Lads Wilderness Weekend (Part III) Hydro Bronc !

After a second nights sound sleep, where again the only real interuption far from from being iquisitive bears looking for midnight snacks was Russels flatulent arse, we fried up the last of our bacon and eggs and packed up ready for our journey home via Whistler.

Now what does a gang of six blokes do in a ski resort when the temperature is 30C and there is no snow, I hear you ask ?

Its dead obvious isn't it ??

No ???

Well you rock up to a glacial run off river, throw on a wetsuit and harness and then strap yourself into a twelve foot inflatable ball where you then perform a version of the human bowling ball in white water ! Except that there are no pegs but four other like minded idiots who have signed up to do the same thing !

Of course its obvious ! yeah right oh !

This act of sheer stupidity is known locally as the sport of Hydro Bronc ! It reminded me of the old Gladiators game on tv if you recall. The only difference being that here there was a very REAL possibility of dying in the form of drowning and unfortunately Ulrika ka ka ka was not on the river bank in a swim suit ready to perform mouth to mouth on any unfortunate contestant who had the inconsideration of swallowing five gallons of ice water !

So having signed five waivers each that confirmed our relatives would not sue the peddlers of this madness in the event of our death, Russ, Gary, Neil and I ventured forward and strapped in for our twenty minutes of fun.

To a cheer from the ammased (and bewildered) crowd lined up on the bridge above, off we went in our own personal washing machines down the icy flows of river water bouncing off each other and rocks as we went !

A more bizarre fifteen minutes I don't think I have ever spent ??? Any chance we thought we may have had controlling these contraptions was swiftly dispelled as we just did what ever the damn thing wanted to do with us.


Getting out at the far end actually feeling like I had just done a quick cylcle in my hotpoint along with some dirty shirts I was happy to reconvene with the other contestants from 'its a whistler water knockout' for a quick Corona on the patio of the Longhorn Saloon and compare notes !

My Conclusion ?

I have been to Whistler twice now in the summer and nearly died both times doing things that were clearly designed by stoned locals that should only be performed by teenagers who have the same number of brain cells as fingers !

Next time I go it will be as far as the longhorn Saloon where the scariest task I will perform will be to eat a platter of nachos on my own !

Lads Wilderness Weekend (Part II) Birkenhead Lake

Personally waking up after having had a top nights sleep (the other punters on tour having made the school boy error of not bringing an air mattress) we set about frying up some Canadian bacon. Those of you who have been to north america will know of course that bacon out here generates about a cup of fat per rasher and then shrinks to 1/10th of its original size !

Oh Joy !

Therefore you need to throw about six rashers per person into the pan to generate sufficient meat for a classic bacon butty !

By the way I won't even attempt to describe BC eggs ? Lets just say that there must be a chicken yolk training camp around here in the woods somewhere !

After loading up the F150 (5.4L) Ford Monster with our array of deck chairs and essential cooler box of beer we headed north on a blind search of something interesting.

Now obviously this is Canada and consequently it goes with out saying that there is more beauty and natural wonder than you can shake a stick at ! I cannot do justice in words to the bounty of stunning sights at every turn you stumble across out here.

One hour north of Pemberton and having consulted the girl at a tourist info shack we settled upon trying to find Birkenhead Lake. Mainly because we were advised this was one of the few non glacial lakes in the area and would not therefore kill us inside two minutes if we decided to swim in it !

So true to form after bouncing around on a 17km dirt track cut through dense forests we dramatically came out of the canopy at the end of the road to be faced with a truly idylic scene !

Birkenhead Lake has snow capped mountains on all sides, a grassy meadow at one end complete with sandy beach and rather bloody handily and conveniently a couple of glacial streams running into it that kept our beer ice cold for this super hot day !

Oh yeah did I mention it was around 28C that day !

Not wanting to tire ourselves out of course we settled into an afternoon of lounging on the beach taking occaisional dips swimming out to the floating barge and keeping cool with our supply of Heineken.

At this point Richard armed with $15 Walmart fishing rod under his arm announced that he was off to catch us dinner and promptly strided off to find a quiet perch on the banks of the lake !

Ahem ! mmmm ? Yes ! ........ one hour later Rich reappears with nothing under his arm but said $15 rod to anounce that the lake is indeed in his opinion fishless ! The lack out bountiful catch had nothing of course to do with his lack of fishing expertise and cheapo equipment that last looked like it had been used to hook ducks at the fair !

