there is big timber reaching all the way to the saddle their and we can climb it for sure. from there we will decide whether to keep going up or traverse round the mountain back to the trail out.
with 3 days food eaten out of our packs and some practice moving through the bush we know to avoid low ground and dense willow and make decent time then as we start into the steep ground we discover that blueberries on steep grow at face height. this slows us a little, ok a lot. grazing and moving we remember that bears are pretty smart and finally feel comfortable with our roaar we're a bear joke again. the saddle is reached and the alpine meadows prove much easier going than down in the valley. soon we are high enough to see both sides and the terrain grows more and more barren. as we start to descend the north end of the saddle has snow pack in it still and we feel like explorers again. its july and we are walking on snow!
then we come to the end! the valley ahead ends at the truck at least 15 k away but still! exciting, then we see rising above the spot where the truck must be! a pancake of flat grey rock sticking of the mountainside. not visible from the parking spot or anywhere down in the valley but plain as day from up here. solid climable rock! no scree slope under it to indicate rotten and plainly not vertical but just as plainly steep enough to bother looking into!
on the side of the saddle to our west between us and the glacier is a black rotten miserable looking serrated knife edge ridge. to the east, the flank of bulley itself, steep scree and scary with our heavy packs. also no water up there. home it is, or the truck at least then maybe go looking for this new crag!
we slog out to the road just before dark and startle an elk at the creek crossing. the full moon is rising so we decide to keep moving as the road is so much easier going than the bush and manage to make the truck just after midnight. a frantic munchy session and of to bed on the back deck of the death star.
day 5 and we have food for 3 more yet so we feast that morning and then set out without packs for the new crag. Across a logging cut block we see it rising as soon as the first hill is topped. it looks to be a kilometer long and very nearly half that tall.
3 hours later we are at the base of a slab of rotten sun baked mud looking slab. its the right color but theres something not jiving. we decide to keep climbing and at the top of this shit wall as we dub it is a drop into a little valley. across that our slab rises before us and our perseverance is rewarded. not shit! yay!
kicking ourselves for not bringing gear we decide to explore a bit then try and find a quicker way back to the truck. all the way climbers left we reach the end and easy climbing through big blocks the higher we get the better the view of bulley and soon the glacier rising behind that. trly spectacular! this is worth the blisters is the decision, a trail in will be built and we will climb here! somewhere around here is where the story gets good. on the way out jarrett has an idea. more a brainfart really.
"you know what would be cool?" he asks. "A cabin out here, its so far out it wouldnt get found and we like the area. there are a lot of cool things to see and do and climb, and we would use it in the winter for a snowmobile destination too!" Wow jarrett, thats a pretty cool plan! We toss ideas around all the way back to the truck and in the morning we set out again with our racks and ropes and flagging tape determined to reduce our approach time and touch stone with our dirty, tired, calloused hands.
I honestly dont remember much from that day its all become a blur now i do know i took pictures of his shiny new ropes and slashed my ankle good on a stick. he fell of a log in the worst way possible. feet both ways!
we climbed 4 pitches made the top of the crag and ate there. saw the glacier and mountain under a perfect sky as well as both valleys we had travelled. our plans were growing at every belay and rest and it all looked and sounded doable.
I guess its a mountain right away but have to ask for details. Turns out its the highest peak in our local maintain ranges and not that far away.
Sitting at 8800 feet and about a 100 km. south of Tumbler ridge on the also south and east of Monkman park, a provincial park that was the site of my first good adventure with jarrett sometime round 1996. An area I can relate to for sure.
"Of course!" is the only smart answer so i say just that. And the planning begins, we research routes, find a book on the local mountaineering by a local, and start making gear lists.
We cut a bunch of pitons out of one of our old sawblades from jarretts sawmill, started looking at the available mountaineering hammers and decided to buy roofing hatchets instead. then carve them down to the right profile.
All the stuff that needs doing and then some without actually even knowing what form our adventure will take
Finally in the fall our plans are finalized the truck is packed and we both cut our hair and headed out. his mohawk suits him but the twin hawk i cut just feels ridiculous on me, to distract i tie a canadian flag cape on and start rolling.
Our approach takes us to tumbler an hour away to the west. about 100 kms. the next 70 to the south on bulley creek forest service road takes 2 full hours and carries us steadily uphill. By the time we reach the end of the road, or at least where the logging road was deactivated we are within 40km. of the great divide, or high point where the watersheds change dirrection. our side flows north and east to hudsons bay and the north atlantic while the other flows west to the pacific.
A boulder marks the end of the road and on the other side a creek with no bridge any more, thats what deactivated means i guess. Every culvert and bridge pulled and erosion bars dug into steep hillsides, Bulley peak rising in front of us to the south, and cloads gathering. we shoulder our packs, grin, burn one. and head out.
The first 10 kms. are on this dead logging road weaving thru replanted leases carving up the sides of the valley, we pass piles of waste wood with trees in them 60 feet long looking for all the world like jumbled piles of straws.
Enough wood to keep or mill cutting for weeks.
The gathering cloads bring some rain and we can hear lightning booming down the valley behind us. with bulley looming over head and a stream crossing the road at a high point on the valley side we decide to set up camp and call it an early night.
camp consists of a tarp and our bag setups so it takes no time and once we have fire and food in us the storm hits in earnest. Darkness falls early and we retire to our sacks under our tarp inbetween 2 logs pulling ourselves p topside to watch the lightning and burn one we hoot and holler into the storm till one bolt hits close enough to blind and deafen us. humility and the safety of our tarp call us to bed.
the next day we push to the end of the logging site round the southeast side of the mountain then we turn west and follow the creek up the valley behind the mountain. eventually after much heanous bushwacking we reach the head of the valley.
