corea

once upon a time in a far away land called corea a beautiful young virgin bride was drowned offshore of a small fishing village. Her husband was not able to swim out in time to save her and after the tradgedy the fish catch in the area began to decline.
Steadily the catch decreased in sinnam, this lovely little fishing village was helpless without the fish that they lived on and sold inland for their livelyhood.
one day a fisherman had to empty his bladder and he did so into the surf  from up on the rocks, that day he caught more fish than he had in weeks before.
remembering the unfulfilled young brides tragic end, he assumed that the girls death had cursed the area and unless she got what was denied the curse would remain.
and so the story of sinnam and its penis park began. i don't know how long ago but judging by the numbers and variety of styles it must have been a long long time back.
today you can go to this little village, which is still small but visibly thriving, the racks of squid and fish drying will attest to this. and if you pay a small fee of 8000 won, ( about 8 dollars canadian) you can enter the park and see just how important making this girl happy was to the generations that followed. the hillside has a all the asian park necessitys, gnarled pines and cleaned stone paths with a rugged shoreline below. the first thing at the entrance that tells you its not just a park but a story is the bundles of  sticks hanging in the trees. all carved to resemble phallic symbols.  then the sticks standing from the ground at chest height, bell ends with faces carved in the shafts these are all obviously old, very old. around a corner you meet the next generations, a giant bronze dick juts from the middle of the path, above that a black stone dick on an axle so it rocks up and down with 3 more erect above it. granite and wood ornate and simple every generation has added an erection. literally hundreds around the countryside.
And at the top of the hill a diorama, lifesize korean fishermen with their dicks to the wind. Halfway down the hill is a fishing museum with aquariums and boats and gear explaining how important the fish are to the people.

In fact if you spend any time looking around this country you will see how much history means to them, when the japanese ruled for 35 minutes in the 70's they wrecked as much as they could to break their spirit. and when they left the korean people rebuilt. painstakingly. they kept the new spelling, when japan took power they renamed corea, the letter k is further down the alphabet than j so that was how the new spelling went. you will still see the old spelling on old buildings and signs.
i met 2 old men in the ancient fortress city inside suwon, who assured me that it was a very new city in relative terms. started in 1796 and finished in 1797 it had artillery emplaceents and was a miracle of modern technology. both men mr. kim and mr. park knew of canadian history which they learned in high school. mr park seved in the korean airforce for 28 years and thanked me personally for all that our people had done for theirs during the korean war. Mr kim sang to me a song about the rocky mountains in the morning, with perfect pitch. he forgot the words halfway but carried the tune anyway.
All in all it was a surreal country to visit, i recommend a visit to anyone with a sense of humour and respect for history.

