A Farewell To Fun and Adventure

Well before I jump headfirst into an endless sea of details, let me tell you that Vancouver is quite the place to be, especially when on vacation. From Granville to Gastown, there are plenty amusing things to do, sights to see, and hobos to pay. I had a rather interesting first time experience in this vast and mountain-sheltered city, and it all started at a hostel downtown.

I arrived at the Hostel International in the winking hours of the morning, carrying a hefty 50 pound back housing a tent that I did not get to use, as well as a daypack and my coat. I paid for my room - a 4 man dorm, and the guy at the desk directed me towards the lounge, where I hung out until it was time to grab my key. Having been incredibly bus lagged, due to the inaccesibility of comfortable sleeping areas, I passed out on one of the couches in the lounge. Four hours twinkled by, and I was awoken by a chorus of chatter, in all different languages/accents. This must be what hostel life is like, I mentally noted. I glanced around at the collection of travelled folk, and they all were eating danishes and muffins, not to mention reading a certain magazine with a certain large article my sister wrote about a ludicrous bike excursion across China. I was starving and sleepy eyed, and a little confused. To my demise, all the breakfast pastries were gobbled up, and I was left with half a bag of salt and vinegar chips that I had snacked on the bus. Alas, I got the key to my room, and I promptly dropped my things off, only to be introduced by a couple of Aussies, and a mexican dude who couldn't speak a word of English. I introduced myself, only to get an enthusiastic "si" in reply.

Before I banter on about the minute details of the Hostel, I'll fast forward a bit to a night at the pub, where I met a funny band of Irish people. I was alone, a little bored, and in the mood for socialization - and having a mexican who couldn't speak any English at my disposal didn't help much. I decided to have a pint or two at the pub, and I began to actually hold a conversation with someone. I was greeted by two Irish girls, we shared a pint, and they laughed at my canadian accent, eh. Then a slew of even more irishmen began to play some folk songs in front of the open mic. Eventually I introduced myself to all of them, and succesfully earned myself a group of friends to talk to.

The next morning, after a cook-it-yourself pancake brekky, I moseyed around the downtown district of Vancouver, and I checked out some interesting stores. For instance, I glanced around all six stories of the Tom Lee music store, got to play on a real analog synthesizer, and I felt like a kid in a candy store. Then I went and checked out the leviathan public library in the centre of the city. At first glance I thought it was some giant colloseum-esque art museum, but then I explored it's confines and found an exstensive collection of information to satiate my slightly bored mind.

Now I don't know the exact order of my adventures, but I can sum up some of the more interesting events in a paragraph or two. Lets see, I hiked in the beautiful backyard of Horseshoe bay, and saw giant mossy trees and ripping rapids. I almost slipped and took a spill, but luckily my planter agility and stretchy go-go-gadget limbs saved me from disaster. After a long hike, Dan, Cody, Katelyn and I rested on a park bench and watched a beautiful sunset flicker on the sea and mountains.

Another day came by, I had nothing to do, so I visited Stanley Park. Apparently it was hit by a massive windstorm, and 10,000 trees were felled by it's wake - creating a depressing yet interesting display of chaos in the park. I ended up hiking all around it, got lost for a bit and ended up walking in a loop around some lake, and then I found my way back and ended up on some beach somewhere, where I took a nice long nap.

Then there was the day where I was wandering around downtown with a map in my hand, looking for somewhere interesting to go, and I met a hippyfied local - who gave me an extensive tour of all the hippy hotspots in Vancouver, including the mellowfied commercial drive. I told her some of my crazy treeplanting stories, and she told me some of her crazy drug-induced drum-circle stories - and then I bought a cookie.

Later that night, I ran into the crew of Irishmen again - and they dragged me to the pub, where they proceeded to drink me under the table. After something close to four pitchers, and some liquor, they brought me back to there room for some Whiskey.. which at that point, seemed a little to excessive for me, however I did my best to keep up.