Glacial moraine and thin stunted trees, a massive headwall cut with an equally masive waterfall up the middle and a thin trickle just left of it has us talking about future ice climbs out here while the lack of fuel forces us to follow the stream back down the valley till we can gather enough wood to cook with.
Round a corner into a sheltered mini valley that looks suprisingly homey for the middle of nowhere, A massive grizzly doing his thing on the other side of the creek! We thought of this of course but the whistles we bought just seem to get him curious. "Jarret find the dam bear banger man." hes fumbling and saying how hes trying dammit.
"Fooosh. BANG!" and griz is tails and gone. That was suuper scary and the signs all point to this being his home not ours. rocks over turned claw marks way up in trees. Poop all over. Eek! we had been roaring and joking about being bears mainly because of the local radio station that claims to be a bear but now.... not so funny. ROOOOAR! im not a bear at all.
So thats where we set up! made a big fire and shot of a couple more bangers then started looking at the walls. We came to climb and right now it seems safer up there. tommorow we go up there! excited much and kinda nervous we make camp again and begin seriously looking for our line. a walk up to the falls after a dinner of spaghetti with jarrets homemade sauce that he dehydrated for the trip and we begin to form a plan.
We intend to climb between the glacier and the mountain peak through the saddle and from there decide which summit to go for or if neither we can beeline up the valley on the other side of bulley.
The aproach is steep as hell, 65 maybe 70 degrees of heavily vegged talus and takes over an hour by the time we get under our line we are beginning to doubt our sanity. i win the rock paper scissor off and take first lead. Pack off harness and rack on away i go. as soon as i step around the corner into the cleft i remember that adventure can have a dirty side. mossy and dirty. my new hammer comes in handy right away as i use it to scrape away the moss and dig out the crack enough to find that its way to thin to put a clean piece in.
bing bing BINGBING, PING ping ping higher and higher pitched the ring of cold steel into the rock as i pound my first piton with my first hammer in real fear. "dude, your only 20 feet in?" jarret is around a corner from me and seriously questioning my sanity. "you'll see" i mutter "clipping. and climbing." not so bad now that ive got a piece pounded that i could drop a truck on under me and the crack opens up enough to get fingers and clean protection into.
Even though jarrettt is only 10 feet away beside me round the corner its a long way down under me allready and a fall that far two days walk from the truck....2 days for healthy not crippled people...Its a serious game we play but as i climb it seems to get easier. cleaner for sure, i finally hear the half rope call and build my anchor. silence for the next half hour at least after except for the wind and occasional hawks wierd whistling scream. when he finally makes it to me i see he has his pack on and is sweating and shaky. now i have to go back for my pack. so he gets to relax and belay me for a bit.
Jarrett lowers me to my pack and tie it onto the rope instead of me, i have to help it around the corner but after that its a straight haul up the face, steep as hell! i can tell jarrett is impressed with my lead by the lack of talk. serious times indeed.
his lead next and it looks like itèll be to the top thankfully, we rerack and take a minute to asess our surroundings. we can see across to the glacier and falls under it and the little lake just above where we spent the night in mr. bears house is as bright as the blue of the sky from the glacial mineral water. amazing, and surreal. however times a wasting and we want of the wall and onto higher ground.
i get lots of time to sightsee as jarrett climbs and finaly after an eterity of paying rope out then nothing for even longer i hear him call secure. but then another call? lower me off is the call, and i dont understand. he comes down and explains how bad a position we have put ourselves in. after a hundred feet of rock the top is a 45 degree scree slope. unprotectable and hard to walk on with 60 lb. packs. Skunked.... still somewhat of a victory we have onsighted a semi serious short climb requiring some serious mountain skills.
back to bear camp. food and sleep and a new plan. we will retreat down the valley to under the lowest part of the saddle. there is big timber reaching all the way to the saddle their and we can climb it for sure. from there we will decide whether to keep going up or traverse round the mountain back to the trail out.
with 3 days food eaten out of our packs and some practice moving through the bush we know to avoid low ground and dense willow and make decent time then as we start into the steep ground we discover that blueberries on steep grow at face height. this slows us a little, ok a lot. grazing and moving we remember that bears are pretty smart and finally feel comfortable with our roaar we're a bear joke again. the saddle is reached and the alpine meadows prove much easier going than down in the valley. soon we are high enough to see both sides and the terrain grows more and more barren. as we start to descend the north end of the saddle has snow pack in it still and we feel like explorers again. its july and we are walking on snow!
then we come to the end! the valley ahead ends at the truck at least 15 k away but still! exciting, then we see rising above the spot where the truck must be! a pancake of flat grey rock sticking of the mountainside. not visible from the parking spot or anywhere down in the valley but plain as day from up here. solid climable rock! no scree slope under it to indicate rotten and plainly not vertical but just as plainly steep enough to bother looking into!
on the side of the saddle to our west between us and the glacier is a black rotten miserable looking serrated knife edge ridge. to the east, the flank of bulley itself, steep scree and scary with our heavy packs. also no water up there. home it is, or the truck at least then maybe go looking for this new crag!
we slog out to the road just before dark and startle an elk at the creek crossing. the full moon is rising so we decide to keep moving as the road is so much easier going than the bush and manage to make the truck just after midnight. a frantic munchy session and of to bed on the back deck of the death star.
day 5 and we have food for 3 more yet so we feast that morning and then set out without packs for the new crag. Across a logging cut block we see it rising as soon as the first hill is topped. it looks to be a kilometer long and very nearly half that tall.
3 hours later we are at the base of a slab of rotten sun baked mud looking slab. its the right color but theres something not jiving. we decide to keep climbing and at the top of this shit wall as we dub it is a drop into a little valley. across that our slab rises before us and our perseverance is rewarded. not shit! yay!
