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27 June 2005 - 12:06 St. Agathe des Monts Rural community about 100kms north of Montr�al... summer holiday making haven for Canadians... Home to every biting bug in the northern hemisphere... Mosquitoes, flesh ripping horseflies, Black Fies - The SCOURGE OF THE NORTH!! "There are records of both domestic animals and people being killed in a few hours through venomous bites and blood loss." "At first, the bite site appears as a small, red, central spot surrounded by a slightly reddened, swollen area. Next, the area becomes increasingly itchy, swollen and irritating, sometimes for several days." Needless to say, I represent the Himalayan mountain range through a series of peaked mountainous welts... And the pi�ce de resistance? I woke up on Saturday morning in desperate need of water... lifted my woozy brain off the pillow and attempted to open my eyes. One complied... The other partially. A godforsaken black fly had bitten me in the corner of the eye, forcing it half closed... looking like I'd gone through two rounds with Lennox Lewis. Combine that with the array of mountainous peaks on my self, (I swear I had the entirety of "War and Peace" written, in brail, on my head...) and I was looking HOT!! Oh yeah! I was never wanted more. All of the above being said - it really was a stellar day and night in the hills. We set off on a three car convoy from Montr�al for the hour and a bit trip north, meeting at the Metro supermarket for supplies. Which, of course, meant beer. Much, much beer. We figured that 60 bottles of beers would suffice. We were very wrong. Another beer run would be required. Perhaps two... Anyhoo - after 15 kilometers of dirt roads and transmission trouble, we finally reached our destination: (Insert picture of chalet at base of three or four mountains with private lake together with boats and pontoon...) Absolute freakin' heaven... Needless to say, it was a matter of seconds before we were all in the water (and a further matter of miliseconds before screams of "oohyabastarditsfuckingcold" could be heard echoing through the hills...probably alerting "the tree people" - but that's another story for another day... Fear of complete emasculation (SHRINKAGE!!) drove most of the men out of the water and to the beer fridge. Nothing like a beer fridge and a barbeque to make a man, eh? Actually no - they don't MAKE them the men. They provide the tools for remasculation. At a basic level... You know, a primal, base, neanderthal level. Barbeque allows man to cook meat. Be provider. But only the meat provider. Grilled vegetables are against the law. Potatoes pass - but only barely. Beer creates the fake impression that we can hunt, run and basically do all the stupid shit that normally wouldn't even be a consideration. Like rock climbing. Extreme frisbee. Rallying (apparantly) and of course, the legendary building of "The Fire"... But still. There's nothing like a group of late 20 somethings and early 30 somethings together in the sun and away from cit� and all it's constraints to turn us all into 18 year old kids again. 18 year old kids who think we know it all, and can do it all, only to be somewhat humbled by the surroundings. And put in our place... We're not masters of the Universe... Up there, we move by natures rule. We respect the bugs, the water, the woods, the rocks and the sun. Cuz if we don't, they come out and kick our asses. Respect it, or learn respect. Cuz we can shout and bitch but it doesn't listen... it just dishes out some more. Which is exactly as it should be.
   My life is rated NC-17. What is your life rated? |