backyard climbing. DIY

2008. dion mitchells back yard, my newest climbing partner and long time riding partner and room mate is climbing a tree.literally.
  as always it started innocently enough, we spent the weekend in the pine pass snowboarding at powderking. I was sneaky and packed an extra bag of gear, saturday night in the chalet after a full day of epic powder and digging a snow cave to camp in that night i spring the trap.
 "want to go climbing dee?" is all it takes.
So dion got his first climb that night. On ice. At night. it was good and we went back and bribed alex the groomer operater for a ride to the top of the mountain and went to sleep in our cave. after a couple more beers of course.
  The next day was sunny and bright and we were both sore and a little slow so when we stopped for lunch i suggested we maybe go do dairy queen again in the daylight, dion was game till we got to the bottom of it. then he pinched a small fit!
"you made me climb that?"  "it's terrifying. And tall. And scary...." I got the impression he was impressed.
So i made him do it again, different in the light. At night you climb in a 6 foot bubble, just what your headlamp will reach.
  On the way home with the fear fading we started planning to do lots more. You know they build ice climbs in banff for competions?
  Boom idea is born! We should do that, with temperatures around 40 below for weeks on end it would be easy. It wasn't as easy as that but pretty dam close.the first year we hung pallets from the poplar trees in his back yard and made a very short climb. 20 feet maybe in total if you counted the top section the water never froze to.
  the second year we borrowed 3 tiers of scaffolding from Jarret, and set them up in the center of the backyard surrounded by snow covered bmx ramps and then leaned the shitty old ladder up against the structure on one side. wrapped a bunch of chicken wire the the top and stuffed old pizza boxes behind the wire. Dion for some reason collects pizza boxes, i think he intends to build a gaint out of them one day.
 armed with last years mistakes we laid pvc plumbing round the top edge and drilled holes in the bottom every couple inches. this spread the water evenly and allowed it to chill much faster. Presto! no melty streak for the first 3 feet, an actual wall of ice began to form almost instantly. within hours we could tell it was going to work.
  Getting the volume of water right was crucial and there were mistakes made, too much and it would still melt the top, not enough and the water would freeze in the line. more than several time we would check the ice wall only to discover crunchy hard line froze right back to the window it was run out of.
  One morning while enjoying my coffe i discovered the hose was froze, pulled on my boots and helmet grabbed my axes and started up the wall to untie the line.Our neighbor next door was out in the yard with his dog and didn't see me till i was halfway up, the climb had been up for over a week already but the sight of me in my houserobe and climbing gear was the straw that broke his poor back! Chuckles quickly turned to loud out of control laughter, i kept a straight face and finished my chore and im sure that just fanned the flames of outrageous humor.
  he had seen us ride the ramps with little bikes ride the trampoline with little bikes ride the ramps with little quads and motorcycles, combine the ramps and trampoline. fires and fireworks live music and ramps in the garage during winter months when the snow kept us of the outside ramps and never uttered a word.
Years of carefully concealed guffaws burst thru. I coiled the hose and carried it inside without letting my mask crack. "I think we finally got him Dion!" I said as i pulled my boots and cramps of in the entryway.
He turned and looked at me and cracked too.
 "The hose froze and you went and got it down like that?" not really a question more an accusation. "That calls for a lap on the wall" mock mad that i would do something so obviously needing punishment by being forced to climb. grab a hold in the hallway, traverse past the bathroom into the boulder cave and start doing laps until we fall.
indoors or out the mountains are in our blood.

Step out for a smoke. There’s an old guy outside smoking on the motel porch next door and I ask him if he’s here hunting. it’s a no brainer as he’s head to toe camo and he says “ya, a bit“.

The night air out here in the mountains is a crisp glass of water for the lungs and every diamond star has carved its own perfect hole in the night sky.
I ask him if hes got anything yet and he grins and shakes his, “hell no” with a chuckle “sure been nice though”
That’s a style right there. we laugh and small talk about the grandness of it all for a bit over a smoke and a beer then turn he turns and retires as I finish my butt. “Take care” is all he says as he leaves.

When I climb I climb for the top but ill be dammed if I’m going to let not getting there ruin my day. To try again is sublime. Another kick at a spectacular can that many never even consider to dream of.
It’s the same when I ride, anyone who’s ever walked by a skate park has seen the kid there flipping out and throwing his skate or bike and yelling obscenities because he didn’t land the trick. That’s not me, not ever. Win lose or draw ridings riding just like climbing or making out with a girl. Its all good.

Which brings us to style again. This style in particular. It’s not an easy one to master and its not for everyone, to be able to see thru this moments bullshit and keep a cool head. To appreciate. Truly, the beauty , the lesson, the magic behind every moment. So your down to your last 3 bucks with your head behind a dumpster high as fuck on crack and life sucks. What did you learn? That sucks don’t do it dummy! You just learned a lesson and if your smart you’ll be proud and move on and learn more lessons.

Then, when summit day turns into a tent climbing session you may just learn to make a truly excellent soupy pasta casserole with shredded beef jerky. File that one for later you just learned something new.
Super 8 motel desk girls are a notoriously soft touch if you really need a blanket tonight on the side of the road. But not always so keep that one when you get it.
And for gods sake now that you know you may need a blanket go buy yourself a good sleeping bag as soon as you can afford one. That’s part of the style, a little investment and or preparation go a long way.

Buy a pocket knife, it’s a million tools in one. And when the import beer you bought to impress the girl turns out to not twist off? Learn to pop it with your pocket knife.

Do you know what the big dipper looks like? The two stars that make up the side furthest from the handle point almost directly at the north star about 3 fists away from the top of the dipper. Presto your able to orient at night anywhere in the world.

Sometimes things may really seem to suck. I know I’ve been guilty of it, grumpy bitter mean and spiteful when things aren’t going exactly right. That’s where if you’ve been paying attention you will knuckle yourself on the head and remember the style. Fix what you can, accept what you can’t apologize to whoever you may have pissed off. Move on and learn or be doomed to repeat.