"you know what would be cool?" he asks. "A cabin out here, its so far out it wouldnt get found and we like the area. there are a lot of cool things to see and do and climb, and we would use it in the winter for a snowmobile destination too!" Wow jarrett, thats a pretty cool plan! We toss ideas around all the way back to the truck and in the morning we set out again with our racks and ropes and flagging tape determined to reduce our approach time and touch stone with our dirty, tired, calloused hands.
I honestly dont remember much from that day its all become a blur now i do know i took pictures of his shiny new ropes and slashed my ankle good on a stick. he fell of a log in the worst way possible. feet both ways!
we climbed 4 pitches made the top of the crag and ate there. saw the glacier and mountain under a perfect sky as well as both valleys we had travelled. our plans were growing at every belay and rest and it all looked and sounded doable.
jarrett had been hoarding building materials from jobs and by the time we were in the truck rolling home a dream had been dreamt out loud by both of us. The Cabin At The End Of The Road was born that day.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Pheonix
My cousin just got back from Costa Rica and loved it. Loved it so much that he wants to buy a lot there and build a house. Seeing as we are in the house building business it just makes sense, his kids loved it, his wife loved it, and it wouldnt take us any time. So it's in the works we are going for it but my brother needs a passport, in fact his wife and her 4 year old daughter need passports too. I just got mine and it is a kind of daunting process so i went and picked up their applications the other day and brought them home and gave them to chris.
Chris has been telling pheonix about this plan and she was allready super excited so when the three envelopes showed up on the table she was a little interested. He explained that uncle joe had picked them up so they could get started on the paperwork that would let them... Us all leave the country to build houses and play in the tropics!
And then the questions began. Answering any question a 4 year old has will result in 3 more questions before the first answer has a chance to settle in. "Joe got us these?""
"Yes" from chris.
"So we can go to the place with the beaches?" He has been showing her internet pics of beaches and jungle and adventure.
"look, you should ask joe about it he knows way more than i do"Chris is as patient as always.
So i get the hot seat, and have to explain that i didnt buy themi just picked them up. They have to go in the mail still. They need to be filled out. the two green ones are for adults and the pink one is for children. yes the pink one is for you, no i didnt have to buy them i just picked them up. yes you can go anywhere in the world with one. Then one i didnt see coming. "Did you forget one? Theres only three. Wheres yours joe?"
" I allready have mine sweety, and you need someone with one to vouch. So i can do that for all three of you." I say to her. Up till now its been serious questioning Pheonix, answer me Pheonix with her razor sharp powers of observation. The smile of a lifetime hits her face she puts the envelopes down and rushes my leg grabbing and hugging as tight as a 40 lb. child can. " I LOVE YOU JOE" all in capitals and as true a statement as anyone could ever hope to hear.
Chris smiled and shook his head, as did i. "I love you to Pheonix" It was the only possible reply and life carried on. Dinner. Bed. Wake. Work.
Then next morning we are plotting for the future, in Costa rica andi have to tell Jarrett about last night with pheonix. Its just as good telling it as living it and i can tell by his eyes and mouth that he can see the whole moment clear as fresh waterfall ice. "Thats a good one man." he says " Thats the kind of moment you remember forever"
He's right and i'm pretty sure we will.
Chris has been telling pheonix about this plan and she was allready super excited so when the three envelopes showed up on the table she was a little interested. He explained that uncle joe had picked them up so they could get started on the paperwork that would let them... Us all leave the country to build houses and play in the tropics!
And then the questions began. Answering any question a 4 year old has will result in 3 more questions before the first answer has a chance to settle in. "Joe got us these?""
"Yes" from chris.
"So we can go to the place with the beaches?" He has been showing her internet pics of beaches and jungle and adventure.
"look, you should ask joe about it he knows way more than i do"Chris is as patient as always.
So i get the hot seat, and have to explain that i didnt buy themi just picked them up. They have to go in the mail still. They need to be filled out. the two green ones are for adults and the pink one is for children. yes the pink one is for you, no i didnt have to buy them i just picked them up. yes you can go anywhere in the world with one. Then one i didnt see coming. "Did you forget one? Theres only three. Wheres yours joe?"
" I allready have mine sweety, and you need someone with one to vouch. So i can do that for all three of you." I say to her. Up till now its been serious questioning Pheonix, answer me Pheonix with her razor sharp powers of observation. The smile of a lifetime hits her face she puts the envelopes down and rushes my leg grabbing and hugging as tight as a 40 lb. child can. " I LOVE YOU JOE" all in capitals and as true a statement as anyone could ever hope to hear.
Chris smiled and shook his head, as did i. "I love you to Pheonix" It was the only possible reply and life carried on. Dinner. Bed. Wake. Work.
He's right and i'm pretty sure we will.
Monday, April 5, 2010
jennifer
pebbles on the window... i had forgotten
it started with a kiss
stolen on your porch just under that window
climbing that porch
so many nights to steal more
it started with a kiss
stolen on your porch just under that window
climbing that porch
so many nights to steal more
Friday, March 26, 2010
this is an old story, a lot has changed. I've traveled, i lost Marla forever to another man after an epic squamish adventure together, I've been sober, I've been drunk.
I still fight with the old demons, sometimes i win sometimes i lose.
to stop would be wrong, and if nothing else i want to do the right thing.
for better or for worse here i am.
First.