So much fresh air could only lead to a grumbling stomach so before the bears came out to snack on the pasty white english boys on display we mounted up into the gas gusslers and headed back down to our base camp at Nairn Falls.

Once there the fire pit was cranked up again and a hit of steak butties was fried up by chef (Rich) who is showing remarkable domesticity under tutiledge from the wife !

One seriously top day indeed - my only troubling thought being that a place of such beauty could be found by a plastic scouser and named in honour of one of the most truly ugly places on the planet !

Lads Wilderness Weekend (Part I) Nairn Falls Campsite

Binning the office at 5:00:01pm on the nose Gary and I wandered down to meet Russ where to lead the advance party north to our destination of Nairn Falls, some three hours north and just short of Pemberton in the coast mountains.

Stopping to stock up at Squamish any chance that the English bloke equals boozer stereo type that most Canadians hold to be true was completely blown out of the water when one of the senior architects in the office stumbled across the three of us in BC Liquor with four slabs of beer and a bottle of Crown Royal (bourbon) in our mitts !

I didn't have the interest to try and explain that there was actually going to be six of us in total ! This puritan Canadian Architect would probably still consider us out of control even if we had just a six pack !

Arriving just before dark Rich, 'extreme' Paul and Neil rocked up in what had to be the biggest mobile wind break I have ever seen ! After the usual thirty minutes of puzzled looks with tents in hand we got down to the business of ignoring all safety rules in relation to keeping bears at safe distance !

Tucking into a feast of 65% fat + 10% meat burgers we no doubt generated a smell that yogi and his hungry mates could probably sniff ten miles away down the valley ! Luckily the second rule of bear abatement must have saved us. That being of course to make sufficient noise such that not so gentle ben is aware of your presence and gives you wide berth ! Well that is the published logic anyway.

My theory is that the Pemberton variety of bear actually isn't a fan of hard house on the ipod nor Heineken and thats probably why they gave is a bit of room !

That or the smells that Russel was generating in the tent that night kept all kept all living creatures at a range of two miles !

Apart from the obligatory die hard dirty Mozzie !

Belated Roundhouse completion drinks !

Having managed to miss all the fun and festivities in London when the Roundhouse finished and the Tolent crew celebrated in their own debaucherous style it was grand to hook up with my old boss Stan and his wife Val who were part way through a holiday of a lifetime including the 'Rocky Mountaineer' train and an Alaskan cruise.



I managed to get all the inside line on who is up to what no good ! It is settling to know things are not changing at home too much and the usual suspects are up to their usual tricks !

Enjoying being able to speak norvern without some local looking at me strangely clearly not having understood a word I had just said we took in the sights of Capilano suspension bridge and Grouse Mountain whilst sneaking in a couple of pints !

I hope you enjoyed the day guys and the one day experience of my new life out here ! Looking forward to a pint with the old gang next I am in Aldgate !

'Chill Winston' at the Irish Heather !

I just thought I should place a public warning out there for all future visitors to this grand city who intend visiting any time in the near future !

There is a very dodgy Friday night pub combo that if not treated with the appropriate level of respect can end up with some ropey after effects !

Starting with specimen 1) This neanderthal from the simpleton region of Yarksher had instigated the evenings dice with death by suggesting we meet at the new Gastown watering hole of 'Chill Winston'. Named we assume after the catchphrase christened by the weed growing student dead beats from the movie 'Lock, stock and two smoking barrels', this patio bar at the end of Water street made for a fine outdoor venue to watch the world go by and generally abuse each other in traditional British fashion.

So where is the danger I hear you all ask ? Well, moving onto specimen 2) who is generally responsible for specimen 1), it was suggested that munchies be taken in the form of pot pie and guinness from the local celtic watering hole of the 'Irish Heather'.

Now it would appear that the pot pie would be more appropriately named potty pie as it ensures a visit to the potty within a matter of hours !
As such we move onto specimen 1) and now 3) whose attempts to ward of the gremlins in the potty pie with anethnatising hard liquor unfortunately failed I am sad to inform.

So the warning is this - on your next visit to Gastown do not mix a chilled Winston with an Irish Heather unless you fancy visiting a porcelin horse in the middle of the night !

BC Day long weekend on Lake Okanagan !

You gotta love these Canadians ! They have more long weekends than did your average british car factory worker during the winter of discontent! Not sure what this one was for ........... but who cares ! British Columbia day I think ? Knowing that I had a Monday off and when offered a place on an expact excursion to the shores of Lake Okanagan for the weekend, Stig's dodgy time keeping skills kicked in to good effect again.

