The Adventurous Geek: On to the rest of the trip!

As promised, running commentary on the rest of....

(crowd hushes and the stage lights dim)

....The Trip That Almost Wasn't.

(cue dry ice, fake ghost whispering)

Indeed, semi-captive audience, let us revisit the first day of woe, complete with semi-captivating visuals.....

Witness, the haunting path leading up to the chalet itself, the site of Ian's-Car-Getting-Stuck-Event-#1:

(frantic gesturing from stage left)

Oh, er, yes. I almost forgot - you can click on the pictures to enlarge 'em. You know, for atmosphere:

The path leading into the chalet itself is right next to the light at the end of the road, like so:

In the daytime, it looks far less ominous. Here's a shot of it in the daytime. It's rather pretty, eh?

(more frantic gesturing from stage right) What? It's a daytime shot, I'm not breaking the mood! Oh fine.

Ahem. Back to Day 1, a shot of the chalet from the back. To our horror, the lights were already on, as if someone were expecting our presence.....

(The owner, that is)

But lo! As we entered the building, with bated breath and silent steps, wonders of wonders! A cry of "Oh, you're shitting me!" rose up like a gentle wave from the Jersey shore, comforting in both its warmth and salty filth.

Huzzah! A game room! With a bar!

Clues were left from previous inhabitants. Would they lead us to our death, or to buried treasure?

Yarr, me hearties! Buried treasure it is!!

The downstairs bedroom ,which Tom and I immediately claimed. In the jungle, there's no room for nice guys.

Of course, with the introduction of new species to any foreign habitat, one must ensure that waste disposal processes are in their proper place:

What sort of devices will we find inside? Will our young adventurers face certain death by waste-ridden disease?

Huzzah! A muthafuckin' jacuzzi, bitches! Unfortunately, the bathroom was immediately claimed by Ian, thereby rendering it unsuitable for human use. (On the other hand, any species lacking basic breathing apparati, namely, lungs, were more than welcome.)

The main bedroom upstairs, complete with hanging snow shoes. You know you've made it when you have hanging snowshoes. No wait, I'm wrong:

You know you've made it when you have an animatronic dancing fish on your shelf! Where, you ask? Why, inside the bitchin' living room, of course:

It became obvious to this young anthropologist, that previous generations were both altruistic and forward thinking. Certain artifacts that survived the ravages of time supported my hypothesis:

Rest in peace, my decomposed friends, and know that we shall put your tools to good use. Indeed, onward to the feasting area!

And nothing speaks of quality like a fully-loaded kitchen. Chicks dig guys that can cook:

Bam! So ends Day 1! As sunlight broke over the snowy Canadian wilderness, our travelers awoke to a new day, full of opportunity and hope:

Day 2

Actually, my day started with Kayer (who had driven the entire night to get here) bursting into our room like a fist through paper. My reaction to this intrusion was to let out a string of curses...

(frantic gesturing, this time from the orchestra pit) What? Allright! I'll tone it down for the kids.

....something to the effect of,"Arrrgh! I'm naked and I'm eating dead puppies! Don't come in!"

(a disembodied sigh floats across the stage)

Group decision to spend the day in Montreal instead of snowboarding. Mont Tremblant was still closed, Group 3 was dead tired from driving through the night, and the rest of us were beat up from the day before. We congregated in the living room for further discussion:

That's Dan in the yellow jacket, Lira in the far chair, and Tom posing on the couch. Now here's a picture of Connie and Ian, right before she plants a foot in his ass:

Them females sure 'ave good timin', ayuh.

After figuring out transportation, we made our way outside. The lake next to the chalet was frozen and covered in snow, which made for a nice landscape picture. Unfortunately, we never got a chance to icefish.

Ian trudges down the stairs in full tourist gear:

Ah, before I forget, most of these pictures are from Connie's camera. She only takes pictures of objects that embody physical perfection, like so:

See? Perfection. A shot of Dan:

And here's Kayer kidding around:

The girl on the left is Michelle, Connie's maid of honor:

Girlz be lookin' fly, homes:

Hey Wilson, you're supposed to take pictures of people from the front, you ass man:

So the plan was to drive into Montreal, stopping along the way to pick up information about the other mountains in the area. I have always found the art of cartography to be a most fascinating subject:

But as always, my sentiments were not shared by Tom. If there were ever a look that symbolized the phrase "You're an idiot"......

.....this was it. After meandering around the streets for awhile, we decided upon a most auspicious looking restaurant to break our afternoon fast.

If it's good enough for Mr. Churchill, it's good enough for me. By the way, in case I hadn't mentioned it before, it's, like, cold in Canada. So smiles were abound when we made our way inside:

Group smile! (Me want food!)

This is a picture of my meal. Roast quail with stuffed blueberries or something. The potatoes were cut in the shape of mushrooms, which made for a pleasing yet gastronomically confusing experience.

Obligatory Guys-Stuffing-Face shot:

Here's what made my day. In Canada, there exists a mythical contraption, whispered only in dank halls of academia, that is rumored to possess incredible powers of exhalation. I am here today to announce a monumental discovery!

(scattered applause)

Bear witness, friends and family, for we have found this mythical beast! Behold!

(curtain goes up)

The Xlerator! The most powerful hand drying machine in existence!

Seriously though, this thing was friggin' intense. It would literally blow your hands straight down, and you could hear it from across the entire breadth of restaurant. Just an amazing piece of machinery.

Warm and happy, we pose in front of the pub. Keep on truckin', Mr. Churchill, wherever you are:

Connie made plans with one of her old friends in the Chinatown district, which, incidently, was only few blocks wide. We parked in front of the municipal building:

A very filling dinner at a Chinese restaurant - I'll be damned if I can remember the name.

Okay, let me set something straight here. I don't have much in the way of Canadien jokes, but it's too easy to make a judgement from the preponderance of Canadien-themed parody skits out there. So I try, and I try to keep an open mind, but seriously, Canada, you really make it too easy sometimes:

I just don't know, folks. I just don't know.

It ain't Chinatown without the fake arches:

And so ended Day 2 of the Trip That Almost Wasn't. Whew! Not a great deal of narrative, and somewhat uneventful, especially when compared to Day 1.

DAY 3

Finally, the slopes awaited us! We decided to hit the next largest mountain in the area, Mont...

Mont....

(Pssst, cue card)

....ah yes. Mont Saint Saveur. To our everlasting surprise, the conditions were nearly perfect. Good snow, barely any crowds, and some of the trails were fairly challenging. Also, to my surprise, my snowboarding skills hadn't deteriorated, and in fact, seemed to have improved despite the lack of practice.

I also discovered a new pet peeve. In fact, if you're looking for a surefire way to set my teeth on edge, all you'd have to do would be to study Exhibit A:

I'm perfectly willing to admit my ignorance on proper European mathematic notation, but even so, it's a decimal POINT, God damn it, not a friggin' COMMA. Now get off my lawn, damn kids! I swear, if you come back here again, I'm going to.......