After hopping around from two different hostels, I ended up at the Cambie hostel near Gastown, and I got a room with a funny German dude, an attractive Australian girl, and an Italian dude who would not leave the room or his laptop. Cody and Dan accompanied me, and I introduced Cody to the irishmen that I met a few nights back. After another rowdy night of drinking, Dan Cody and I - all slightly hungover decided to go hang out at Commercial drive again - and they decided to get there by foot. This proved to be a kind of bad idea, and I witnissed the scarier corrupted side of Vancouver. It's an amazing contrast - having a posh rich area right on the west of Vancouver, and a junkie-filled slum on the other side. We made it through alright, staying close in our numbers, and then we arrived back at one of the hippy hotspots, and then climbed a tree.

Another night back at the Hostel, I met some americans, and even a few treeplanters (strangely enough from Celtic) - and we chilled in this little open area between all the rooms and strummed on some guitars. Louise and Shawna, two of the lovely Irish girls accompanied me, and then dragged me out to the pub and filled me with booze. It was a crazy night to say the least.

Lets see.. what else did I get to do. I visited Jericho Beach, played a mean game of hacky sack in Robson square, saw some crazy hoola hoopers - there are too many fun things to name.

It was a fun and educational experience - I had never thought I'd have such a great time alone in a city I had never explored, and I realised the awesomeness that Hostels exude. It was a great vacation, quite up to par with last year's Penticton, and I established some close friendships with some very interesting people.

Tonight I head back on the hound so grey towards the town so sketchy - ala Prince George. I'll be shoving trees in the ground in a day or so - so fun times await. We're finally staying in camp this time around, so it should fun to meet some familiar faces from last year, and be catered too once again.

I'll have more updates around the bend, so stay snappy.

For now, I would like to thank the crazy city of Vancouver for making my break fun and exciting - and someday I shall visit you again.

- James

Photo Collection I

Hmmm.. looks like I'm too lazy to write an update today, to compensate - here are some photographs for your viewing pleasure/displeasure. Enjoy!

The Wise Adventurer, Cody Kolenchuk, atop the Haglund

Willy chillin' under a silvicool tarp

Dustin quadding it over some rough terrain

Dan The Man Baggin' Er Up

Pushing the Quad out of a gully

Mr. Teddy Morton and Jarret (aka J-Root/J-Rot)


Looking silly at the cache


The Haglund - Fun Filled Discomfort! Yay!


Teddy, Jarret, Matt, and I


Katelyn and Moab (aka Mojo - or Mojimo) in the Haglund


Dan, Cody, and Jarret cramped in the Haglund

Thank you K-tron for the pics! More to come soon!

- Music Man

My Life: The Crazy Sitcom

Two weeks of splendor in a sunny campsite have passed by at a pleasant pace, and once again we are lodging at the Brothers Motel, for comfortable living and affordable hospitality. I will surely miss the tranquil melodies of the campfire, the cozy sleephaven that is my tent, and the warm breakfasts lovingly prepared for our quivering lips. Yet most of these simple pleasures are more or less made up for with the motel, what with hot showers, television, and warm beds.

Before I ramble on, let me lament about an emotional experience that I witnissed only about a week ago. Our good and trusty trooper of a friend Matt, suffered from a mild form of heat stroke after a hot tepid day on the block. He looked a little rough the next day, and he was still feeling most of the symptons; like nausea, cold sweats and whatnot. The next day he looked a little green, and was complaining about chest pains. Eventually, he told the Celtic Supervisor Rory that he really wasn't feeling well, and that he felt he should have a visit to the hospital. All of us were curious that day of what had happened to him, and we didn't find out until the next day. Apparently Matt suffered a minor heart attack, and he's been laying in bed in the Prince George hospital for a while, all drugged up and forced to stare at a pretty mural. I can't say I've ever had a friend who's had a heartattack, and it's a little scary and strange. We went to go visit him and we gave him our best wishes, as well as his prized possession (his gameboy DS) and a book to keep his mind off of things. It was a touching yet stirring moment.. and I really felt sorry for the guy. However, I hear through the slashy grapevine that he's doing alright, and he's been shipped to Vancouver for some tests - he also tells Cody that he'd like to come back and plant some more once he's fully recuperated, and for that reason Matt - you are a true planter with the cajones of a mad bull - right on good buddy. We miss ya! Get well soon.