Marla
I met marla on my birthday, i think maybe my 30th birthday even. I like to go riding on my birthday, alone or with people it doesn't matter. hopefully allways will, this one i was with people not just people but great people. jai Balaam and Dave Turcotte to be precise we started early and covered a lot of ground before hitting the oak bay liqour store for cold beers at cheep prices (it's a secret, don't tell) our route took us past my lesbo tattoo freak friend brandi's place and she was on the porch drinking beer with some people so we stopped. Her girlfriend Jennie, Miranda, and Marla. stopped for a beer at rest instead of in the saddle...all great people in the sun on a porch. Happy birthday to me! Marla's laugh still sticks out in my mind. Loud and unafraid a lot like my niece abbygails. a wonderfull thing for sure, we laughed and had a great time and when Marla was up one time gone to the fridge for beer Brandi took me aside to whisper "i think she likes you" wink and grin. "I think i like her" i had to mock whisper back.
We didn't ride any more that day drank with brandi and company instead then got invited to a party elsewhere in fernwood drug them all with and me and Marla ended up dancing the night away at a party where no one else was dancing.
we hung out for the next couple weeks but i learned that she was leaving soon on an adventure. her and her friend chelsea wanted to ride thier mountain bikes to argentina and they planned on being gone several months. There was no sense in taking this seriously it was just a fling...but what a fling it was, every time i turned around something else. we went swimming at the sooke potholes and the jeep she picked me up in had ditch kisses up one side. i asked and she said it fell over out tree plantng but luckily there where enough peple to put it back up. i got in and noticed no carpet and the floor bungs popped out. Yes its been in some water she said. Eventually it ended and when she left south i left north moved to dawson creek again to go climbing and riding and house building.. we kept in touch for a little but then forgot. i visited the coast several times and often wondered but Brandi said "marlas with someone and happy i dont think you should try and talk to her."It hurt but it was true so i didn't
Then in the winter of 0 i was on an adventure of sorts that put me in victoria again. Walking down a street with my head in the clouds i heard "Joe? is that you?" turned and there she was...again. later she said she saw me and wasn't going to stop but then did, curiousity overcoming caution. do you want to get together and catch up? of course! maybe a ride to the beach and talk? hell yes! we set a date and went for a lovely ride to the beach and caught up on the last couple years and then said our goodbyes. after exchanging numbers.
The very next day i got a phone call. "that was lovely but im a little dissapointed i didn't get a hug from you"
i was trying to be a gentleman i said. would you like to get together again? "yes, i could show you pictures of my trip to mexico" they had run out of money and had to get jobs to pay for their tickets home. Also awsome! Sooo... we ended up spending mor time together...And again...."look this can't get serious i'm leaving for korea on a year long teaching trip." I really need a passport so i can go do cool shit like that i said. well get one and maybe we can do it together? was the reply. so obvious.
One year.
This story begins almost 1 year ago exactly. Its Friday, March 26 2010. Sometime around this time last year I was sitting in a restaraunt in Hope B.C. thinking about life. Now im sitting in my brothers living room still thinking about life. A lot has stayed the same, life is still here. I still love mountains and bikes and food and all the other things I loved before. A lot has changed, I have a licence and a jeep, and a passport and money in the bank for the future. All things i hadnt thought of having for a long time. 9 years with no licence. A lot longer with no bank account. This is the story of this year, starting then and ending now. Or as ended as a story based on a life can end assuming that life goes on. Its been an amazing year and i hope this tale does it justice.
Saturday, November 21, 2009 thats when i wrote this story about that day in march. I wrote it on a little computer that i had with me on that trip, bought it just before an atttempted mugging by some local youths that left me and my brother pretty badly beat up. I got a broken hand out of the deal that was no good for carpentering with so i went travelling to kill the time while i healed. actually thats how i ended up in victoria and meeting Marla....again.
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
So i carried on to Ymir B.C. by way of Kelowna Tattooing the whole way and hitchhiking. Then returned to the coast to meet with this girl Marla. We met in van one day at the korean consulate where she had to finalize some paperwork had lunch and hung out then tried to get together another time but got our timing messed up and blew it. The last time i saw here was the day before she left. i bussed out to tswassen and wandered all over the place and had just about given up when i reached her at her parents. We met and hung out and had a good visit despite my being half in a bottle of fireball that id bought for the bus ride. When i got on the bus back into vancouver i was sauced and emotional, 12 hours later i was at rock bottom, camping under an overpass high as fuck on freebase cocaine. Spent every cent in my pockets and had no luck selling my computer for more so i decided to spend my last minutes in that day writing. The truth and nothing but same as what i still write today. i wrote Marla a letter to tell her what she was dealing with and what i was thinking. i couldnèt find the letter i sent her but it boils down to an admission of guilt. I was guilty of being a cocaine adict from the time i was eighteen on. Of being incapable of telling the truth about that and therefore so many other things in my life. Of the hurt that so many other girls who had gotten close to me had suffered.
I wrote it and in the morning i hitchhiked home. it took 2 days and i was penniless and hungry by the time i got home. But i got home to work and a home and life went on. I wrestled with that letter in my computer for the whole trip home and when i got there i sent it. I went to work and checked my mail and within the week i got a reply. The gist of it was that she knew allready but to hear it like that hurt. A lot. That she wasnt going to talk to me until she could read that letter without crying. Other things as well lost now in cyberlimbo.
Still she wrote me though. And I wrote back, we talked of me getting my passport and coming to visit her in korea. She sent my letter to a friend who warned her as well of the dangers of falling for an addict, but she told me all of it and sent the letter from her friend to me. She was my friend and cared. A lot.
Marla told me about a program called skype, free videocalls world wide. We talked, face to face, about all sorts of things and we stopped thinking as friends, or just friends anyways. We had been lovers before and the attraction was undeniable.