Not fancying a five hour drive after a weeks work, my logic concluded that it was perfectly acceptable to arrange for site visits to be undertaken on the nearest project on both the day before and day after said excursion. I mean, why cram into a car full of sweaty punters when Air Canada can do the honours in under an hour !

So having completed my site inspection of Westbank (again, honest at five pm) I dropped off the hire car for a quick snifter with the office crowds of Kelowna in Doc Willoughby's Bar patio before being being picked up by one of the Vancouver car trippers en route to our destination.

Landing at the Lake Okanagan Resort some twenty minutes later my first impression was that the grounds immediately reminded me of those in the movie Dirty Dancing. A huge lodge was surrounded by open fields and golf courses leading down to a beach on the shores of the lake. Golf carts full of old crusties heading to their afternoon dance lesson (where to be fleeced by some modern Canadian version of Patrick Swayze eh) passed glam 'Cougars' (middle aged divorced and monied women) heading for their tennis lesson - that for some reason seemed to be being held by the resident pro in chalet bedrooms as opposed to on the tennis courts !

We saw kids being herded into groups deviod of parents onto water obstacles floating in the lake where they generally menaced the average sun seeker and each morning the telephone answering machine announced the itinerary of events for the day and where to meet for each. All very cheesy but particularly spectacular and beautiful in its setting.

Having emptied cars one and two of people and sufficient beer supplies to keep a touring rugby team happy, we sat out on the sun deck of our temporary home awaiting car three's arrival.

Car three I was about to learn was actually and officially classed as the supply bus ! Watching even more beer being unloaded from the back of an enormous 4x4 I could only think we were hosting the away team too ! But then I realised the logistics officer was Glaswegian Debs and it all suddenly made sense ?

Morning one was spent by Simon B, Rich and myself attempting to kill ourselves on waterskis with some mad Lancashire lad from Oldham at the wheel of an absolute weapon of a power boat. My perfect moment of the weekend came as having got up first time on my first pull and whilst cruising down the lake at high velocity, Oldham Mike cranked up the red hot chilli peppers on these enormous speakers facing directly backwards on the boat at me ! Aw Man ! Too cool for school !

Obviously this distracted me a little and was swiftly followed by a face plant that Barry Sheen would have been proud of ! Still too cool for school ! This was definately the best blast of the summer so far and when all thirteen of us piled onto a pair of boats in the afternoon for a couple of hours, I took all opportunity to grab some more crash time !

Recounting our stories over a lard hit of burgers and bangers cremated on the BBQ that evening, I was impressed to see that the Glaswegians on tour seemed intent on attacking our beer stocks in military fashion !

Day two commenced with a bare foot round of nine holes where Celts played Antipodieans played the Gentlemen English. Of course you will be glad to hear the Gentlemen English romped home. Probably only because the scottish pro on team one could hardly stand never mind swing a club.

Dinner on the evening of day two was taken at the 'Quaills Gate' Vineyard on the south west shores of the lake that included tasting select wines suggested with each course by the chef and sommelier. All very nice too. Not that you will ever see it in the UK - I can recommend the Pinot Noir. Very Nice.

Of course having had a very refined meal with some excellent wine we returned to the chalet where it was noted that all beer stocks had to be consumed that evening as none could be returned the following day to Vancouver. Well it seemed a perfectly reasonable suggestion at the time ! As such the third evening got very messy and I one for one fell asleep on a lounger outside attempting to obtain some fresh air ! (thats my story and I'm sticking to it)

Watching the massed ranks depart in various cars on Monday I headed back into Kelowna for some much needed rest and wandered down to waterfront park where I happily spent a couple of hours dozing in the shade of a very large tree. My final act of the weekend being to have a final cooler in Rose's bar right on the marina shores. Bizarly a bar that appeared to have potential as being one of the roughest on the planet with a very rowdy appearance had a very well behaved clientelle even if they did look like a red neck convention on two wheels !

My answer came on Tuesday came when the hire car lady confirmed that the bar is owned by the Hells Angels ! as is most of Kelowna apparently.

A forest fire down at the extreme length of the valley (on the US side of the border) cleared sufficiently by Monday evening that the setting sun was pretty special.

Sorry Mig - I know you are sailing school...... but if I win the $45M jackpot tonight its definately a power boat for me !!!