In other less unfortunate news, things have gone well work wise on the block. All of our crew is pulling their weight - even when excessively hungover/drunk - such as the day after Jarret's 19th birthday. The man had almost 19 shots of hard liquor, including the deathly Prarie Fire - and he was slammered and yammered to no avail - it was great. Please excuse my overexcessive use of hyphens.. I just feel like today's more of a "casual grammar" type of day.. if you know what I mean. Anyway, we only have a couple days and a half before the break - which is both rock-awesomely sweet, and bad, cause it might be a long one (like a couple weeks). I might look for some work for one week, and then there has been talk of visiting Cathedral Grove near Victoria Island, to camp out and look at some really awesome and ginormagantic trees! I can't wait to chill on a beach too.

Anyway, I'm planting hard as ever.. and the summer contract is slowly approaching right around the corner, which means jungle planting and noseeums... uggh.

'till next time,
Screefer

Balancing A Life Of Two Extremes

There is nothing more satisfying than hopping in a cold refreshing lake, after planting in 17 cent slash in 32 degree weather with a perpetual slew of mosquitoes biting your every nook and cranny. I've attained this satisfaction recently at my new humblest of abodes, at the Purden Lake Resort campground an hour north of Prince George. Finally, the job is starting to feel a little more like a vacation. The scenery is mesmerising; be it the snowy rockies in the distance, or perhaps the leviathan trees - they all make life a little more negotiable. Alas, I also have the luxury of enjoying the simple primitive bliss of a cozy campfire, lightly serenaded by acoustic guitars and conversation. My tent also adds to the opulence - it took me hours to figure out the framework of the darn thing and pur it all together, but it was well worth the frustration and mosquito bites. Another new quirk of our camping lifestyle is being catered to. There's nothing like getting up at 5:30 in the morning, and ambling my way up to the cafe for a hot serving of eggs, bacon, hashbrowns and toast. The dinners have also been rather satisfactory - burgers and icecream, enchilladas and chocolate cake.. yummmmmy!

So why, you ask, could the so called "hardest job in Canada" sound so accomodatingly delicious? Well there's a price to pay for such hospitality. Let me give you all a little breakdown about this past shift: for the past four days we've had the questionable privilege of riding a beat up tank to work. They call it a "Haglin" - and it's a set of two boxes with treads on them, connected together. We all get stuffed into the back - all eleven of us - and sit on hard wooden seats. The first ride was "lots of fun!"... and "exciting" - I mean sure it was cool and all going over 45 degree slopes, up and down and up and down - over and over again, and having dogs fall all over you and your hips squished.. but the novelty quickly wore off. It has to be one of the most uncomfortable shaky rides I've ever experienced - an analogy I've coined to describe this madness goes a little something like this: it's like riding a moving see-saw.. with uncomfortable hard wooden seats. Just another experience to check off on my adventurous-vehicles-to-try list. Now wait, that's just the start of it. The land isn't that bad - 17 cent gullies with clay ground, and lots of slash - with the occasional flat patch. The real kicker is the heat. My god is it ever hot and dry. Yesterday it was 32 degrees! Poor Matt on our crew suffered from a mild form of heat stroke. I've been drinking over 8 litres of water every day now.. it's ridiculous.. even the bugs don't like it. But I digress, the hypocrite in me was begging for this weather only a few months ago.. guess I got what I wished for..

Anyway, life goes on - making money while living in camp is an enjoyable enough summer activity for me, and there's only a month and a little more than a half to go! August is going to be so relaxing. Well I should probably go purchase a sun hat so I don't fall prey to the ray - 'till next time then.

- Pajamas (yeah it's a strange nickname they call me, but I'm getting used to it)