Ask directions. And don’t be shy about it. Even if you don’t think you need them you it cant hurt to check against what you think you know. Plus you just met someone.
Share. Food and drink. Money, your bed your life. No more than you can spare and don’t be shy about saying no. But if you can spare a dime do it. Sometimes it comes back and let me tell you it feels really good when it does. When a dude chases you down in the ferry terminal, gives you a twenty and says “this is for the fiver you gave me 3 years ago. Thanks man.”

Style

Wear it with pride



Learn to cook, everywhere and everything.

Chicks dig it.

another love story

I fell in love once. Or twice....
Ok, you got me. I fall in love at the drop of a hat, and this is a perfect example.
i was hitch hiking south one spring solo. at the time this wasn't really ordinary for me, i had hitch hiked south from dawson the year before with my tattoo apprentice and sawmilling and general all round buddy Andrew Treibel to go climbing in squamish. This year i was on my own, first long distance trip solo on the thumb.
Epic times really!
When me and andy went we got stuck in hundred mile house and caved in, bought bus tickets south and so missed getting out in cache creek to stretch our legs. Not me this time. I got out of a car in cache creek and a tumbleweed tumbled past in the scorching sun. Real lazy like...after coming from snow and ice all winter it kind of blew my mind and i gawked then pointed and said "tumbleweed!" to no one.
 Spences bridge was the next stop and my ride there was a  bald redneck guy who said he only gave me a ride cause i was bald and white. Couldnt be too bad with credentials like that by his reasoning.
He was driving that canyon road fast and cursing slow traffic and we were bullshitting bout who and what we were and from where till i asked if he burnt reefer.
 "Hell ya boy!" was the reply.
So we burnt one and he went polar opposite. slowed to 20 under the speed limit and began to curse and finger the drivers piling up behind us. Pretty damm funny i thought and then we turned of into spences bridge. right onto the bridge actually. and dropped me of o the far side of the river in old town on the main drag there. Pointed south and said the road ran right back to the highway just down there.
Turn, look south. High noon. Or thereabouts, shoulder your pack, rudiculously heavy with camping gear, clothes, rock rack, shoes and rope, water bottle and sundry stuffs.
 Take it in, a sunbaked dirt main street. Wooden side walks. False front stores and goddam tumbleweeds.
Crazy redneck in a blue chev pickup waving and cackling into the distance.
I settle my house on my back and take a couple steps.
Then it happens, a girl steps out of the saloon onto the board walk and turns my way.
Her hands are full with grocery bags and a small child is strapped to her side hanging over a shoulder.She has so may bags in both hands the muscles in her shoulders are clearly visible but she looks solid with the load and ready to travel. there is no denying she's beautiful. A classic look that never gets old. Tall and dark with long dark curls and dark brown eyes. wearing a simple slip of a dress and sandals and groceries and child.
She looks at me, up then down and up again.
Smiles and says "you look like your packing almost as heavy as me. you should come in for a meal."
Right now i should mention that im an idiot.
I had eaten A&W in cache creek just up the road. and filled my canteen. and was determined to push thru to squamish that night.
I told her id just eaten. she said "its hot out maybe you should come in for a drink?"
I told her my canteen was full and thanked her for the hospitality but i had miles to make.
I am an idiot.
It gets worse, as i walk past the swinging double doors to the place i see inside behind the counter, drying a glass her double. Twin sister or or mother or cousin or unrelated doppleganger whichever it may have been i walked past and kept on going.
They were beatiful and friendly and i kick myself every time i think of them.
Idiot
Made squamish that night, got of the bus at the climbers campsite, first campsite full of freaks the mohawk playing gituar jumps up and shouts at me. "hey JOE!! your moms in the site next to us! welcome home!"
Life carries on and that girl stayed with me. i told this story to a friend on an epic journey once and we stopped in spences bridge but the saloon was a cafe now and no girl was in sight so we crossed the bridge and fell in love with the red headed firecracker at the log cabin pub named shale.