I began saving money and spending on things i had long neglected that i would need to get a passport. B.C.I.D. My birth certificate. Also things i personally wanted and needed, my licence back first. We fell in love. Again
chapter 2.
During this time i also had many fine adventures. The year before my cousin Jarrett and i had spent a week in the mountains south of tumbler ridge trying to summit the highest peak in the area! Bulley glacier peak, 8800 feet, we were skunked after completing a circuit of the neighboring peak Bulleye Mt. peak. On the way out we spottted a pancake of rock sticking out of a mountain side above where the road ended and our truck was parked. it turned out to be about a kilometer long and maybe up to 500 metres tall in spots. Prime untouched solid rock to climb and develop. The idea of a cabin out there was tossed around then tabled over the winter.
When i got home the first test of whether i was healed enough for work was a snowmobile ride out to that range. I took pictures and sent them to Marla, told her of our plans. Then when the road was clear to drive in we went back and climbed and cut a trail into the climbing and explored. More pictures and stories for Marla.
Next thing i knew, Jarrett had a pile of materials and we were dragging them out into the woods by hand. Clearing and building and living the lives that stories are made of. We built our cabin and climbed and always i sent pictures and wrote storys for my lover in another land. We spoke often and it seemed perfect. People noticed a change in me, i wasnt running around drunk all the time with random floozies and i had to explain. I met a girl, I met her before and fucked it up once, I have a second chance and dont want to fuck it up.
There was shock, disbelief and belief, relief and many other reactions to this statement. My brother laughed and said ya until you lose interest and move on. many others supported the move, friends and ex-lovers pleased that someone had finally gotten to me.
The cabin at the end of the road. Thats what we called it and it stuck, we brought the first load of materials out on a trailer behind Jarretts one ton truck that we nicknamed the death star. White like a storm trooper and shiny new then, it was piled high with house parts and the trailer was heaped as well. In fact it was so overloaded that it took us close to 4 hours to get it into the end of the road. from dawson creek its about 100 km. to tumbler ridge or a one hour drive, from tumbler to the end of the bulley creek forest service road is only 70 km. even unloaded it takes 2 hours to drive in the rest of the way, and this time we had close to 3000 pounds of material on board. Jarrett and Dion and samurai ( dions boxer) and me packed all the beams for the roof system, the floor joists, the sheeting and nails and tools in the first day. By mid afternoon my leg and the titanium pins holding it together where screaming fire and hurt so i had to stop packing and began clearing the site and building a floor system. We decided on a spot about 300 yards from the road at the top of a rock bluff. the creek runs about 40 yards away and on previous trips we had cleared a camp site and dug a firepit down to mineral soil and lined it with river rocks. we slept that night around our fire next to our dreams all piled in the woods and it felt so good.
We woke to reinforcements Tyler Purnell (T bone or bonezy) and his jack russel named wizard. ate up the day packing more and building got the floor system built and leveled and went climbing!
chapter 3
June. My birthday came and went, Marla sent me socks and pens and some funny stationary and we talked lots. My brother and i built a plywood ramp next to the ditch in front of his houseand my riding buddies dion and morgan jean came out all the time to ride the ditch on the little bikes. Not just bmx either a honda 50 and child sized quads all got ridden in that ditch and some good bruises and raspberrys showed up as well from falls. Marla would laugh and call us fools when i told her of our shenanigans.
Then something imperfect happened. An event know as bushstock, outdoor music and swimming and camping by the river. i was riding into town and ran into my friend alex the groomer operator from powder king sleeping in his truck on the side of the road. He said im here for bushstock man gonna meet morgan jean and party! so we did, for 2 days living by the river on hotdogs and beer. woke the first day by the side of the river with a sixpack for a pillow,the second day i woke in a strange womans van to the sound of my boss whispering joeeeeey. his kids had seen my boots and i had forgotten my climbing date for sunday.
up like a flash gone climbing was my first words. and out of the van i went. Jarrett laughed i blushed and we went out to the cabin with the kids. they loved the tyrolean traverse we put up to cross the creek and it was so hot we all stuck our heads in the water on our way back from the rock even though that water is as glacier cold as the ice pack it flows out of 20 km. away.
when i got home though i wasnt so happy, i had fucked up and was dreading talking to Marla. it wasnt long before she popped up in cyberland and said the phrase that all relationships dread for some reason
We Need To Talk. then she proceeded to tell me how she had gotten drunk and made out with some random dude at a party. Oh my god! i was never quite so relieved, i told her i did the same thing but the dude i made out with was a woman. she asked me what this meant, and i asked her if she still wanted me. Of course was the reply and my heart damm near popped out of my chest. Shes smart and beautiful and all these things......and human! ohmygod!
we wrote such beautifull mush back and forth it was almost surreal and at one point i remember her say something to the effect off if i asked she would say yes. I knew what that meant and almost did ask her right then and there to marry me. but being a true blue romantic fool i really wanted to do it the old fashioned way. in person. for real.
We talked about everything and anything, the topic of substance abuse came up more than once and she was right to be concerned. i didnt hold back with the truth and it seemed true that there was a cycle that recurred.
july chapter 4
riding and climbing and marla and bbqs at our new homestead. Casa Del Christopher! a perfect life and chris and jaqui to be married on august first, drinking heavily was still running rampant through my life though and the night before the wedding we tied one on real good like. i came too some time in the wee hours in a buddies truck smoking on a crack pipe. not perfect. came thru the door with a couple hours to spare first thing turn on the computer boom marla. saying something wonderfull. it would have been easy to ignore that conversation pretend i didnt see say nothing back. but no, i said i fucked up, im fucked up i am freaking out.
there was no sympathy, she was pissed said something to the effect of i thought you were broke? and what the fuck? and i cant talk to you im so mad. your brother is counting on you now get your shit together and stop fucking this up we will talk but it wont be for i while im so mad at you.
morgan jean came and got me that morning. i told him what had happened on our way to wally world for fresh duds for the wedding. told him i thought i may have lost her cause i couldnt lie or not smoke crack.
