It's cold today. This is the day that winter came up and bit me. when I left for work yesterday I didn't think the mighty Toyota was going to fire up, It groaned when I turned the key in the ignition. The engine caught and it came to life, It hasn't let me down in ten years. oh heck I'll be sentimental "she" hasn't let me down in ten years.
The cold today made me think of some winter camping trips I've been on. If you like quiet, than winter camping is for you. Two Friends and I went out to the Pinery Provincal park. Anyone who was ever a teenager and lives within a 200km radius of me has been to the Pinery, has camped at the Pinery, has drank to much at the Pinery, has barfed at the Pinery.
Sorry back to winter camping, the two friends and I arrived at the campsite. My one friend brought 12 ounces of old scotch whiskey, the other "friend" brought 26 ounces of I don't know what. It had a picture of a sheep on the bottle. I brought a bottle of french red wine. I remember that it was a Bordeaux, Chateaux Puyfromage.
The three of us are foodies, I brought fish, Orange Roughy, I think, with minced peppers and onion, Kirk, the sheep bottle boy, brought this amazing orzo with fennel and sausage, Steve brought the good scotch, but I can't remember his choice of food.
While we were setting up camp Kirk opened the sheep bottle. I took out my coffee mug, Steve took out a coffee mug, and Kirk, had forgotten his coffee mug, he took out his cereal bowl. Kirk gave us all a too generous pour. As we set up the camp we emptied our cups/bowl.
Kirk is a pretty fit guy, he's a runner. he wanted to go for a hike, I wanted to eat. He won. It's a beautiful park in the winter the snow was not too deep, we didn't need our snow shoes but my companions put theirs on, they had rented them and they weren't going to waste their money. We hiked for hours. I remember seeing many beautiful birch trees. I'd say "My god look at those birch trees, such stark beauty." Steve would say, "I know, what a sight." Kirk would say, "What the hell is it with you and birch trees, shut up!"
We returned to the campsite and began to prepare supper, If you ever find yourself camping with me and you wish to start the fire, forget it. That's my job, I warn you don't even challenge me on this. I'm good at starting fires, you can gather wood, set up the tent, play the harmonica, I don't care, just leave the fire to me. I've lit hundreds of camp fires, I've done it in the rain, no one has ever been killed and no forests have been
set ablaze.
The food was fabulous, I pulled the cork on the wine and we prepared the supper, it was was fantastic. Later that night we opened the good scotch and stood next to the fire as the temperature dropped, we stood, we sipped, we solved the problems of the world, three friends, Steve's scotch, my fire, and Kirk leading the conversation.
I slept in a tent alone, I snore, no one would join me. In one tent Steve and Kirk, with their two dogs, in the other Peter alone. I shivered the whole night, I drifted in and out of a tenuous sleep.
In the morning I awoke. I needed coffee. All of the drinking water was frozen. The only thing liquid was the sheep bottle booze. I managed to start the camp stove. I turned the drinking ice into drinking water, boiling drinking water. I found my french press, (I never drink instant coffee) I dumped in some ground coffee, I could smell it in the cold air. I needed this coffee, it was at the center of my focus. I needed this coffee like a boy needs his mothers love.
When the water was ready, I picked up the pot and poured the boiling water into the cold french press. I heard a crack and the glass vessel shattered, the bottom fell out.
I didn't need a lesson in physics, I needed a coffee.
My next winter camping trip I hope will be in a nice hotel, I'll miss the birch trees and the warm fire, I won't miss the the sheep in a bottle, nor the cold.
The cold today made me think of some winter camping trips I've been on. If you like quiet, than winter camping is for you. Two Friends and I went out to the Pinery Provincal park. Anyone who was ever a teenager and lives within a 200km radius of me has been to the Pinery, has camped at the Pinery, has drank to much at the Pinery, has barfed at the Pinery.
Sorry back to winter camping, the two friends and I arrived at the campsite. My one friend brought 12 ounces of old scotch whiskey, the other "friend" brought 26 ounces of I don't know what. It had a picture of a sheep on the bottle. I brought a bottle of french red wine. I remember that it was a Bordeaux, Chateaux Puyfromage.
The three of us are foodies, I brought fish, Orange Roughy, I think, with minced peppers and onion, Kirk, the sheep bottle boy, brought this amazing orzo with fennel and sausage, Steve brought the good scotch, but I can't remember his choice of food.
While we were setting up camp Kirk opened the sheep bottle. I took out my coffee mug, Steve took out a coffee mug, and Kirk, had forgotten his coffee mug, he took out his cereal bowl. Kirk gave us all a too generous pour. As we set up the camp we emptied our cups/bowl.
Kirk is a pretty fit guy, he's a runner. he wanted to go for a hike, I wanted to eat. He won. It's a beautiful park in the winter the snow was not too deep, we didn't need our snow shoes but my companions put theirs on, they had rented them and they weren't going to waste their money. We hiked for hours. I remember seeing many beautiful birch trees. I'd say "My god look at those birch trees, such stark beauty." Steve would say, "I know, what a sight." Kirk would say, "What the hell is it with you and birch trees, shut up!"
We returned to the campsite and began to prepare supper, If you ever find yourself camping with me and you wish to start the fire, forget it. That's my job, I warn you don't even challenge me on this. I'm good at starting fires, you can gather wood, set up the tent, play the harmonica, I don't care, just leave the fire to me. I've lit hundreds of camp fires, I've done it in the rain, no one has ever been killed and no forests have been
set ablaze.
The food was fabulous, I pulled the cork on the wine and we prepared the supper, it was was fantastic. Later that night we opened the good scotch and stood next to the fire as the temperature dropped, we stood, we sipped, we solved the problems of the world, three friends, Steve's scotch, my fire, and Kirk leading the conversation.
I slept in a tent alone, I snore, no one would join me. In one tent Steve and Kirk, with their two dogs, in the other Peter alone. I shivered the whole night, I drifted in and out of a tenuous sleep.
In the morning I awoke. I needed coffee. All of the drinking water was frozen. The only thing liquid was the sheep bottle booze. I managed to start the camp stove. I turned the drinking ice into drinking water, boiling drinking water. I found my french press, (I never drink instant coffee) I dumped in some ground coffee, I could smell it in the cold air. I needed this coffee, it was at the center of my focus. I needed this coffee like a boy needs his mothers love.
When the water was ready, I picked up the pot and poured the boiling water into the cold french press. I heard a crack and the glass vessel shattered, the bottom fell out.
I didn't need a lesson in physics, I needed a coffee.
My next winter camping trip I hope will be in a nice hotel, I'll miss the birch trees and the warm fire, I won't miss the the sheep in a bottle, nor the cold.
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