shoo that little dutch boy with the finger away from the leak in my minds dyke
see the stream of ideas begin to spray out the hole, eating away at the wall
growing and gaining strenght with each passing moment
feel the winds of change gather at my back
filling sails stretched taut on the mast of my body my spars spread right to the fingertips
grasp the helm firm and point my bow towards the vast unknown
leap into the stream and let it carry me to the sea
run thru the fields and leap cross the ditches
chasing the jackrabbits of inspiration
take a compass bearing on the highest point of the horizon
and gain elevation with every step
till the world spreads its pearls of wisdom across the horizon
to do what with i know not

smart things stupid things and just things people said to me

ive had some pretty smart people say some pretty stupid things to me.
and some dumb motherfuckers say some pretty smart things too.
thats what lifes about i figure, seeing what there is in front of you and never mind the source.
sometimes things get said that bare repeating thats for sure, and im going to try and recall a couple
right now, for you.

morgan jean, the bmx machine. A simple man of simple wants and few words.
still a blonde hair blue eye farmboy of doom on wheels after a full decade of riding together. " want to know the meaning of life?"
"want what you do joey, and do what you want. you'll be fine"
Silence, for hours. he can do that like that.
MJ quit racing when he was 14 because it was getting in the way of his love of riding.
On pain, "Pain is how you can tell your alive." "right now im super alive!"
"Running out of pop joey." Pop is what makes a little bike go up. Running out means time to go for a soda. Put some pop back!
Morgan Jean firmly believes that a beer left untended is a beer unloved and so undeserved. his guideline is ten seconds roughly. he's so good at rescueing these unloved soldiers that his friends all call it morgan jeaning a beer. or mixed drink. or what have you.

Brian Starling. welder and fisherman. good man alround said "It all comes out in the wash"
meaning ill  buy beer today, i'll buy beer tommorow. your turn will come around and even if it doesnt it'll still come out in the wash and we'll still need beer.

J. berg boss cousin and climbing partner. "Roll it up motherfucker!"

Evil wop. pete maggoria. "old age and treachery will overcome youth and vigour every time."
obvious what that one means.
Also, "Too fat to fly-Too windy to pile rocks"  Meaning time to go for a soda. Or beer. Or whiskey.
Also: use this first. then that...and then....only then use those. pointing first at the head, then trigger finger and finally balls. Im pretty sure he meant think your way out before you shoot your way out. And only after those options are exhausted can you fuck it all up.

Boss. Norm Wicketts on fuck-ups at work. "Make it go away"
didn't care how just as long as when the sun came up whatever it is was, wasn't.

Ron Gallagher. Remembered and would tell stories of when norm was a wet behind the ears kid.
He taught me to call in feeling well if it was that nice out. Norman never forgave him for teaching me that before he died. Norman and i and the boys had a rip roaring time at rons wake right down to the fistfight outside with a sponging junkie relative just there to see what he could swipe.
His daughter shelly danced on the table with me and was the spitting image of her father when push came to shove with the unwelcome guest. made me feel right at home giving him the bums rush.
Every time i look sideways at a person and say "mischief?" with a question mark i swear its him getting his favorite word out through me.

Captain Dan from the movie Forest Gump. Lashed to the mast screaming at the storm "Is That All You Got?!?"  Jarrett tries to kick me every time i scream that one into the weather. It has bit us a couple times but its never been enough to wash the deck of us.

and last but not least. i forget who said this but its good
"Be the change you wish to see in the world"

chapter 2

an idea is only so good without action. actually its no good without action. ideas come and ideas go and if you dont act neither will an idea.
  So the cabin at the end of the road began as a pile of leftoer lumber and house parts. We discussed it and ideas were tossed round then out but the action would have to wait till spring. The trip where the idea was born was the last one for the summer and as we left storms and snow and ice descended on our little end of the road paradise.
 J. berg, the jarrett in charge with the piles of wood is a dynamo. one spring day while discussing the possibility of the road being open into the mountains declared he had all the parts piled up and was going to start cutting and labeling them if i felt like comeing by and helping. well holy shit thats a far sight further into it than i had figured, a couple nights of that and we had a car trailer full of parts and a plan just waiting to spring into action.
 When we sprang, it was not a graceful spring. We loaded the car trailer and the death star as full as we dared. 1 full lift of fiberboard sheeting for the roof and walls 2by12 for the floor system 16 inch fabricated wood i beams for the a frame roof sheeting for the floor, doors, windows, nails, glue, all in all we figured about 3000 pounds on that trip alone and no room for shingles.