MJ is a fountain of wisdom with very few words attached. He said don't smoke crack joey and you wont lose her or have to lie. We did the wedding thing and it was beautiful mom and dad both made it i saw very little of either and they sat as far from each other as possible. the reception i drank water from a flower vase almost all night. my cousin drove people home in his new barracuda that we picked up in squamish the month before and expressed disbelief at my not drinking. somewhere in there i lost some strenght dannys date was shamelessly hitting on me i was still reeling from the night before, a drink. some wine.then dancing, more wine. jarrett says he saw the switch flip. good joe to bad. coming back in with dirty knees and sweat flowing tina hanging back, then leaving with a couple bridesmaids and other people. we went to mcqueens slough and watched a lightning storm roll over the country side stripped naked and ran through the fields in the rain. a return to a more primal time. somehow a hottub and more debauchery. fuck it im allready down the tube might as well go all in.
The next day i left for prrince rupert with jarrett and his family on a fishing trip. 4 days on a boat. a small boat ohmygod.
chapter 5
Fishing with the Bergs and Rod Tram the owner of the local sporting goods store. We laid a bunch of hardwood and tile in his house and instead of giving him a bill Jarrettt put it towards a charter trip on rods boat. We spent 3 nights and 4 days on the boat and i got to show my nieces so many fishboat tricks like crabtraps and knots and the shiny cartilage bouncy ball inside a sharks eye. We went for walks on the beach and found shells and murdered crab every night, Rod turned out to be an exellent cook as well and between him me and jarrett brandi never had to cook once.
I still fight with the old demons, sometimes i win sometimes i lose.
to stop would be wrong, and if nothing else i want to do the right thing.
for better or for worse here i am.
First.
Marla
I met marla on my birthday, i think maybe my 30th birthday even. I like to go riding on my birthday, alone or with people it doesn't matter. hopefully allways will, this one i was with people not just people but great people. jai Balaam and Dave Turcotte to be precise we started early and covered a lot of ground before hitting the oak bay liqour store for cold beers at cheep prices (it's a secret, don't tell) our route took us past my lesbo tattoo freak friend brandi's place and she was on the porch drinking beer with some people so we stopped. Her girlfriend Jennie, Miranda, and Marla. stopped for a beer at rest instead of in the saddle...all great people in the sun on a porch. Happy birthday to me! Marla's laugh still sticks out in my mind. Loud and unafraid a lot like my niece abbygails. a wonderfull thing for sure, we laughed and had a great time and when Marla was up one time gone to the fridge for beer Brandi took me aside to whisper "i think she likes you" wink and grin. "I think i like her" i had to mock whisper back.
We didn't ride any more that day drank with brandi and company instead then got invited to a party elsewhere in fernwood drug them all with and me and Marla ended up dancing the night away at a party where no one else was dancing.
we hung out for the next couple weeks but i learned that she was leaving soon on an adventure. her and her friend chelsea wanted to ride thier mountain bikes to argentina and they planned on being gone several months. There was no sense in taking this seriously it was just a fling...but what a fling it was, every time i turned around something else. we went swimming at the sooke potholes and the jeep she picked me up in had ditch kisses up one side. i asked and she said it fell over out tree plantng but luckily there where enough peple to put it back up. i got in and noticed no carpet and the floor bungs popped out. Yes its been in some water she said. Eventually it ended and when she left south i left north moved to dawson creek again to go climbing and riding and house building.. we kept in touch for a little but then forgot. i visited the coast several times and often wondered but Brandi said "marlas with someone and happy i dont think you should try and talk to her."It hurt but it was true so i didn't
Then in the winter of 0 i was on an adventure of sorts that put me in victoria again. Walking down a street with my head in the clouds i heard "Joe? is that you?" turned and there she was...again. later she said she saw me and wasn't going to stop but then did, curiousity overcoming caution. do you want to get together and catch up? of course! maybe a ride to the beach and talk? hell yes! we set a date and went for a lovely ride to the beach and caught up on the last couple years and then said our goodbyes. after exchanging numbers.
The very next day i got a phone call. "that was lovely but im a little dissapointed i didn't get a hug from you"
i was trying to be a gentleman i said. would you like to get together again? "yes, i could show you pictures of my trip to mexico" they had run out of money and had to get jobs to pay for their tickets home. Also awsome! Sooo... we ended up spending mor time together...And again...."look this can't get serious i'm leaving for korea on a year long teaching trip." I really need a passport so i can go do cool shit like that i said. well get one and maybe we can do it together? was the reply. so obvious.
One year.
This story begins almost 1 year ago exactly. Its Friday, March 26 2010. Sometime around this time last year I was sitting in a restaraunt in Hope B.C. thinking about life. Now im sitting in my brothers living room still thinking about life. A lot has stayed the same, life is still here. I still love mountains and bikes and food and all the other things I loved before. A lot has changed, I have a licence and a jeep, and a passport and money in the bank for the future. All things i hadnt thought of having for a long time. 9 years with no licence. A lot longer with no bank account. This is the story of this year, starting then and ending now. Or as ended as a story based on a life can end assuming that life goes on. Its been an amazing year and i hope this tale does it justice.
Saturday, November 21, 2009 thats when i wrote this story about that day in march. I wrote it on a little computer that i had with me on that trip, bought it just before an atttempted mugging by some local youths that left me and my brother pretty badly beat up. I got a broken hand out of the deal that was no good for carpentering with so i went travelling to kill the time while i healed. actually thats how i ended up in victoria and meeting Marla....again.
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
So i carried on to Ymir B.C. by way of Kelowna Tattooing the whole way and hitchhiking. Then returned to the coast to meet with this girl Marla. We met in van one day at the korean consulate where she had to finalize some paperwork had lunch and hung out then tried to get together another time but got our timing messed up and blew it. The last time i saw here was the day before she left. i bussed out to tswassen and wandered all over the place and had just about given up when i reached her at her parents. We met and hung out and had a good visit despite my being half in a bottle of fireball that id bought for the bus ride. When i got on the bus back into vancouver i was sauced and emotional, 12 hours later i was at rock bottom, camping under an overpass high as fuck on freebase cocaine. Spent every cent in my pockets and had no luck selling my computer for more so i decided to spend my last minutes in that day writing. The truth and nothing but same as what i still write today. i wrote Marla a letter to tell her what she was dealing with and what i was thinking. i couldnèt find the letter i sent her but it boils down to an admission of guilt. I was guilty of being a cocaine adict from the time i was eighteen on. Of being incapable of telling the truth about that and therefore so many other things in my life. Of the hurt that so many other girls who had gotten close to me had suffered.
I wrote it and in the morning i hitchhiked home. it took 2 days and i was penniless and hungry by the time i got home. But i got home to work and a home and life went on. I wrestled with that letter in my computer for the whole trip home and when i got there i sent it. I went to work and checked my mail and within the week i got a reply. The gist of it was that she knew allready but to hear it like that hurt. A lot. That she wasnt going to talk to me until she could read that letter without crying. Other things as well lost now in cyberlimbo.
Still she wrote me though. And I wrote back, we talked of me getting my passport and coming to visit her in korea. She sent my letter to a friend who warned her as well of the dangers of falling for an addict, but she told me all of it and sent the letter from her friend to me. She was my friend and cared. A lot.
Marla told me about a program called skype, free videocalls world wide. We talked, face to face, about all sorts of things and we stopped thinking as friends, or just friends anyways. We had been lovers before and the attraction was undeniable.
I began saving money and spending on things i had long neglected that i would need to get a passport. B.C.I.D. My birth certificate. Also things i personally wanted and needed, my licence back first. We fell in love. Again
chapter 2.
During this time i also had many fine adventures. The year before my cousin Jarrett and i had spent a week in the mountains south of tumbler ridge trying to summit the highest peak in the area! Bulley glacier peak, 8800 feet, we were skunked after completing a circuit of the neighboring peak Bulleye Mt. peak. On the way out we spottted a pancake of rock sticking out of a mountain side above where the road ended and our truck was parked. it turned out to be about a kilometer long and maybe up to 500 metres tall in spots. Prime untouched solid rock to climb and develop. The idea of a cabin out there was tossed around then tabled over the winter.
When i got home the first test of whether i was healed enough for work was a snowmobile ride out to that range. I took pictures and sent them to Marla, told her of our plans. Then when the road was clear to drive in we went back and climbed and cut a trail into the climbing and explored. More pictures and stories for Marla.
Next thing i knew, Jarrett had a pile of materials and we were dragging them out into the woods by hand. Clearing and building and living the lives that stories are made of. We built our cabin and climbed and always i sent pictures and wrote storys for my lover in another land. We spoke often and it seemed perfect. People noticed a change in me, i wasnt running around drunk all the time with random floozies and i had to explain. I met a girl, I met her before and fucked it up once, I have a second chance and dont want to fuck it up.
There was shock, disbelief and belief, relief and many other reactions to this statement. My brother laughed and said ya until you lose interest and move on. many others supported the move, friends and ex-lovers pleased that someone had finally gotten to me.
The cabin at the end of the road. Thats what we called it and it stuck, we brought the first load of materials out on a trailer behind Jarretts one ton truck that we nicknamed the death star. White like a storm trooper and shiny new then, it was piled high with house parts and the trailer was heaped as well. In fact it was so overloaded that it took us close to 4 hours to get it into the end of the road. from dawson creek its about 100 km. to tumbler ridge or a one hour drive, from tumbler to the end of the bulley creek forest service road is only 70 km. even unloaded it takes 2 hours to drive in the rest of the way, and this time we had close to 3000 pounds of material on board. Jarrett and Dion and samurai ( dions boxer) and me packed all the beams for the roof system, the floor joists, the sheeting and nails and tools in the first day. By mid afternoon my leg and the titanium pins holding it together where screaming fire and hurt so i had to stop packing and began clearing the site and building a floor system. We decided on a spot about 300 yards from the road at the top of a rock bluff. the creek runs about 40 yards away and on previous trips we had cleared a camp site and dug a firepit down to mineral soil and lined it with river rocks. we slept that night around our fire next to our dreams all piled in the woods and it felt so good.
We woke to reinforcements Tyler Purnell (T bone or bonezy) and his jack russel named wizard. ate up the day packing more and building got the floor system built and leveled and went climbing!
chapter 3
June. My birthday came and went, Marla sent me socks and pens and some funny stationary and we talked lots. My brother and i built a plywood ramp next to the ditch in front of his houseand my riding buddies dion and morgan jean came out all the time to ride the ditch on the little bikes. Not just bmx either a honda 50 and child sized quads all got ridden in that ditch and some good bruises and raspberrys showed up as well from falls. Marla would laugh and call us fools when i told her of our shenanigans.
Then something imperfect happened. An event know as bushstock, outdoor music and swimming and camping by the river. i was riding into town and ran into my friend alex the groomer operator from powder king sleeping in his truck on the side of the road. He said im here for bushstock man gonna meet morgan jean and party! so we did, for 2 days living by the river on hotdogs and beer. woke the first day by the side of the river with a sixpack for a pillow,the second day i woke in a strange womans van to the sound of my boss whispering joeeeeey. his kids had seen my boots and i had forgotten my climbing date for sunday.
up like a flash gone climbing was my first words. and out of the van i went. Jarrett laughed i blushed and we went out to the cabin with the kids. they loved the tyrolean traverse we put up to cross the creek and it was so hot we all stuck our heads in the water on our way back from the rock even though that water is as glacier cold as the ice pack it flows out of 20 km. away.
when i got home though i wasnt so happy, i had fucked up and was dreading talking to Marla. it wasnt long before she popped up in cyberland and said the phrase that all relationships dread for some reason
We Need To Talk. then she proceeded to tell me how she had gotten drunk and made out with some random dude at a party. Oh my god! i was never quite so relieved, i told her i did the same thing but the dude i made out with was a woman. she asked me what this meant, and i asked her if she still wanted me. Of course was the reply and my heart damm near popped out of my chest. Shes smart and beautiful and all these things......and human! ohmygod!
we wrote such beautifull mush back and forth it was almost surreal and at one point i remember her say something to the effect off if i asked she would say yes. I knew what that meant and almost did ask her right then and there to marry me. but being a true blue romantic fool i really wanted to do it the old fashioned way. in person. for real.
We talked about everything and anything, the topic of substance abuse came up more than once and she was right to be concerned. i didnt hold back with the truth and it seemed true that there was a cycle that recurred.
july chapter 4
riding and climbing and marla and bbqs at our new homestead. Casa Del Christopher! a perfect life and chris and jaqui to be married on august first, drinking heavily was still running rampant through my life though and the night before the wedding we tied one on real good like. i came too some time in the wee hours in a buddies truck smoking on a crack pipe. not perfect. came thru the door with a couple hours to spare first thing turn on the computer boom marla. saying something wonderfull. it would have been easy to ignore that conversation pretend i didnt see say nothing back. but no, i said i fucked up, im fucked up i am freaking out.
there was no sympathy, she was pissed said something to the effect of i thought you were broke? and what the fuck? and i cant talk to you im so mad. your brother is counting on you now get your shit together and stop fucking this up we will talk but it wont be for i while im so mad at you.
morgan jean came and got me that morning. i told him what had happened on our way to wally world for fresh duds for the wedding. told him i thought i may have lost her cause i couldnt lie or not smoke crack.
MJ is a fountain of wisdom with very few words attached. He said don't smoke crack joey and you wont lose her or have to lie. We did the wedding thing and it was beautiful mom and dad both made it i saw very little of either and they sat as far from each other as possible. the reception i drank water from a flower vase almost all night. my cousin drove people home in his new barracuda that we picked up in squamish the month before and expressed disbelief at my not drinking. somewhere in there i lost some strenght dannys date was shamelessly hitting on me i was still reeling from the night before, a drink. some wine.then dancing, more wine. jarrett says he saw the switch flip. good joe to bad. coming back in with dirty knees and sweat flowing tina hanging back, then leaving with a couple bridesmaids and other people. we went to mcqueens slough and watched a lightning storm roll over the country side stripped naked and ran through the fields in the rain. a return to a more primal time. somehow a hottub and more debauchery. fuck it im allready down the tube might as well go all in.
The next day i left for prrince rupert with jarrett and his family on a fishing trip. 4 days on a boat. a small boat ohmygod.
chapter 5
Fishing with the Bergs and Rod Tram the owner of the local sporting goods store. We laid a bunch of hardwood and tile in his house and instead of giving him a bill Jarrettt put it towards a charter trip on rods boat. We spent 3 nights and 4 days on the boat and i got to show my nieces so many fishboat tricks like crabtraps and knots and the shiny cartilage bouncy ball inside a sharks eye. We went for walks on the beach and found shells and murdered crab every night, Rod turned out to be an exellent cook as well and between him me and jarrett brandi never had to cook once.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
reflections
We are sittting in my boss and cousin jarretts truck driving to windsor plywood for materials, on a backroad outside dawson creek B.C. its winter outside and the landscape is white and blue with some dark green patchwork quilt effect. spruce trees and fenceposts breaking the horizon line. we are rolling past a farmhouse and in the yard, in the snow at a fire pit sits an old man on a round of firewood in front of a campfire smoking a pipe and roasting a wiener on a stick. A small boy is playing in the yard nearby, tossing a stick for a dog.
Thats what it looks like anyways, the old man looks very old. As old as mud maybe, and he looks as contnted as if he was the man who invented mud even. The child is a boy and very young and depite their winter clothes because it is -15 outside they both look very comfortable at their tasks. the dog all frisky thru the snow and the boys rosy cheeks. The old mans back hunched into the wind as he smokes and the fire smokes and the sun shines.
All this in a moments glance as we roll by and then jarrett says ''did any one else see that'' quietly.
''the old guy with the pipe n stick'' My brother replies.
''Thats gonna be me when im old'' says Jarrett and we all agree it was a pretty awsome monent to drive through.
Thats what it looks like anyways, the old man looks very old. As old as mud maybe, and he looks as contnted as if he was the man who invented mud even. The child is a boy and very young and depite their winter clothes because it is -15 outside they both look very comfortable at their tasks. the dog all frisky thru the snow and the boys rosy cheeks. The old mans back hunched into the wind as he smokes and the fire smokes and the sun shines.
All this in a moments glance as we roll by and then jarrett says ''did any one else see that'' quietly.
''the old guy with the pipe n stick'' My brother replies.
''Thats gonna be me when im old'' says Jarrett and we all agree it was a pretty awsome monent to drive through.
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